OK, fine, then. The Blob, just this once, will succumb to hackneyed tradition.
It's a notorious Don't Tell Me I Have To Do That Just Because Everyone Else Does zone, but just this once, as Baby 2018 rides the ball down and crushes feeble old 2017 (sparing America another Mooching Entitlement Hog, as Our Only Available President and the rest of the granny starvers would no doubt see it), the Blob will relent. Well, sort of.
Unlike so many others, it will not look back at 2017. 2017 is so yesterday, or it will be in a matter of hours. No, the Blob chooses only to look forward, taking the famous advice of Satchel Paige. And it will not do so by predicting what's going to happen in 2018.
It's going to predict what won't happen.
And so ... onward:
In January, Oklahoma quarterback and Heisman Trophy winner Baker Mayfield does not show up for the postgame presser after throwing for 10 gazillion yards and 85 touchdowns in the national championship game. This runs his record in showing up for bowl media availability to 1-4.
He does, however, show up later with a note from Epstein's mom.*
(*Random "Welcome Back, Kotter" reference)
In February, Dale Earnhardt Jr. does not win the Daytona 500, on account of he's retired. Ditto Tony Stewart and Jeff Gordon. Ditto Danica Patrick, who is kinda-sorta retired but not for Daytona, and also not for the Indianapolis 500.
In other news, Baker Mayfield says he "didn't know I was invited" to the Daytona pre-race presser, but he's real sorry he missed it, and Mrs. Epstein "promises it won't happen again."
In March, Hampton, Bucknell, Coastal Carolina and Siena do not make it to the Final Four. Neither do Middle Tennessee State, Sort-Of-In-The-Middle Tennessee Tech and Not-Quite-In-The-Middle-But-Very-Very-Close Tennessee A&M.
In other news, Duke coach Mike Krzyzewski creates a stir during a postgame regional presser by loudly demanding to know where the hell Baker Mayfield is, because "dammit he was supposed to be here for this."
In April, the Browns do not pick first in the NFL Draft, choosing instead to trade the top pick for a sixer of PBR and a really cool model of the Millennium Falcon. They explain that they did this because they wanted to trade down to take Baker Mayfield.
In other news, Mayfield fails to show up for his introductory Browns news conference, immediately going from disgraced-Mrs.-Epstein-note-bearer to a bonafide American hero.
"That boy's got some sense!" America beams.
In May, Danica Patrick does not continue her kinda-sorta retirement by winning the Indianapolis 500. She does, however, qualify and run well and sell a lot of tickets.
In other news, Baker Mayfield does not show up to sing "Back Home Again In Indiana," despite being America's hero. His explanation "Geez, I'm really sorry, I had it on my calendar and everything" is well received, however, on account of America simply assumes he's still hiding from the Browns.
In June, the Cavaliers and Warriors do not meet in the NBA Finals for the fourth straight year. This is because the NBA cancels the NBA Finals, saying "we've seen this enough" and "the season's dragged on way too long already."
In other news, the Browns receive a note from Epstein's mom which says "Sorry about minicamp. Baker's car broke down. But he's getting it fixed and he'll be there any day, promise."
In July, Aaron Judge and Giancarlo Stanton do not combine to hit 47 home runs. This is because they combine to hit 52. The Yankees, meanwhile, are already 25 games ahead in the AL East, prompting thousands of fans to quit watching Major League Baseball because "what's the point?"
In other news, Baker Mayfield does not send the Browns another note from Epstein's mom. He sends a decorative fruit basket with a note that says "Deeply sorry for all the forgetting."
In September, Nick Saban does not snarl and tell the media to get off his damn lawn when they bring up Alabama's preseason No. 1 ranking. This is because he's snarling and telling the media to get off his damn lawn because they've dared to ask him a bunch of other questions, too.
In other news, Baker Mayfield does not do anything, on account of this joke has pretty much run its course and the Blob is bored with it.
In October, the Yankees, who won the East by 35 games, do not fail to go on and win the World Series. Aaron Judge and Giancarlo Stanton combine for 32 home runs in a four-game sweep of the Dodgers, during which the Yankees outscore L.A. 57-2 and keep themselves interested by playing Candy Crush on their phones in the dugout.
Stanton puts up the high score.
In December, some quarterback or running back from the SEC, Big Ten, ACC, Big 12 or Pac 12 wins the Heisman Trophy. Shocking everyone, he does not fail to show up for the award presentation.
When asked about it later, he says, "I didn't want anyone to think I was that Baker Mayfield guy."
In other news, the Browns immediately cross him off their draft board.
Sunday, December 31, 2017
Bigger Ten
So now we know what the Big Ten Conference's best month is, football-wise.
It's December.
You know, that month when they play all those fruit/car care/financial institution bowls, and the Big Ten gets to play the schlubs from all those other sorry conferences.
In case you missed it last night, Wisconsin gave Miami a head start and then smacked it upside the head in the Orange Bowl, and Penn State knocked off Washington in the Fiesta Bowl. (That these bowls, plus the Cotton, should rightly be played on New Year's Day instead of several days before is another Blob discussion for another day. But the universe is out of round when those games aren't on New Year's Day, and traditional second-tier dreck like the Peach, Citrus and Outback are.)
Anyway, Wisky won and Penn State won, and the night before (in the Cotton Bowl) Ohio State laminated USC, and that means the Big Ten is 7-0 in bowl games. Which suggests something a lot of us have suspected all along, which is that it was a better conference this year than the over-hyped SEC.
The SEC had Alabama, Georgia and Auburn, and after that it was Mediocre City. The Big Ten, outside of maybe Ohio State and Wisky, didn't have a 'Bama or Georgia, but it did have Michigan and Michigan State and Penn State and, occasionally, Iowa. Plus a vastly improved Purdue program. Top to bottom, it was a far tougher go than the SEC was.
As it's proved in December. Or at least has seemed to.
It's December.
You know, that month when they play all those fruit/car care/financial institution bowls, and the Big Ten gets to play the schlubs from all those other sorry conferences.
In case you missed it last night, Wisconsin gave Miami a head start and then smacked it upside the head in the Orange Bowl, and Penn State knocked off Washington in the Fiesta Bowl. (That these bowls, plus the Cotton, should rightly be played on New Year's Day instead of several days before is another Blob discussion for another day. But the universe is out of round when those games aren't on New Year's Day, and traditional second-tier dreck like the Peach, Citrus and Outback are.)
Anyway, Wisky won and Penn State won, and the night before (in the Cotton Bowl) Ohio State laminated USC, and that means the Big Ten is 7-0 in bowl games. Which suggests something a lot of us have suspected all along, which is that it was a better conference this year than the over-hyped SEC.
The SEC had Alabama, Georgia and Auburn, and after that it was Mediocre City. The Big Ten, outside of maybe Ohio State and Wisky, didn't have a 'Bama or Georgia, but it did have Michigan and Michigan State and Penn State and, occasionally, Iowa. Plus a vastly improved Purdue program. Top to bottom, it was a far tougher go than the SEC was.
As it's proved in December. Or at least has seemed to.
Saturday, December 30, 2017
A small bowl of something
The Blob usually avoids the All Then Other Bowls season, on account of there's so many Others it can't keep them straight, and also because it's got other fish to pan-sear during the holidays, like binge-watching old Irwin Allen TV series from the 1960s.
(Which plankton monster will the Seaview battle next? Find out on the next exciting episode of "Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea"!)
Anyway ... the various spud, military-industrial complex and chicken joint bowls don't do it for the Blob, generally.
But last night a few interesting things happened ... well, three ... that the Blob feels compelled to mention:
1. In the aptly named Belk Bowl (and, yes, I threw "aptly named" in there just for the heck of it), Wake Forest beat Texas A&M 55-52. And not in overtime. The defensive MVP was the game clock, which successfully stopped both teams from scoring when neither could manage it on their own.
2. In the Cotton Bowl, which used to be one of the biggies but now is just another part of the pre-New Year's Day blur of Belks and the like, Ohio State throttled USC 24-7. USC quarterback Sam Darnold, projected to be one of the top quarterback prospects in the April NFL Draft, played like an enormous foof, presiding over four turnovers. He's now reportedly reconsidering whether he wants to come out or not, which might have been the plan all along.
If so, self-sabotage would seem to be an extreme measure just to avoid possibly being drafted by the Browns. Then again, they are the Browns.
3. Last but not least, New Mexico State beat Utah State in the aptly named Arizona Bowl (because it was played in Arizona). This was New Mexico State's first bowl win in 57 years. It was also New Mexico State's first bowl appearance in 57 years, which could be some kind of record, although probably not.
Still, it's been since 1960 that New Mexico State played in a bowl. That's so long ago "Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea" wasn't even on the air yet. It was a much more innocent time.
I mean, we didn't even know about the plankton monsters.
(Which plankton monster will the Seaview battle next? Find out on the next exciting episode of "Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea"!)
Anyway ... the various spud, military-industrial complex and chicken joint bowls don't do it for the Blob, generally.
But last night a few interesting things happened ... well, three ... that the Blob feels compelled to mention:
1. In the aptly named Belk Bowl (and, yes, I threw "aptly named" in there just for the heck of it), Wake Forest beat Texas A&M 55-52. And not in overtime. The defensive MVP was the game clock, which successfully stopped both teams from scoring when neither could manage it on their own.
2. In the Cotton Bowl, which used to be one of the biggies but now is just another part of the pre-New Year's Day blur of Belks and the like, Ohio State throttled USC 24-7. USC quarterback Sam Darnold, projected to be one of the top quarterback prospects in the April NFL Draft, played like an enormous foof, presiding over four turnovers. He's now reportedly reconsidering whether he wants to come out or not, which might have been the plan all along.
If so, self-sabotage would seem to be an extreme measure just to avoid possibly being drafted by the Browns. Then again, they are the Browns.
3. Last but not least, New Mexico State beat Utah State in the aptly named Arizona Bowl (because it was played in Arizona). This was New Mexico State's first bowl win in 57 years. It was also New Mexico State's first bowl appearance in 57 years, which could be some kind of record, although probably not.
Still, it's been since 1960 that New Mexico State played in a bowl. That's so long ago "Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea" wasn't even on the air yet. It was a much more innocent time.
I mean, we didn't even know about the plankton monsters.
Friday, December 29, 2017
Money for nothing
You'll never go broke betting on our august state legislature to propose cockamamie stuff, like that time a century or so back when it tried to legislate the value of pi.
In that fine tradition, here comes Rep. Milo Smith, R-What The Hell, floating a bill that would require the Indianapolis Colts to offer refunds until the end of the first quarter during home games in which Colts players protest police brutality and racial injustice.
In other words: If you're offended by players kneeling with their heads bowed during the national anthem -- not spitting on the flag, not cursing at it, but (as the Colts did) kneeling in an attitude of prayer -- you should be compensated by the ballclub for your hurt feelings.
That this sort of nonsense gets proposed in a reactionary state like Indiana is not outrageous, because it's not surprising. What would be outrageous is if the lege spends even five minutes on it when it has actual business to attend to. I don't pay my taxes so Milo Smith and his ilk can grandstand. If you want to do that, go into show business.
There are many things dopey about Rep. What The Hell's proposal, not the least of which is that it's probably not constitutional. It's a government entity threatening to punish peaceful and legitimate protest. That might not even pass the smell test with this Supreme Court.
Here's another thing: Legislation establishes legal precedent, and that legal precedent tends to come back to bite its authors in ways they might not have anticipated. For instance, if I pay for a Colts ticket and I find it offensive that the team is forcing the players to stand by state decree, can I get my money back, too? Can I sue the NFL, as a ticketholder, because I'm offended that Colin Kaepernick has been blackballed for trying to shine a light on injustice?
Of course that would be silly. But, hey: When you open that door, you open that door.
And if you're that offended by players kneeling at a time you've decided is inappropriate?
Stay home.
In that fine tradition, here comes Rep. Milo Smith, R-What The Hell, floating a bill that would require the Indianapolis Colts to offer refunds until the end of the first quarter during home games in which Colts players protest police brutality and racial injustice.
In other words: If you're offended by players kneeling with their heads bowed during the national anthem -- not spitting on the flag, not cursing at it, but (as the Colts did) kneeling in an attitude of prayer -- you should be compensated by the ballclub for your hurt feelings.
That this sort of nonsense gets proposed in a reactionary state like Indiana is not outrageous, because it's not surprising. What would be outrageous is if the lege spends even five minutes on it when it has actual business to attend to. I don't pay my taxes so Milo Smith and his ilk can grandstand. If you want to do that, go into show business.
There are many things dopey about Rep. What The Hell's proposal, not the least of which is that it's probably not constitutional. It's a government entity threatening to punish peaceful and legitimate protest. That might not even pass the smell test with this Supreme Court.
Here's another thing: Legislation establishes legal precedent, and that legal precedent tends to come back to bite its authors in ways they might not have anticipated. For instance, if I pay for a Colts ticket and I find it offensive that the team is forcing the players to stand by state decree, can I get my money back, too? Can I sue the NFL, as a ticketholder, because I'm offended that Colin Kaepernick has been blackballed for trying to shine a light on injustice?
Of course that would be silly. But, hey: When you open that door, you open that door.
And if you're that offended by players kneeling at a time you've decided is inappropriate?
Stay home.
The War on Christmas is real
OK, so it's not. It's an invention of the Trump Propaganda Network, i.e. Fox "News," which has never turned down an opportunity to make up stuff if there was phony outrage to be exploited.
(Strangely, there actually was a War on Christmas once. According to the esteemed Charles Pierce, it was waged not by Barack Obama but by the Puritans, a rigidly conservative Christian sect who decried its celebration in the Massachusetts Bay Colony because it incorporated certain pagan elements. Not until 1856 did the commonwealth of Massachusetts officially declare Christmas a public holiday. Your history tidbit for today.)
Where was I again?
Oh, yeah. The War on Christmas.
Which the National Football League carried out (on Christmas Eve, no less) against poor Alvin Kamara, who only wanted to spread some seasonal joy. This is strictly forbidden in the NFL, whose notion of propriety has always been mindlessly rigid, and one of the reasons people (OK, me) find it a boring and generally easy-to-ignore entity.
This time it was Kamara, the sensational Saints' rookie, who got the NFL all harrumph-y. It seems he wore a pair of Christmas-themed cleats -- red with little bells, like Christmas stockings -- for the Saints game on Christmas Eve. This violated the NFL's policy against wearing something that isn't in your team colors. And so, rather than let it slide like anyone with a lick of sense would have, the No Fun League fined Kamara $6,000.
You keep Christmas in your way, and let me keep it in mine, said commissioner Roger Goodell, presumably.
(Actually, it was George C. Scott who said that, in the 1984 version of "A Christmas Carol." His nephew, Fred, protested "Keep it? But you don't keep it!" After which Scrooge replied "Let me leave it alone, then." Which sounds very Rog-like when you think about it.)
At any rate, like Scrooge's nephew, Kamara refused to let Uncle Rog sour his holiday spirit. Saying "yeah, (the cleats) were worth it," he's declared he's going to start up a GoFundMe page to collect donations to pay off the fine, and anything he raises beyond that will go to buy equipment for local youth sports teams.
Meanwhile, Rog declared that if he could work his will, "every idiot who goes about with 'Merry Christmas' on his lips would be boiled in his own pudding, and buried with a stake of holly through his heart!"
Oh, wait. That was George C. Scott, too.
So easy to get them confused.
(Strangely, there actually was a War on Christmas once. According to the esteemed Charles Pierce, it was waged not by Barack Obama but by the Puritans, a rigidly conservative Christian sect who decried its celebration in the Massachusetts Bay Colony because it incorporated certain pagan elements. Not until 1856 did the commonwealth of Massachusetts officially declare Christmas a public holiday. Your history tidbit for today.)
Where was I again?
Oh, yeah. The War on Christmas.
Which the National Football League carried out (on Christmas Eve, no less) against poor Alvin Kamara, who only wanted to spread some seasonal joy. This is strictly forbidden in the NFL, whose notion of propriety has always been mindlessly rigid, and one of the reasons people (OK, me) find it a boring and generally easy-to-ignore entity.
This time it was Kamara, the sensational Saints' rookie, who got the NFL all harrumph-y. It seems he wore a pair of Christmas-themed cleats -- red with little bells, like Christmas stockings -- for the Saints game on Christmas Eve. This violated the NFL's policy against wearing something that isn't in your team colors. And so, rather than let it slide like anyone with a lick of sense would have, the No Fun League fined Kamara $6,000.
You keep Christmas in your way, and let me keep it in mine, said commissioner Roger Goodell, presumably.
(Actually, it was George C. Scott who said that, in the 1984 version of "A Christmas Carol." His nephew, Fred, protested "Keep it? But you don't keep it!" After which Scrooge replied "Let me leave it alone, then." Which sounds very Rog-like when you think about it.)
At any rate, like Scrooge's nephew, Kamara refused to let Uncle Rog sour his holiday spirit. Saying "yeah, (the cleats) were worth it," he's declared he's going to start up a GoFundMe page to collect donations to pay off the fine, and anything he raises beyond that will go to buy equipment for local youth sports teams.
Meanwhile, Rog declared that if he could work his will, "every idiot who goes about with 'Merry Christmas' on his lips would be boiled in his own pudding, and buried with a stake of holly through his heart!"
Oh, wait. That was George C. Scott, too.
So easy to get them confused.
Thursday, December 28, 2017
(Foster) Farm news
Today's ag report comes to us from California, where Purdue's stock rose, fell and then rose once again in the Foster Farms Bowl, a Free Advertising For Whatever Foster Farms Is production that was a pretty entertaining exhibition of American college football as these things go.
Final score: Boilermakers 38, Arizona 35.
Which means Jeff Brohm's first season as Purdue's coach ends with a winning record (7-6) and a bowl victory. He did this, mind you, with the same bunch of sadsacks who went 3-8 a year ago. If you're a Purdue alum or fan, this is wonderful news -- and also the worst news ever.
On the one hand, it looks as if Purdue finally found a suitable successor to the late, and legendary, Joe Tiller.
On the other hand, it looks as if Purdue finally found someone else's next head coach.
This is how it works in the upper strata of college football, a purely corporate enterprise whose job it is to make the universities it nominally represents rich. Purdue is part of that strata, as a member of the Big Ten. But it's also not part of that strata, because the upper strata is a multi-layered construct in which some schools are higher on the corporate ladder than others.
In the corporate world, this leads to hostile takeovers of kinda-big companies by stupendously big companies. In the college football world, it leads to stupendously big programs regularly raiding the kinda-bigs for their head coaches.
Purdue, alas, is a kinda-big. It's big-time, but not BIG-TIME. And that means it's doomed to spend its days fretting when it picks a guy who drives the program into a tree, and fretting when it picks a guy who lifts up the program enough to land on BIG TIME's radar.
And so even though Brohm hadn't even been in West Lafayette for a year, his name briefly surfaced in relation to higher-profile job openings late this fall. And next year, if he continues on the trajectory everyone at Purdue expects, his name will surface again when other higher-profile jobs come open. Eventually, maybe sooner than later, his name will do more than just surface.
Them's the breaks, folks. And so Boiler Up while you can, Purdue.
Final score: Boilermakers 38, Arizona 35.
Which means Jeff Brohm's first season as Purdue's coach ends with a winning record (7-6) and a bowl victory. He did this, mind you, with the same bunch of sadsacks who went 3-8 a year ago. If you're a Purdue alum or fan, this is wonderful news -- and also the worst news ever.
On the one hand, it looks as if Purdue finally found a suitable successor to the late, and legendary, Joe Tiller.
On the other hand, it looks as if Purdue finally found someone else's next head coach.
This is how it works in the upper strata of college football, a purely corporate enterprise whose job it is to make the universities it nominally represents rich. Purdue is part of that strata, as a member of the Big Ten. But it's also not part of that strata, because the upper strata is a multi-layered construct in which some schools are higher on the corporate ladder than others.
In the corporate world, this leads to hostile takeovers of kinda-big companies by stupendously big companies. In the college football world, it leads to stupendously big programs regularly raiding the kinda-bigs for their head coaches.
Purdue, alas, is a kinda-big. It's big-time, but not BIG-TIME. And that means it's doomed to spend its days fretting when it picks a guy who drives the program into a tree, and fretting when it picks a guy who lifts up the program enough to land on BIG TIME's radar.
And so even though Brohm hadn't even been in West Lafayette for a year, his name briefly surfaced in relation to higher-profile job openings late this fall. And next year, if he continues on the trajectory everyone at Purdue expects, his name will surface again when other higher-profile jobs come open. Eventually, maybe sooner than later, his name will do more than just surface.
Them's the breaks, folks. And so Boiler Up while you can, Purdue.
Wednesday, December 27, 2017
The Ghost of Christmas Past*
*(Revised to reflect the New England Patriots signing of Steelers linebacker/icon-fallen-out-of-favor James Harrison, who apparently got too old for the Black and Gold to treat him right):
Ben Roethlisberger: "Who and what are you?"
Harrison: "I am the Ghost of Helmet-To-Helmet Hits Past.’
Ben Roethlisberger: "Who and what are you?"
Harrison: "I am the Ghost of Helmet-To-Helmet Hits Past.’
Ben Roethlisberger: "Long past?"
Harrison (rolling eyes): "No, you idiot! I just left, for God's sake!
Roethlisberger: "You did?"
Harrison (fuming now): "Yes! Like, I don't know, yesterday! What, you didn't even notice I was gone?"
Roethlisberger: "Hey, man. I got enough to deal with without trying to keep track of every Tom, Dick and James that comes through here."
Harrison: "Every-- what the hell? How long were we teammates, ya big dope?"
Roethlisberger: "OK. You're right. For awhile, I guess. Anyway .. where did you go? And why are you here?"
Harrison: "I went to New England. I'm a Patriot now. And be careful, Patsy Boy. I am here for your reclamation. I'm here to show you all the times the Patriots have owned your black-and-gold ass."
Roethlisberger (bristling): "Yeah? Well, wait'll this year. We'll see."
Harrison: "Yes, we wi-- OK. So I won't. I keep forgetting, that's the Ghost of Helmet-To-Helmet Hit Present's deal. No, I'm here to show you what I said before, and also to show you all the times I lit up unsuspecting quarterbacks when I was a Steeler. That's gonna be you now, Patsy Boy."
Roethlisberger (smirking): "Whatever, dude."
Harrison (rolling his eyes again): "Fine. Don't pay attention to my pictures from the past. Don't watch all those old clips of me blowing guys up in ways that made Roger Goodell want to throw his concussion protocol against the wall and start over again."
(Roethlisberger sighs and looks. Suddenly he sits bolt upright.)
Roethlisberger: "Why, look! It's old Fezziwig, alive again!"
Harrison: "You know how he died, right?"
Roethlisberger (eyes widening); "You mean ..."
(Harrison grins wickedly. Locks his fingers together, cracks his knuckles.)
Harrison: "Thaaaat's right. Reclamate that, baby."
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)