Brett Favre is totally insane.
Right?
Archive for the 'Eff This' Category
As most of you know, I’m fairly new to the world of sports intricacies. Until this week I didn’t know a single solitary thing about football contracts. I still know almost nothing, and this post will surely reflect both my level of knowledge and my research on the subject (zilch).
This Jason Peters stuff is puzzling.
Um….please go to work.
There are two things that are blowing my mind about Jason Peters “holding out”:
1. How can a person under contract demand a new contract? Isn’t that….the point of a contract? Two parties agree on something and then they write it down on paper, sign it, and then both parties are CONTRACTUALLY OBLIGATED to fulfill the terms of the contract. It’s a good system. I myself work with a contract, and while I don’t love every little aspect of my contract (seriously BPO, I should be able to wear open-toed shoes for concerts), it also benefits me in a variety of ways, the most important being that I can’t just be fired for no good reason.
Which brings me to the second reason my mind is blown…
2. Apparently, football players can just be fired for no good reason. Now, I assume a really good football player wouldn’t be fired for no good reason, but still, NFL contracts are not guaranteed. This is confusing to me. Isn’t the point of a contract that all parties are CONTRACTUALLY OBLIGATED to fulfill the terms of the contract? Don’t these football players have a union? Let me tell you, this crapski would NOT fly with the American Federation of Musician. No siree.
Apparently, in the NFL this is how things are done. Players and management are constantly renegotiating in the middle of contracts. This system seems quite silly, but what do I know? I’m but a simple violist. So, I really don’t know what to think about the Jason Peters thing.
All I know for sure is that someone needs to sit the NFL down and (slowly) explain (in simple terms) how contracts are supposed to work. I don’t think they get it.
The fantabulous Patty (in Dallas) wrote a great post the other day about how the offseason makes her feel all wobbly and unanchored. It got me thinking….
I have a bunch of legitimately stressful things going on right now, namely, I’m moving (but not into my dream lair, into a friend’s house because my landlord is LAME and wouldn’t give me month-to-month), and my job is busy and stressful. So, I’m about to be homeless, and I have no time to pack. Now, this will pass. I will somehow get out of this apartment and my stuff will go somewhere and I won’t be living on the street. Things have a way of working themselves out, especially when you’re willing to throw money at the problem until it goes away (which, I am).
I realized last night that I am uncomfortably stressed out. I’m having a hard time dealing. For the last year or so I’ve enjoyed a good little stretch where I really haven’t been stressed at all, ever. If something annoying was occurring I could pretty much count on keeping a level head, and going all Tim Gunn on myself (”make it wooork”) and coasting through the situation. I have attributed this inner calm to hockey. My theory is that I have been burning through all my unnecessary angst on hockey, leaving my real life relatively unblemished by needless worry.
Take this move for example. Suppose, just for the sake of my argument, Ryan Miller were still unsigned. If Crunchy were holding out, I bet my apartment would be all packed and ready to go right now. With an external (and totally stupid) issue to fret about, I probably would have calmly and deliberately packed this whole place up, with nary a frenzied thought about whether or not I was going to be able to get it all done. I’d just do it. My angst about Crunchy would not only distract me from my real stress, it would propel me through the task. I’d turn on WGR, listen to people freak out, nod in approval or scowl in disgust at the calls, and get this whole damn apartment packed.
I love hockey for providing an outlet for my stress that doesn’t really stress me out. Oh sure, I like to wail and carry on during the hockey season, but come on, that’s just good clean fun. I suppose some might say that worrying about hockey when there are real problems to worry about is dumb, but here’s the thing: for the most part, I think all worrying is dumb. Thinking about a problem, mulling it over and finding a solution is great. Sitting around stressing? Totally dumb. I figure I have a certain amount of “dumb stress” that must be expressed and I’m better off spending it on the Sabres than spending it on real problems. It’s way easier to handle real problems without stress, right?
All I know is that this stress that I am feeling right now? The stress that is causing me to sit down and write a post about stress when I SHOULD BE PACKING?…IS TOTALLY LAME AND UNHELPFUL.
To review:
1. Moving is annoying, especially when you are moving into a temporary situation.
2. Hockey is good for distracting.
3. I can’t believe I just spent 40 minutes writing this post when I could have been packing.
4. After this move I’m going to try to revert back to Buddha-on-the-Mountaintop Katebits. Panicked Katebits is a tool.
What in the HELL is going on in here?! Sam is talking about hockey free agency? In snarky tones? For real?
That does it. I’m taking back the reins.
We’ve got two big problems as I see them, and neither one has to do with a lack of “Bruno”.
1. Goose has still not signed his 15 year contract.
2. I’m stuck in the woods and my computer is dead.
Honk.
You guys, the Conference Finals are effing boring. Am I right, or am I right?
I hate to say it, but hockey isn’t doing it for me right now. This shit is no good without the Sabres! I can’t get a good fix. The highs don’t last very long, and the lows leave me feeling irritated but without any of that satisfying “woe is me” emotional drama. Without the emotional drama, these loathsome non-Sabres teams are no good to me! They’re just genuinely annoying. Bah. Phooey. Flibberty-floo.
I’m looking forward to missing hockey when it’s gone. Missing it while it’s still here is upsetting.
Oh, and Blobby called. He says he’s changed. He finally got his accounting degree from University of Phoenix Online and he says he quit smoking. He paid his mother back all the money he stole, and he is trying to make things right with his blobfish children. He wants to “talk”.
I am already sick of hearing about Sean Avery and his retarded antics from last night. It was an embarrassment, and it’s a shame that the NHL is going to have to write rules to protect the integrity of the game from such jackassery. I mean, what’s next? Is it illegal to drop trou and moon the opposing goalie? How about spitting on him? Is there specific language against that? How about giving the international sign for “I’m choking! I can’t breath!” and then hopping back up and scoring a goal when the goalie tries to give you the Heimlich? Are roofies specifically outlawed?- because I’ve heard that Marty Brodeur is not very careful about where he leaves his water bottle (full of Sprite).
It is now my fondest hockey desire that the Devils figure out a way to use righteous indignation to propel themselves past the Rangers. How great would it be if Avery’s hand waving shenanigans not only incited passion from the Devils, but also emotionally deflated his own team? Chris Drury’s previously sterling reputation has already been sullied by association. The NHL network was kind enough to provide a close-up, lip-readable shot of Drury “intervening” during the play, and it turns out he wasn’t saying “Stop it, you fuckhead, I’m ashamed to be wearing the same sweater as you,” rather, he said “stick down”. Hopefully, the incident led to all manner of tension and fisticuffs in the Rangers locker room, as any player with an ounce of integrity should be (at the very least) embarrassed to share the bench with Avery.
******
On the flip side, the Flames game was incredible. So effing fun. I can’t believe how much I’ve enjoyed watching playoff games between teams I know nothing about. I love love love that there is a whole Western Conference to explore, and that their games are on late night. Hockey is rad, yo.
Thumbs Uo: Um, you guys. The Stanley Cup Playoffs ROCK. Last year, when I started watching hockey during the playoffs, I took a lot of the uniquely “playoffish” aspects of the situation for granted. Then, once the season started, I forgot about all those things. These are my first playoffs as a real fan and I have to say, I am PRO playoffs. Very pro.
Thumbs Down: My work schedule has been all wacky this week and I’ve been working evenings. I haven’t been able to watch any EC games. BOO! Right now, I’m so into this that if I could just clear my schedule and do nothing but watch playoff hockey, I would. Sadly, I need to work so that I can pay for Center Ice, and keep my cupboards stocked with Pirate’s Booty.
Thumbs Uo: My mother. On Wednesday, I settled down in front of the Wild game, determined to get to know and to fall in love with my Minnesota team. Just as I was getting the remote, the computer, and the Booty all conveniently arranged, the phone rang. It was my mother, Lois, calling to make sure I was watching the Wild, and to tell me that she was watching too. This is a DELIGHTFUL development, guys. As far as I know my mother had never watched a single hockey game before. The image of her knitting along with the Wild game is infinitely amusing and adorable. Anyway, that game turned out to KICK ASS, so Lois and I spent the evening calling each other at each exciting twist and turn. I was very impressed with her ability to get swept up in a game that she knew nothing about. That Lois,….she’s a keeper.
Thumbs Uo: The Minnesota Wild. Yeah, they lost that game. Yeah, all of their defensemen are injured. (As a Sabres fan, injured defensemen are pretty much par for the course, so this is familiar territory.) The thing is, I’m a Minnesotan. For real. It’s in my blood, it’s in my heart, and it’s in my speech patterns. I just LOVED watching the Xcel Center erupt during the third period of game one. I have often considered how odd it is that I didn’t discover hockey until after I moved away from Minnesota, but I really appreciate how hockey is creating a new connection back to my roots. So, I am cheering FULL BLAST for the Wild now.
Thumbs Down: The Caps/Flyers series. I’m just not into this one.
Thumbs Uo: Listen, I don’t want Brian Campbell to fall apart, but I DO want to stop reading all about how he’s the second coming of Jesus in the Sharks media/blogs. Honestly, we Buffalo fans aren’t totally stupid. There’s a reason we bid Soupy a fond adieu with uncharacteristic grace. That reason was perfectly encapsulated by Soupy’s redonkulously bad play against Iginla the other night. Soupy is awesome until he his so bad you want to claw your eyes out. Anyone who wants to sign him to their team but fails to understand his “awesome until hideous” MO is setting themselves up for disaster.
Thumb down: Sabres press conferences. I didn’t see the press conference because I was working, and I didn’t hear the gang on Schopp and the Bulldog because I was napping, but what I have gathered from the interwebs is that the press conference went something like this:
Larry Quinn: The sky is blue.
Darcy Regier: Grass is green.
Larry: Money is also green.
Lindy Ruff: Some of our players didn’t play well this year. Also, water is wet.
Darcy Regier: Wet water has been identified as a major goal of the organization moving forward.
Larry Quinn: It’s true. Wet water is a key part of the core.
(some dude passes out)
Bucky Gleason: WET WATER WOULD HAVE BEEN AVAILABLE FOR 5 FOR 25 FOUR MONTHS AGO!
Larry Quinn: Mistakes were made.
Darcy Regier: Puppies are wicked cute.
(End Scene)
Are hockey teams legally obligated to call a press conference and state the obvious periodically?
Thumbs Uo: Spring, glorious spring! Yesterday I was sitting on Elmwood Ave, watching the world walk by and yammering on my phone, when the slow flow of traffic stopped a car containing one Mike Ryan (Buffalo Sabre) right in front of me. While continuing to talk on the phone, I waved and he politely waved back, and then he drove away. It was so totally random and amusing. This really has nothing to do with Mike Ryan, but I love how Elmwood Ave bustles during the spring.
Thumbs Down: No Sabres in the play-offs. I’m still not over it.
Thumbs Uo: No Sabres in the playoffs. It’s so much less stressfull this way.
So, last week I had to kick Blobby out, because all he was doing was sitting on the couch, smoking cigarettes and drinking malt liquor. I only started hanging out with him because the Sabres were being so lame, and when the Sabres got a little spunky again, I realized I didn’t need someone as toxic as Blobby in my life. I kicked him to the curb.
Well, Blobby must’ve heard about the game last night, because look who showed up this morning all, “Don’t waste your time on the Sabres. Take me back. Lose the zero and get with a hero.”
At least he brought flowers.
Now, this has been a pretty rough season to become a Sabres fan, but even missing the playoffs is not enough to drive me back into the arms of a Sabre-less existence. I’m new, not stupid. Hit the road, Blobby.
First of all, the Sabres haven’t played in, like, three weeks. Get off your lazy butts, boys!
I HATE scoreboard watching. I swear to Lindy Ruff that no team has EVER lost when we need them to. EVER! In fact, I’m fairly certain the no team besides the Sabres have lost a game all season.
As I write this post, the Flyers are ahead 2-1, and the Capitals are beating Nashville 3-0. Ew! Ew ew ew ew EW! Barring some sort of surge from the Predators, we are going to be in ninth place by the end of the night.
This is worse than the time when I was six, and I wet my pants because I was wearing roller skates and I couldn’t get up the hardwood staircase to the only bathroom in my friend’s house. This is worse than the time left my sunroof open and it rained all night. This is worse than the time I accidentally ate a big spoonful of spoiled yogurt.
This is the worst night EVER.
(I’m going for maximum drama in the hopes of impressing the Hockey Gods with my pitifulness. If these games don’t turn around, I might have start comparing this night to famous genocides and plagues. ex: This night is WORSE than the Bubonic Plague.)
*UPDATE* This is worse than the time I wrote on my blog that we were going to be knocked down to ninth after a catastrophic night of scoreboard watching when we were already in ninth! HOLY SHIT WE’RE GOING TO BE IN TENTH! WE’RE GOING TO BE IN TENTH! *running around in panicked circles*
*2nd UPDATE* We now appear to be in tenth place and the earth has not yet swallowed me up into a pit of eternal despair. Perhaps I was overreacting just a smidge. (But still, the official TWC stance on tenth place is: 100% OPPOSED.)
