*Staring Into The Blue & White Abyss: Part 1

The relationship between the Toronto Maple Leafs and their obsessively rabid fan base is a little bit like being married to an abusive alcoholic; one has chronically self-destructive personality traits, and the other is hopelessly dependant on their spouse, no matter how many times they get smacked around, publicly humiliated, or occasionally pushed down a flight of stairs. The dysfunctionality is so embarrassingly obvious to the rest of the world and those who watch closely shake their heads and say "how pathetic"...but they just don't understand. This is what true love is about.

The state of affairs have grown increasingly out of hand in Leaf Land ever since the lock-out, and with each passing season one may think they certainly must have bottomed out. Astoundingly, the Leafs continue to strive for new lows in their perpetual quest to master the art of sporting futility, and over the last few weeks massive strides have been taken in the search for rock bottom. Unfortunately Toronto doesn't seem have a rock bottom to find. Welcome to the abyss.

Where to begin... An overpaid, overrated new captain, a goalie-of-the-future who can't maintain any semblance of confidence or consistency, one of the most expensive blue lines in hockey allowing a pitiful goals-against average, woeful special teams units that are among the worst in the league, a slew of high-priced long-term contracts shackling management, a laughable selection of centres and bonafide scorers, and the least-likable coach in hockey who evidently doesn't communicate with his snake-bitten star sniper. A star sniper who helped his team get a public smack in the face by rightfully being selected last in the all-star fantasy draft. Let me catch my breath.

To understand this monolithic cluster funk one must first examine the route this team has travelled to arrive to where they are today. This will shine a light on the problems of today and the potential solutions of tomorrow.

Part 1: The Past

The last time the Toronto Maple Leafs were associated with respectability was the last season before the lock-out. A collection of seasoned veterans put together a 100+ point season before being promptly bumped off by a Jeremy Roenick wrister in the second round of the playoffs. When the lock-out ushered in the salary cap era, the way the Buds do business was drastically affected. No longer would they be able to throw money at high-end star veterans in their attempts to contend. This was the beginning of the John Ferguson Jr. experiment.

JFJ was a rookie general manager in the most pressure-laden market in the sport. His hiring was mistake number one. He promptly threw big-money, long-term, no-movement contracts at players he deemed to be the back bone of the future. Players like Bryan McCabe, Darcy Tucker, Jason Blake, Pavel Kubina and even *ahem* Jason Allison. He traded away a blue-chip goalie prospect in Tukka Rask for a walking, talking, fail named Andrew Raycroft. When Raycroft flopped he brought in an even bigger fail named Vesa Toskala, and signed him for big dollars. This pattern of handcuffing himself to poorly performing players, and neglecting the most important position on the ice, the goaltender, began a downward spiral of epic proportions.

Perhaps the biggest bumble of all was allowing Toronto's all-time leader in points, Mats Sundin, to walk away in free agency for nothing, receiving no return via trade for their greatest asset.

To his credit, JFJ was a scout by trade, and drafted some solid players during his tenure, like current Leaf bright spots Nikolai Kulemin, Luke Schenn, Carl Gunnarsson, and James Reimer. His failures were not in finding new, young players, but in handling the one's he currently had and properly assessing what his squad needed.

Under Ferguson's regime the Leafs went from being one of the top teams in the east to missing the playoffs a franchise record four straight seasons. Upper management finally got the hint and fired Fergie before the season was out, bringing in former Leaf GM and current somebody's-great-grandfather Cliff Fletcher, but the damage was already done. The franchise had been tied in an unimaginable knot that is to this day still being untied.

As the team transitioned into the interim Cliff Fletcher phase, there were several questionable moves made. The mandate was to set the table for the new GM, and although seemingly addressing the problems at hand, Fletcher lacked the foresight needed to truly allow the new manager to make the team his own. For example, trading a top asset in Alex Steen was, in retrospect, a failure as the return of Lee Stempniak paid little dividends. The hiring of Ron Wilson as the new head coach was also ill-foreseen. The move was viewed as a strategic form of enticement for the team to land their coveted GM-to-be Brian Burke. Burke and Wilson are long time friends, former college room mates, and Wilson is even the godfather of one of Burke's children.

Eventually the Leafs did land the highly-regarded Burke, but in their efforts to woo him, they had unintentionally shackled him to a coach who has drastically under-performed, and because of their deep ties to one another, Burkie is far less likely to give Wilson the desperately needed axe.

This is only one of many problems plaguing the 2010-2011 edition of the Maple Leafs, and I'll dissect this and many more aspects of the current state of Leafs Nation in part 2 of my mini-series: The Present.

Stay tuned for the next installment, and if you're a die-hard Leafer like me, try not to succumb to the suicidal urges that are forced upon our fragile psyches. The one trademark of blue & white fandom is blind, loyal and utterly unsubstantiated hope. No reason to change that now.

*Melo-Drama: Legacy of the Superfriends

Watching the New Jersey Nets' futile attempts to land Carmelo Anthony has been like watching seniors have sex: it's awkward, depressing, and you just know it's going to end with both parties getting hurt. After weeks of public speculation, posturing, name mentioning, and ego stroking, Nets owner Mikhail Prokhorov finally took the classic Russian strategy and pulled out after the damage had already been unquestionably done. The level of star-player ass-kissing in the NBA is now reaching ridiculous levels and we have the Miami Axis of Evil to thank for it.


When Lebron James and his annoying, tag-along kid brother, Chris Bosh left their respective teams for the greener pastures and lush media market of Miami, they set a new precedent for the way players are expected to carry themselves in their pursuits for title rings. The trick to this new-age practice of me-first sportsmanship is making it about the rings. You want to leave the team and city that made you a multi-millionaire, and an international celebrity because you think this other team can give you a better chance at a title. Magic won 5 titles with the same team. Micheal won 6. These are the heroes that history will remember as true champions and ambassadors of the sport. Role models. If Miami goes off for a half dozen titles the public will give them as much credit as a kid playing franchise mode on Xbox set to easy so he can stack his team and go 82-0. The line has been drawn. If you want to compete just text your buddies and coordinate a mass exodus to a team on the rise.


The NBA is traditionally a league that is driven by the star power of their premier players, but gone are the days of GM's and owners being able to keep these brats in check to any plausible degree. Spoiled-rotten players are now only one Tweet away from essentially holding their franchises ransom, with a list of demands complete with pizza for the hostages and a helicopter on the roof to whisk them away to a city of their choosing. Why embrace qualities such as perseverance, loyalty, and class when one can simply disregard these relics for the far trendier traits like self-gratification, elitism, and the raising of one's profile?


Carmelo Anthony (and more specifically his wife) saw the circus that became the Miami Heat this past summer. With his contract about to expire why not bolt for the hometown Knicks? Who's to stop him? The Nuggets now find themselves in a position where they have to move a player against their will. A player they have spent the past eight years building their franchise around. They're also in a position where the entire league knows just how desperate they are to get something, anything, to show for their massive investment.


Sports is after all a business, and investments need to produce returns or you FAIL. This is a notion lost on this generation of athlete; They are the source of revenue for these businesses. These teams pour millions into marketing, merchandising, and payroll to make star players star players. Somewhere along the line said athletes grow a misplaced sense of entitlement and seem to forget that it is a two way street, this business of sports. The pampering is taken for granted and they begin to believe that they are in fact the larger-than-life deities their Nike ads portray them as.


The Nets pulled out all the stops to bring Carmelo to the Jersey shore, but in the end it simply wasn't good enough. Melo is going to be Knick sooner or later, regardless if the team that gave him a career gets a return, or the team that wanted him gets their image dragged through the mud, and both get a roster full of disgruntled team mates. Why should that concern Carmelo? Carmelo isn't playing in either of those cities next year so why should he care? Where is the accountability? The same will go for Chris Paul. The same will go for Deron Williams. The same will go for whatever big-name free agents are available year-in and year-out from this season forward. Parity be damned, the NBA is now a league of cool kids and science geeks. Get used to it. Thanks a lot Lebron...

*Anthopoulos is Aces (so far...)

The sporting landscape in Toronto looks like a scene out of "The Road"; A barren, desolate landscape, devoid of warmth or sunlight, where the inhabitants are restlessly scouring the earth for some sort of hope, or at least sustenance to make it through another day. A little much? Well, when in Rome.

Let's examine the evidence:

Bryan Colangelo came dripping swagger into power with the Raptors, but as we approach the fifth anniversary of his hiring we have seen a team in constant flux with an almost yearly house cleaning and very little results. They currently sit 12th in the east.

Brian Burke came aboard as Maple Leafs GM with similar hype and confidence, and although he seems to make all the right moves, he is dealing with a franchise so deeply entangled in futility that he may not even last to see the fruits of his labour finally pay off. They currently sit 12th in the east.

Toronto FC...well, it says something about your state of affairs when your star captain (a Toronto native) gives your team the big F.U. to tryout for another club without permission or notice. They finished with 9 wins in 30 games and have yet to make the playoffs in their existence.

The Toronto Blue Jays finished 4th yet again in the AL East, but for good reason this statistic is somewhat misleading. They finished 4th in the toughest division in baseball while having a 10 win improvement over the previous season, and after losing the best pitcher in baseball. Not too shabby, and the reason for this startling forward progression is because of the astute vision of rookie GM Alex Anthopoulos.

Upon his hiring in 2009 Anthopoulos had a daunting task placed in front of him as his first order of business; trade Roy Halladay, arguably the best pitcher in the league and the heart, soul, and face of the franchise for umpteen years. He handled the task with veteran panache, scoring one of the top young pitching prospects available in Kyle Drabek. He followed that up by fleecing the dumbstruck Mariners by acquiring ace starter Brandon Morrow for average middle reliever Brandon League. Not a bad start.

Moving forward Anthopoulos outlined a legitimate and feasible vision for how the team was going to be handled, and has stuck to his word to a tee. The focus would be to stockpile young assets and to focus on building from within, while having a strong focus on pitching depth. With the acquisitions of players such as Drabek, Yunel Escobar, Adeiney Hechavarria, Travis D'Arnaud, and Brett Lawrie he did just that. Lawrie, considered by many to be a blue-chip prospect, came in a high-risk deal that sent Shaun Marcum to Milwaukee. This move was met with question marks by many fans and pundits, but it speaks to the confidence AA has in his young starting rotation, and you don't often get high rewards without taking high risks. The kid's got balls.

Going into this latest off-season the Jays had several roster holes needing solutions. The corner infield positions were in flux, as was the catching situation, the team lacked a legitimate closer, and needed to add speed to the top of the order. Triple-A MVP J.P. Arencibia and veteran back-up Jose Molina will take care of the catching duties. A re-tooled Aaron Hill and a cheaper Edwin Encarnacion will handle 3rd base, and the latter will double as a first baseman in a platoon situation with Adam Lind. The acquisition of Octavio Dotel and Jon Rauch creates a solid internal battle for the closer's position and adds depth to the bullpen. Free agent singing Rajai Davis will add forty to fifty stolen bases and outfield mobility. Check, check, check and check, and all within the plan he set in place when he started out.

Beyond all of those roster questions, Anthopoulos also had to replace an outgoing potential hall of fame manager in Cito Gaston. Over fifty candidates were interviewed for the position with no stone being left unturned in the search for the right synergy. In the end AA settled on John Farrell, a man with no Major League management experience. Dumb move? Think again. John Farrell has a resume that includes five years as a head of player development in Cleveland, and four years as the pitching coach for Boston. A track record that directly mirrors the game plan of the Anthopoulos regime. Me thinks me sees a trend here.

The only hurdle left to conquer this off season is the arbitration of reigning Major League home run king Jose Bautista, which according to sources should only be a formality as Bautista is very happy in Toronto and will likely re-sign. AA also avoided going to arbitration with Escobar and Jason Frasor, signing both to one-year deals, taking care of the team's short-term needs at their respective positions while giving the team flexibility in the long-term.

It is still far too early to grade the job Anthopoulos has done with these Blue Jays. There are too many what-ifs and yet-to-be-seens to know exactly how deep an impact he will make on a franchise that hasn't made the playoffs since the World Series glory days of 1993. There is however, one distinct attribute these Jays can boast that no Jays team has been able to over that span: direction. Alex Anthopoulos is a man with a plan, and even though the arms race in the AL East is always the toughest, this team looks poised to compete.

*Onion Sportsdome Long Overdue

A lot has happened since we kissed 2010 goodbye: The Seahawks sneaked into the playoffs with a losing record and somehow upset the defending champs, Team Canada screwed the pooch for 20 minutes and settled for silver in the World Junior Hockey Championships, and Lebron James defied the odds by making himself into an even bigger douche when he dissed his hometown again, this time over Twitter. All of these things are awesome, but last night the world got sportsed in a whole new way. Enter "Onion Sportsdome", a satirical take on ESPN's "Sportscenter". Think "The Daily Show" with less facts and more ridiculousness.

The glory of the format lies in the details, and the guys at "The Onion"  have got them nailed. From the sets, graphics, and riff-wailing live band to the testosterone-laden mile-a-minute rhetoric and lack of interest in soccer (the button for soccer on their website is labeled "Women's sports / Soccer"), this show oozes authenticity. It's this realistic approach that makes the over-the-top content so hilarious, and just like "The Daily Show" & "The Colbert Report" the jokes do, on some level, make a statement. Lebron, Wade, and Bosh rewriting the NBA rulebook to make the game cooler, the city of St. Louis giving Albert Pujols a working key to the city and opening the homes and fridges of it's residents in an attempt to get him to re-sign, Alex Rodriguez writing, directing, and starring in a broadway musical, all comedic gold and not-so-subtle shots at the ridiculous egos we nurture in the sporting world.

The arrival of  The 'Dome, at least to me, seems long overdue. There is Terminatoresque body count to the amount of spoof news shows that have tried to duplicate the success of "The Daily Show", but none have skewered the unique tone of sports broadcasting. There are so many aspects of this medium that are hilarious in and of themselves that all one needs to do is embellish the style only slightly to achieve the perfect comedic pitch, and Onion Sportsdome seems to have done that beautifully. The absurdity of the stories being reported seem to fit perfectly into the context of the show because the people presenting them to you are caricatures themselves.

The writing is top-notch, the anchors banter with the best, and the content is hilariously (and surprisingly) poignant. Here's hoping we get a lot more 'Dome in the future.

*The Great Canadian Hockey Monopoly

I love hockey. I revel in the Canadiana it represents. I love the in-depth coverage, I love the rabidness of the reportage we have here north of the border, and I love the extra lengths our sportscasters go to give it to us. I also hate it. I am a beard sporting, lumberjack jacket wearing, beer swilling Canadian stereotype, but I'm also a sports fan. I love football, baseball, basketball, MMA, and even footy (I love footy so much I actually call it footy), and for people like me there are not alot of options on the big three Canadian sports networks.


On a given night in the Canadian sports broadcasting landscape an average of 50% of the coverage we see involves NHL hockey. This leaves the other 50% to cover every other event under the sun, and most of these stories get grossly under reported. The popular argument for any network executive working at either TSN, Rogers Sportsnet, or The Score would be that they are simply giving the public what they want. This begs the question: at what point do they stop giving us what we want and start telling us what we want?


Example: The other night Dwight Howard put up 26 points and 23 rebounds against the Mavericks, one of the top 3 teams in the entire NBA. It was Howard's third straight game of 20+ rebounds. This amazing stat was not mentioned once in Sportsnet's recap of the game, they instead chose to take a "Hedo Turkoglu" narrative in their coverage. For the record Turkoglu put up an underwhelming 9 points in the loss to the Mavs, but because he is a half season removed from a messy breakup with the Toronto Raptors, the brilliant minds at Sportsnet chose to tell us what aspects of the game we were interested in. And here I thought objectivity was the golden rule in Sports broadcasting. (I won't even get into the droning, emotionless personalities that Sportsnet chooses to prop up in front of their telepromters day in and day out. That's another gripe for another day.)


TSN on the other hand is Canada's oldest, and most respected Sports network. They are also one of the most biased. Every day Sportscentre leads off with ten to fifteen minutes of NHL coverage, complete with post-game scrums from each game, and on-site reporters for each of Canada's franchises. TSN boasts an armada of hockey insiders and analysts, but have nobody who specializes in baseball. No NFL insider. No NBA segment. They outsource this coverage to their ESPN cohorts. Not a bad idea when you have no one on staff who knows anything about these sports, but if your slogan is "Canada's Sports Leader" shouldn't you have at least one person designated to cover each of these? At least The Score and Sportsnet each have some random British guy who talks about the EPL so we can at we can trust in his sophisticated accent, even if he is only covering one of the many top-end soccer leagues in the world. The last time I checked Canada's national sport was Lacrosse. I don't remember the last NLL game I saw covered on any of the big three networks, including "Canada's Sports Leader". 

They don't even cover "Hockey" per se, they cover the NHL, because the NHL are the ones who have the lucrative broacasting contract with TSN and Sportsnet. I don't see any OHL highlights on a daily basis, no WHL or QMJHL (although I do get extensive coverage of the World Junior Championship, because it is conveniently broadcast on TSN). There is no mention of the European elite leagues in Germany, Sweden, Finland, the Czech Republc, or Switzerland etc. The Kontinental Hockey League is the next biggest hockey league in the world and I can honestly say I have never once seen a single KHL highlight on Canadian television. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that the KHL doesn't seem to get along with the NHL? Wouldn't wanna burn that Bettman bridge I guess. Hell, they don't even cover NCAA hockey.


I know nothing about NCAA sports and I place the blame squarely on the major sports networks in my home country for indoctrinating this love of hockey that lives inside me, and the indifference to everything else that comes with it. I didn't know who Cam Newton was until he won the Heisman. I read it in a footnote of a newspaper. That's what the NCAA is in Canadian media: a footnote.  

The Score does a fantastic job of trying to bring the NCAA to the forefront of the Canadian media, but they have neither the resources nor the clout to make a big enough impact on the national sporting psyche. They are also responsible for being one of the first to offer comprehensive coverage of Mixed Martial Arts, and of European soccer, in particular Italian Serie A. They offer coverage of CIS football, something neither of the two heavyweight stations can say. Grassroots stimulation of the homegrown product. They even have the basics down: their ticker doesn't go anywhere during commercials. Little things like that actually do matter.


Despite all of these things, I've still got a deep passion for the sport of Hockey. I love it with all my being, and I embrace the Canadian stereotype that it makes me. What I would appreciate though is having the option to watch something else from time to time, and having that something get the same attention as Hockey. There is alot more to the sporting landscape than just puck, and maybe if we gave our kids the option to fall in love with something different, our other national teams might not suck so badly, so consistently, while our hockey team perennially spanks the planet. Just a thought.

*Michael Vick: Role Model

Over my first three blog entries I have not shied away from using the term "Douche" (make that 4, the streak is still alive!). There are many a douche in the world of sport. In a world laden with massive paychecks with egos to match, who can really blame these babied primadonna's for thinking their lives and opinions hold so much weight? There are womanizers (Ben Roethlisburger, Tiger Woods), gun toting gangsters (Gilbert Arenas, Plaxico Burress), drug abusers (Michael Irvin, Theo Fleury, 20 years of Major League Baseball) and even a few murderers (OJ Simpson, Rae Carruth) in the mix. Amid all of these horrid creatures one man seems to be standing tall as a beacon of hope and redemption:

Michael Vick.

Too soon? Fuck it.

After spending close to two years in a federal penitentiary for bankrolling and participating in an underground dog fighting ring, a pastime that saw Vick murder unfit dogs in a multitude of creative and disgusting ways, Michael Vick has torn down the road to redemption at an unprecedented pace. The mere mention of his name only a year or two ago meant all types of nasty reactions. There was a time when animal rights groups were lighting torches and tying lynch ropes in the wee hours of the morning to bring him to swift and decisive justice. 'This sick fuck must pay for his crimes against humanity!'. Now, in his second season since returning to the NFL, Michael Vick is the most popular player in the league. He currently holds a head and shoulders lead in pro-bowl fan voting. Even opposing players are approaching him on the field for autographs.

'What has the world come to?' one might think, but upon closer investigation we may actually discover that Vick has genuinely undergone a personal transformation. That, or he has one hell of a P.R. rep pulling the strings like some sort of diabolical puppet master. It's probably a bit of both, but either way it is a story that deserves all the attention it has received. Vick is saying and doing all the right things and is a poster boy for the 'everybody deserves a second chance' attitude that left-leaning North America fights for, and almost unanimously seems to resent any time it actually works out. How dare this heathen dog-killing bastard learn from his mistakes and become a better person for it?! The gall!

Vick's personal growth off the field has been mirrored by a comparable level of growth on it. He is currently enjoying a career season in which he has morphed from a one-dimensional running quarterback into one of the league's finest passers. Anyone arguing the contrary need only reference the fact that it took more than half a season before Vick threw a single interception. That's no random-sports-fact to sneeze at. His accolades are not only personal either, the Eagles are tops in the NFC East division, solidifying that position after a monumental comeback win against the Giants this past weekend. Wins and losses are the stat that truly measure a player's worth to his team, and Michael Vick has proven his worth with as much class and selflessness as the Mannings, Brees', and Bradys of the world. Michael Vick is the real deal.

Couple Vick's amazing on-field success with his (strategically well-publicized) charitable work and you have the recipe for a role model. Yeah, I said it. Micheal Vick is a role model, somebody we should emulate and aspire to be like (particularly Tiger, Big Ben, and other disgraced athletes of their ilk). Who would have ever thought we would see the day?

Vick's post-game thoughts after engineering an amazing fourth quarter comeback versus the Giants: "I have to thank God for the opportunity"...

WOW, AND he's a christian? Somebody get this guy a campaign manager; "MICHAEL VICK FOR PRESIDENT". At the pace his image has been changing I wouldn't rule it out. Vick currently has a higher approval rating than Barrack Obama anyways. The only thing that could possibly screw it up for him would be saying something stupid like "I'd love to own a dog". ...Wait, what? "It's an important part of my rehabilitation". Yeah, and an important part of Lindsay Lohan's rehabilitation comes with a mirror, a razorblade, and a late-night visit from a local rapper named "Sir Pack Slingington". I guess he really screwed the pooch on that one.

Too soon? Fuck it.

 I guess some things in the world of sports never change, even when other things do. No matter how good a guy Vick has become, he will always be a star athlete, which means he will always have this misguided idea that his shit doesn't stink. Slow it down, Mike. Don't push your luck.

*Troubled Teams Trade Toronto's Trash

A proverbial stink arose this Saturday as the Phoenix Suns and Orlando Magic traded assholes in a swap of two of Toronto's most hated former Raptors. Orlando sent Vince Carter, Marcin Gortat, Mickael Pietrus and a first-rounder to Phoenix for Hedo Turkoglu, Jason Richardson and Earl Clark. The Magic, sensing that Gortat would get little playing time behind the freakish, super-human Dwight Howard, initiated the move in the hopes of adding some mobility and outside shooting to their lineup by bringing in the two-time slam dunk champion Richardson, and a familiar face in Turkoglu. The Magic were also apparently unhappy with the douche quotient of their club, because on the same day they acquired the much-maligned Gilbert Arenas from the Washington Wizards for Rashard Lewis.


The unexpected mid-season house cleaning can only be perceived as an attempt to keep up with the Jones', or in this case The James'. On a more basic level, this was a move made out of sheer panic. The Magic's grip on the division has been slipping away over recent weeks as inconsistent play, coupled with the apparent jelling of the super-friends in Miami has seen the Heat take over as leaders. Get used to it, Orlando. 


Let's not get ahead of ourselves, The Orlando magic are no joke. any team with a ferocious animal such as Dwight Howard, who can go off for 20 rebounds on any given night, must be taken seriously. The fact of the matter is that the evil empire that is afoot in Miami will not be held at bay for long, but it does make the battle of Florida that much more interesting. Making the moves now signals to the fan base, and to the rest of the league, that Orlando is not ready to relinquish it's spot as genuine contenders, and that they will not be out-douched on the road to victory. The Magic now boast one player who skips games to go clubbing, and another who is willing to threaten his own team mates at gun point. And they call Lebron the villain...


On the flip side of the coin, Washington and Phoenix have to be seen as the winners in both of these deals. Off-loading an overpaid egomaniac such as Agent Zero (or Glock 9 as I now call him) is an epic win for the The Wizards franchise. They've shed a major P.R. and locker room burden and replaced it with a solid and reliable piece to move forward into a new era. Phoenix are also big time winners here. The Suns needed help in the paint, and have gotten just what the doctor ordered in the previously under-utilized Gortat, plus added a veteran (in age, not attitude) piece in Vince Carter. Both players should presumably flourish within a Steve Nash-run up-tempo offence, although neither player will replace J-Rich's athleticism. Add to this the fact they further bolstered their front court with a solid bench forward Mickael Pietrus and the future dividends to be paid through the acquisition of a first round pick, and the Suns have seemingly solved problems for both the short and long term.


Orlando have really jumped the gun in their attempts to match assholes with the Miami Heat. The team that wins a trade is the team that winds up with the better player, and on paper the Magic gave up the better players in both moves. What can't be told yet is the effect the move will have on Turkoglu, Richardson, and Arenas, as the change of scenery, and a winning atmosphere could see all of these players flourish. Personally, I think they've dramatically altered the chemistry of their team at a time when continuity should be shining through. Now instead of pulling together, they will be forced into a feeling-out period in which their new core grows adjusted to one another, right as their biggest division rival already has. 


Orlando Magic: EPIC FAIL? Only time will tell.

*Brett Favre is America

    If Brett Favre were born 15 years later he'd be the guy in the bar with the popped collar talking to an uninterested female about the new cold-air intake in his F-150 (stay with me, this is going to make sense). With the end of Favre's monolithic 297 consecutive games started streak we saw the culmination of what has truly become a circus of self-indulgence. It began with his first 'retirement' several seasons ago and has continued right up until this past weekend, when after sitting out and watching his team get trounced, he proceeded to spend an entire press conference talking about himself. This begs the question: at what point did Brett Favre stop caring about his team? Did he leave his heart in Green Bay? Or did he simply begin buying into his own legend? 

    Between his constant waffling over retirement, his cell-phone-penis-picture scandal, or his insistence on constantly trotting himself out to start games all season despite being in no condition to help his team win, Favre has, in my eyes, tarnished his cherished legacy. 

    This draws an obscure parallel; Brett Favre has become a living metaphor for the United States of America. Bear with me here...The United States began a war for all the wrong reasons, and marched into the Middle East several years ago with no definite plan for victory, but by god, they're American and they're going to kick ass. Why? Freedom, that's why. Their real motive? Oil and global economic control. 

Freedom = another shot at the Super Bowl. 
Oil = the padding of an already unattainably large record and the stroking of an apparently out of control ego.

    In both instances things did not turn out exactly as planned. When George Bush landed in a fighter jet on an aircraft carrier with "Highway to the Danger zone" playing in his helmet and proclaimed to the world "Mission Accomplished" it somewhat mirrored the emotion we were supposed to feel the first time Favre proclaimed he'd be back for one more season. In both instances the novelty wore off a little more every time they tried to sell us a polished turd, and the grimness of reality stunk that much worse.

    Granted, Favre did have arguably the best season of his career last year, despite coming up short in the conference championship, and the war on (and/or of) terror has not seen a comparable feel-good moment, but Favre's antics have become the epitome of American self-absorbency. "Hah', I'm Brett Favre, ah' wear Wrangler jeans, and I'm the greatest of awl tahme. Ah' been buryin' mah' team awl yur, but hoo-ie, mah record sure is sumthin', ain't it?". That quote is, for the record, less than verbatim, but he did answer questions in the post-game press conference with an aloof sense of self-accomplishment that was borderline laughable. Hey Brett! Guess what? Your team is basically eliminated from playoff contention, care to comment? I guess not, considering they may have had a much stronger record by this point had they not placed all their hope in a broken down 41 year old.

    Don't get me wrong. Brad Childress allowed this to happen with unprecedented malaise, and the Vikes have been battling the injury bug all season long, so the poor record is not entirely Favre's fault. My problem is the lack of accountability he has chosen to exhibit while playing in the one position in all of pro sports that demands the absolute highest level of it. I am not going to dispute that Brett Favre could quite possibly be the best of all time, but when you take a close look at the current state of affairs in Minnesota, he just seems like kind of a douche.

*The business of bloodlust (and so it begins...)

The world of mixed martial arts is a sick and debaucherous spectacle. Bright lights, loud music, women in bathing suits paraded about, men in tights pounding each others faces into oblivion and twisting limbs into unnatural positions, all to the soundtrack of the drunken masses screaming uncontrollably for more. Montreal is a sophisticated market.

 Ironic however is the fact that a massive contingent of last night's crowd at the Bell Centre in Montreal was from Ontario, and other neighboring  provinces (as exemplified at one point with a hearty chant of "Go Leafs Go" from within enemy territory). Trains, and buses flooding in from all over packed full of fight fans ready to let loose the primal instinct within all of us; The insatiable blood lust that conservative North America likes to deem as taboo. Waiters and hotel concierges begrudgingly unfazed by the aloof obnoxiousness of the glossy-eyed anglophones who had, for one weekend, invaded their city.

The UFC is like sex on steroids, meaning if nothing else, it is extremely marketable. People love violence, pain, and competition. They love a good guy to place on a pedestal and love a bad guy to condemn to a beating within an inch of his life. They love victory. It only makes sense that the UFC has found their niche by exploiting these basic human traits by turning their event into a one-stop shop. Hell, they even have near-naked women, just to give it that edgy undertone of smut.

The only thing differentiating these events with the battle-to-the-death clashes in the old coliseum is the option to order on pay-per-view (and of course the privilege of retaining one's right to live should one lose). The knowledge of these facts doesn't sway anyone's interest in the slightest. Who doesn't like to embrace humanity on it's lowest, most animalistic levels? Not this guy. No good people, I fancy myself one of the unruliest of the hordes.

UFC 124 offered one of the best opportunities to see all of these aspects on display at their finest. Georges St-Pierre: the indomitable hometown champion of the people. Josh Koscheck: incorrigible uber-douche of the decade. Vince McMahon wishes he could write 'em this good. Don King wishes he could (still) hype 'em this big. Although the card for the night was fairly impressive, with top-end talent like Thiago Alves , Joe Stevenson, and Stefan Struve being showcased, it all seemed like a distraction. A side-show, or precursor to what everyone was truly there to see. Good versus evil. Right versus wrong. Canada versus the world. 'Fuck Josh Koscheck and the arrogant horse he rode in on'.

Every fight leading up to the main event was overshadowed by chants of 'G.S.P.', and when the moment had finally arrived, the crowd had been whipped into a raucous frenzy. In true sporting cliched fashion the building was electric. St-Pierre might as well have made his entrance on a fire-breathing white steed. For all of the hype surrounding the encounter there really were no surprises. The good guy has to win. And how. The champion rode the wave of adoration to yet another annihilation of a sub-par contender, and the crowd was sent home feeling like they had all reached a simultaneous orgasm. And in some crazy, semi-metaphorical sense, they had.

Somewhere Dana White is laying on pile of money with several beautiful women, cackling with victorious joy at the monster he's created. No other result could have been better for business. An unstoppable champion, a battered villain, a satisfied fan base, and a venue three times that size to showcase his next Canadian spectacle. His business is blood lust, and business is very, very good.