Bump The Babies!

Eh... No one wants to see my inane rantings at the top of the page. Y'all wanna see babies!

And since I know you're all dying to know their names, I'll tell ya.

The one on the left: "Boutros."

The one on the right: "Boutros Boutros."

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It's "How Many Super Bowls Yer Team Won?" Season in Dallas

January in Dallas: Otherwise known as "How Many Super Bowls Yer Team Won?" Season.

As an Eagles fan in the heart of Cow Delirium Country, I hear that question occasionally throughout the year, but never as much as I hear it between weeks 16/17 of the regular season -- when the Cowboys are going to win the Super Bowl, consarnit -- and the Conference Championship weekend -- when the Cowboys are nowhere to be found but on the cover of People Magazine.

It's the Cowboys homer's answer to every question or comment:

- The Cowboys haven't won a playoff game in 13 years now.

How many Super Bowls yer team won?

- This, despite what scouts roundly consider to be the strongest talent base in the entire league. The Cowboys fielded half a team's worth of Pro Bowlers last season, plus the two kicking specialists!

How many Super Bowls yer team won?

- Just off the top of my head, for example, the Eagles have won approximately a dozen playoff games in that time period.

How many Super Bowls yer team won?

- Your team showed an alarming lack of pride and fortitude Sunday in a must-win game. In fact, I would go so far as to say they have absolutely no testicles. Their collective scrotum is filled with naught but hot air.

How many Super Bowls yer team won?

- Does it bother you on any level whatsoever that you seem to care more about the Cowboys than the actual Cowboys care about the Cowboys?

How many Super Bowls yer team won?

- Your quarterback is one year into a $68 million contract extension and, in the last month of each of the past three seasons, has played like he isn't worth a plug nickel.

How many Super Bowls yer team won?

- Your head coach looks like the Pillsbury Doughboy after a trip through the washing machine with a brand new pair of blue jeans and exhibits human vital signs only when the opposing team misses a field goal.

How many Super Bowls yer team won?

- You've already traded a first-round pick and a third-round pick next season for a wide receiver you don't even use. Then you gave him a $50 million extension.

How many Super Bowls yer team won?

- Before his facelift, your team owner used to look like the "tragedy" mask. Now he looks like the "comedy" mask.*

How many Super Bowls yer team won?

- Your raisin-sac quarterback fainted in the shower after Sunday's game like Zsa Zsa Gabor on the way into county lockup.

How many Super Bowls yer team won?

- Your defensive captain actually attacked a Cowboys fan at the team headquarters the day after Sunday's emasculating defeat.

How many Super Bowls yer team won?

- Your son has his driver's license and he can't remember seeing the Cowboys win a playoff game. Other than the senseless proclamations that emerge from your piehole between August and November every season, he's not sure what differentiates the Cowboys from the Arizona Cardinals. In fact, he's wondering whatever happened to Jake Plummer, and whether Jerry Jones might consider bringing him in for next season.

How many Super Bowls yer team won?

Yeah, it's a regular hootenanny in Dallas this time of year. And there will be much gnashing of teeth and rending of garments in the coming months, but come August, the NFL media (a/k/a half the living members of the Ring of Honor) will be predicting another Cowboys rampage through the NFL en route to a Super Bowl championship. And in all likelihood, I'll just copy this post and paste it up again.

*Matty's line. A real winner, no?

Anyway, bring on "Tiberius Jackson" and the Vikings!

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Had Babies, Can't POOOST!

Matt Millen: The Gift That Keeps On Giving

Its been a while since I wrote about Matt Millen. September in fact, right after he finally got his ass canned for taking what was a professional football team and turning them into a giant bucket of shit. Well, Millen may be gone, but the Lions team/bucket of shit he assembled lives on, like how a chicken with its head cut off keeps running around in circles spewing blood guts and shit all over the place before falling down, shaking, and then taking one final projectile diarrhea shit before dying. Sorta sounds like Don Orlovsky.

Much like that chicken, Millen's crowning achievement may come after his (professional) death, as he has assembled a team that has a shot at the worst single season record in pro football history*. Yes, the Tampa Bay Buccaneers of 1976 finished 0-14, but fourteen ain't fifteen. And next week, the Lions have a shot to solidify their own little slice of football immortality against Green Bay at Lambeau Field. In December. At Lambeau Field. In Green Bay. Against the Packers. In Green Bay. BWAAHAHAHAHA!

But I'm getting ahead of myself. Regardless of what happens next week, right now the Lions are 0-15. I'm going to write that one more time and see if you can get your head around it: 0-15. That's fifteen loses in a row with nary a win betwixt.**

Being the worst at something is as difficult to achieve as being the best. If ever a team deserved to have their asses crowned Dennis Green-style as the worst of all time, it would be these Lions.

I hope next week at 1:00pm EST, Matt Millen places his soon-to-be-crowned ass into his barca-lounger at his home in Pittsburgh. I hope he has gathered with him a tub of popcorn, a gallon jug of Old Grandad whiskey and a trash bag large enough to fill with a tubs worth of vomited up popcorn and whiskey. What a shitheel.

Let the ass crowning begin!

*The 1976 Tampa Bay Bucs were 0-14, but since there were only fourteen games in an NFL season at the time, they were unable to lose that fifteenth in a row until 1977. Which they did. In fact, the franchise lost their first 26 games in a row before they managed to beat the New Orleans Saints.
**Sorry, just got a bit of the Olde English there.

DC V Philly Weekend!

This week is apparently Washington vs. Philly week in pro sports. Tonight we've got Lez Bullez (aka the Wizards for those of you who think French bullets are a bad thing) entertaining the Philadelphia 76ers, Saturday Das Capital! comes to Philly to face the Flyers, and then Sunday da Iggles head down to the district to annihilate play the Redskins. It should be an action packed weekend for those of you who are, you know, sports fans. Since I've got nothing else to do, lets run down the games with some predictions! Yay!

76ers at Lez Bullez
Here's what I know about pro basketball: Lez Bullez are horrendous. It almost takes me back to my childhood when they routinely picked top five in the draft. Remember Manute Bol? No? John "Hot Plate" Williams? Well eat this: Mugsey Bogues! Hopefully there's some over-rated piece of garbage coming out in the draft this year.
Pick: Not Lez Bullez

Capitals at Flyers
Oh, its so on. After last year's overtime loss in Game 7 of the first round of the playoffs, its pay back time. Well, not really, that won't officially happen until May, but its not a bad thing to get started early. Ovechkin scores 12 goals, Caps Win!
Pick: Caps

Eagles at Redskins
This is the game that is already sticking in my craw (located just above the sub-cockle, for you doctor-o-philes). After last week's el foldo (literally: the fold) in Cincinnati (literally: land of Italian cinnamon), it appears the Skins have packed it in for the year. True they're out of the playoffs (the Skins need help from everyone, including General Motors), but maybe, somewhere deep down, the Skins can summon some sort of inner strength and beat the damn Eagles because, hell, I gotta live here!
Pick: Eagles, Seventy Bizillion to Negative Eight

Seriously. We're gonna get swept.

"I'm Susan Lucci, Bitch!"

It wasn't my intention to draw attention to the tragicomic goings-on with the Washington Redskins these days -- the other two contributors here at TOOOAST!!! are both $kins fans -- but then I saw this:

Sez London Fletcher-Baker: I'm the Susan Lucci of the NFL!"

Remember: his name is London Fletcher-Baker. The "London" says "porn star," the hyphen says "progressive woman of the 21st century." Ah, what a complex woman... Er, NFL middle linebacker.

But enough of the cheap shots; what the jolly shit is going on with the Redskins? Erstwhile team leader Clinton Portis has had some sharp words for "Zornie," Santana Moss took a 15-yard penalty celebrating with a prop in the end zone when the Redskins were still down 2 TDs to the bottom-feeding Bengals, and now "Fletch" has erupted with some truly pea-brained comments. Sugar, Mr. Poon?

To take this seriously for a sec: Yo, Fletch, no shame in lagging behind Jon Beason and Patrick Willis in Pro Bowl voting -- they're better than you are. So are Barrett Ruud, Brian Urlacher (he's better and more famous than you are, Fletchy-poo, and he still didn't make it), Bradie James, Chedda Plax's boy Antonio Pierce, and... shit, you could make a case for Stewart Bradley. Really, you ought to be thankful you didn't miss out on a trip to Hawai'i (that's how people spell it when they really want to go there) to something called "Stewart Bradley."

More importantly than any of that, Fletch-O-Matic (now I'm writing for the MAD magazine letters page, apparently), you're paid like an All-Pro. In other words, your employer recognizes your value, and yet you still flap your gums because some anonymous arbiters -- who are renowned for their inexplicably senseless decisions year after year -- fail to recognize you?

This whole thing just smells funny -- frankly, it's odd that someone of Fletcher's character would come up with nonsense like this. It's getting difficult to dispute that the edges are fraying at Redskin Park. How many ends does a rope have? However many, that's how many upon which the Redskins' players are pulling.

With the passing of one of the all-time greats, I wonder if the Redskins can get their bid'ness together enough to pay him a fitting tribute against the schizophrenic Eagles this Sunday. We'll see...

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"I'm Stylez G. White, Bitch!"

Step off, Southeast Jerome! Bucs DE Greg White has actually changed his name legally to "Stylez G. White." Why, you ask? Was that his grandfather's name? Is he a big Jeremy Roenick fan?

No sirree Bob. From the AP feed:

"White said it wasn't that he didn't like his own name, but really liked the name of a character in the 1985 movie 'Teen Wolf,' starring Michael J. Fox."

I couldn't remember anything about the character "Styles" from "Teen Wolf," so I looked it up. Styles is this guy:

Fuckin' fantastic! It's the "Dicknose" guy -- I remember him! Man, I hope Stylez G. White wears one of those t-shirts at his next postgame presser.

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Shockingly, Styles' attire didn't carry over from the movie into the animated "Teen Wolf" children's series:

Ah well... Can't win 'em all, dicknose.

But I sure am having fun digging through these "Teen Wolf" images on Google. Recognize this guy, sports movie buffs?

"Hey, it's Enrico Pallazzo!"

Caps Crap, Vol II

The Caps are in first place in the NHL's ultra-lame Southeast Division (hard to top the historic vitriol of a Florida Panthers/Carolina Hurricanes bout, eh?) by eight points over Carolina. Break out the beers! Its playoff time!

But seriously, folks, its mid-December and I say the Caps are just waiting for the playoffs to start. Does that sound over-confident? Maybe it is, but if so, show me the team in the Caps' division who can beat them? [...3 hours passes...] My point! And with the weirdness of the NHL's playoff seeding system guaranteeing them at least the third seed in the conference and (minimally) home ice advantage in the first round of the playoffs almost regardless of how bad they suck from here on out, well... its hard not to look past the next four months.

As far as I'm concerned, the only questions this team needs to answer are, will they be healthy come playoff time, and who will their goalie be... ah-ha! There's the rub. The Caps spent about $9 million (that's $429 million Canadian*) on former Vezina winner Jose Theodore to solve their goal tending, uh, issue this past off season. Theodore, who is injured, is currently helping his team more than he has all season long by avoiding the ice at all costs. In short, Theodore's performance looks like $9 million down the shitter. Fortunately for the Caps, perennial backup Brent Johnson has stepped up and played awesomely** (2.46 GAA and a save percentage of .920 - even I know thems damn good numbers).

There's no certainty that Johnson will keep this up. He might, but he never has before, and in baseball we call it a hot streak while acknowledging that the player is likely to return to his career norms.

Still, if Johnson keeps doing what he's been doing this Caps team will be tough to beat. If not, which is the more likely scenario, well, it doesn't even matter. They're just going to coast into the playoffs as the number three seed anyway.

Its good to be in the Southeast Division, eh? See you bitches in April!

*Now, thanks to the magic of deflation, Canadian-Money-Is-Worthless jokes are back! Yay!
**Is "awesomely" a word?

Free Agent Frenzy! (Phillies And Yankees Edition)

With the Redskins exploding like the Hindenburg against Cincinnati, I've been focusing on baseball and hockey this week. The Caps are playing pretty well (only first place team in DC), but BMFS and Snizza have hockey pretty well covered around these here parts, so I thought I'd come correct with some baseball free agency news/comments/poop jokes. Because what is baseball's free agency period without poop jokes? Lets dive right in, shall we?

C.C. Sabathia, NY Yankees - After lots of speculation, over-speculation, hand-wringing, passing of love notes, late night plane flights to and from San Francisco and, of course, the always required bidding against yourself, Yankees GM Brian Cashman finally got his man. He signed Sabathia, the best pitcher on the free agent market and one of the top ten starters in baseball to a huge contract. The media is reporting this as a 7 year, $161 million deal, but the opt-out after year three makes it essentially a three year, $69 million contract with a player option for an additional four years and $92 million. Giving seven years to any pitcher is very risky simply because most pitchers get injured eventually. Giving seven years to this pitcher is slightly less risky because he has no history of arm or shoulder problems (these tend to reoccur) and without getting all sabrmetric on yo' ass, Sabathia strikes lots of people out, doesn't walk people, and keeps whatever contact he gives up in the park by forcing hitters to hit the ball on the ground (hard to hit homers without hitting the ball in the air). These are all valuable aspects of any pitcher and finding all of them in one pitcher with little to no injury history is difficult to do. The Yankees had the money and with the retirement of Mike Mussina and the potential loss of Andy Pettitte, they had the need. Good signing.

A.J. Burnett, NY Yankees - For all the reasons that Sabathia is a good signing (excellent pitcher, little injury history), Burnett is not. That's not to say Burnett isn't a good pitcher, because he is, though he's not as good as Sabathia is, but when you give a guy a five year, $86 million contract, you pretty much want him to be very good with as few questions about his health and quality as possible. Burnett comes with many questions. He's a good pitcher when healthy, but he is often not healthy. He has been on the disabled list many times in his career (I'm too lazy to look it up but its about once a year), and only twice in his career has he pitched 200 innings in a season. Coincidentally or not both those years were the season before his contract expired. For those scoring at home, Burnett's contract does not expire for another five years. The Yankees can expect above average pitching most of the time with a number of DL stints. Its hard to argue that this is money well spent.

Jamie Moyer, Philadelphia Phillies - Moyer is old. O-L-D-E old. He will be 47 years old when his new 2 year contract is completed. This strikes me as a particularly bone-headed signing. The best case scenario is that Moyer replicates last season's accomplishments, but again without getting all sabermetric, that's not likely. The Phillies miraculously got two decent seasons out of Moyer and he was part of a World Champion. That's pretty good. As unlikely as that was to happen, repeating as World Champs with Moyer in the rotation is even more likely. This will end badly.

Raul Ibanez, Philadelphia Phillies - The player Ibanez will replace in left field for the Phillies, Pat Burrell, got on base and hit for power while striking out a lot and playing a pretty horrendous left field. Ibanez is likely to accomplish two out of those four. Its not that Ibanez is a bad player, because he isn't. He won't hit for the power that Burrell did, he won't get on base as much as Burrell did, he's almost as horrendous a fielder as Burrell is, and he's going to be 37 years old next season. Again, its not that Ibanez is a bad player, but he isn't who the Phillies are paying him to be.

More to come if I feel like it.

"Yur Doin A Heckova Job, Zornie"

I did not see the beginning of the Redskins loss to Cincinnati, nor did I see the end of it. But I saw enough to know that this was the team's worst loss since Norv Turner's milquetoasty reign of terror effectively cut any ties to Joe Gibbs well coached team-of-the-decade '80's Redskins. It was the kind of loss that makes you reassess the quality of every player, every coach, and every member of the front office. A team with playoff aspirations went to Cincinnati and lost to a 1-11 (and 1) team. Maybe we could live with that. Maybe. But this team got out-played, out-coached and out-worked. Vastly. And that we can't live with.

So, fire Jim Zorn? Cut Jason Campbell? Fire Vinny Cerotto? Maybe... Maybe these are over-reactions following a painful and season-ending loss. Great teams aren't born over night, they take time and talent, and this new regime hasn't had either.

Still its hard to look past the fact that the problems this team entered the season with have only been added to, worsened, and further brought to the fore. No player has stepped up on offense to help address the Redskins lack of receiving depth and no coach has yet devised a plan to cover it up. Its difficult to evaluate any quarterback who is constantly running for his life, but even when Jason Campbell has time he often misses open receivers with bad throws or simply doesn't see them.

In short, everything that went so right in the early season wins in Dallas and Philly has completely backfired. Everything the team did well in going 6-2 to start the season, they've done horrendously in going 1-5 to close it. And it all culminated in a giant holiday turd sandwich delivered to all Redskins fans on Sunday. Mmm... Yummy.

So, fire Jim Zorn? Cut Jason Campbell? Fire Vinny Cerotto? Maybe...Then again, does it really matter? When you think about it, all we've got left in Redskinfanland is six months of questions with no right answers.

The NutzBus Is Back on the Road (or: The Tom Wandell Era Begins)

In a shocking turn of events, the seemingly hopeless Dallas Stars scored a victory tonight over the visiting Detroit Red Wings, carried by two quick tallies by Swedes Fabian Brunnstrom and Tom Wandell. (Yes, Tom Wandell is Swedish. We checked.)

Missing disfigured defensive stalwart Stephane Robidas with a broken jaw -- Seriously, can this poor guy sustain an injury that doesn't mangle his face for once? -- recently repatriated Darryl Sydor paired with regressing second-year man Matt Niskanen in a strong performance to lead the Stars' defense, which, despite yielding a whopping 38 shots, didn't lose track of players around the net like they so often have this season.

The Stars were outshot 14-3 in the third period despite no penalty kills, making this look like a "300 on Ice Game,"* but the Stars actually did play their best team defensive game of the season, and Marty Turco was positionally sound throughout. Indeed Dallas caught a couple of breaks -- most notably Johan Franzen missing the net on a backhander when he had plenty of daylight to hit -- but the performance was solid enough to merit a win.

*Color commentator Daryl Reaugh actually referenced the movie "300" during the third period of the broadcast tonight, so we felt compelled to mention the concept of the "300 on Ice Game," which Snizza and I made up a couple years ago during a game in which the Stars were brutally outplayed by San Jose but still won. Let it be known, though, that we'd be honored if Razor thought of something we thought of first. He's the best color guy in the NHL by at least the length of Visanthe Shiancoe's wang.

Ah, but what about the cashmere-clad elephant in the room? Some relevant wads-o'-grist emerged from the ol' mill today:

It's been substantiated that the New York Rangers are putting on the full-court press in their efforts to sign Mats Sundin, but they lack the salary cap space to pull this off. So they've gotta make room. Two paths to this end have been suggested (but, notably, not widely corroborated):

The first is that the Rangers will trade Chris Drury to Montreal. Sundin would presumably displace the underachieving Drury from the Rangers' top three lines, and with the continued production of Brandon Dubinsky (or emergence of Lauri Korpikoski) and the acclimation of Scott Gomez, the Rangers' strength up the middle would still be formidable. Montreal, meanwhile, is looking for help up front, as evidenced by their pursuit of Sundin (and their bewilderingly terrible power play).

The second is that the Rangers will trade defenseman Michal Rozsival (salary: $5M) to the Stars for Sean Avery, then stash him in Hartford of the AHL.

Well... How 'bout the Rangers do both? Drury was reported to be the loudest in-house voice opposing the Rangers re-signing Avery this past off-season, and the Rangers clearly lack the "jam" they showed with Avery in uniform last season. (Seriously, find a Rangers fan and ask him what's wrong with the Rangers this year.) And unlike the Stars' players, at least the Rangers' players have proven they can co-exist with Avery.

So here's a nickel's worth of free advice to Glen Sather: sign Sundin, ship Drury to Montreal for prospects and picks, wait for Avery to clear re-entry waivers in Dallas, then trade Snizza's boy Rozsival here for Avery.

Not only might the Rangers actually be able to keep Avery in Manhattan rather than shipping him to Hartford -- after all, Drury will be gone -- but they'll be about $3M under the cap after assuming only half of Avery's contract when he's cleared waivers twice. With the savings, they can bring back Brendan Shanahan to help fix their busted-ass power play (and nix the possibility of him landing with the rival Flyers).

Alas, I see a light at the end of the NutzBus.

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As the Suns Turn...

Steve Kerr is officially a fantasy basketball GM. He may not realize it, but the goal of the game is to assemble a team in which the pieces fit together in a way that allows them to best compliment each others skills, and top that by hiring a coach that can best utilize these cogs, not to stare at your roster on paper and think to yourself, "Damn. I think they could all get 25 points tonight!"

It's arguable that the Phoenix Suns of 2004-2007 were one of the most geniusely assembled rosters we've seen in decades. The players all had a defined role and enabled Mike D'Antoni and Steve Nash to hit the gas as though they were driving a brand new Bugatti. Granted, they were limited by their style of play in terms of being able get past the Spurs in the playoffs and injuries derailed them against the Mavs in 2006, but they were unquestionably a team with one of the most concrete identities in the league. They ran their asses off, let shots fly from all directions, and paid just enough attention to defense to win an average of 58 games over the past 4 seasons.

That is all gone now. As they take the court agianst the Lakers tonight, they will only have three players on their team from their "Seven Seconds or Less" days: Steve Nash, Leandro Barbosa and Amare Stoudemire. With today's trade for Jason Richardson, the Suns gave up the only two guys on their roster that didn't demand the ball, Boris Diaw and Raja Bell, as well as their lone remaining player with any grit who even knew how to spell "defense" in Bell.

It is now a squad featuring a gaggle of incredibly ill-fitting parts. Nash is still a run-first point guard, but Terry Porter wants them to play more traditionally. Shaq demands the ball down low and clogs the lane, while Amare is in his prime and has obvious designs on being The Man. Not only that, but one of Stoudemire's primary advantages over the years has been the fact that, without using a conventional center, opposing 5's had to try and stick Black Jesus, and he tore them up with his athleticism and versatility. With Shaq on the floor, Amare is covered by quicker players, is forced to guard better offensive players who routinely light him up and with Shaq parked in the lane so much, STAT now relies on 17 foot jumpers.

As for the rest of the team, Grant Hill is barely a shadow of his former self. Matt Barnes is a nut who thinks he's the primary offensive option and shoots with impunity. There is no backup point guard for an aging-before-our-eyes Nash. And now they add another alpha male in Jason Richardson, who is averaging nearly 20 points a game this year, but doesn't help them play "more traditionally" in any way. J-Rich would've been perfect for this team 3 years ago, but now? All I see is Amare, Shaq, Richardson and Barnes/Barbosa yelling at Nash that they're open and fighting for the ball. And not ONE of them can play any defense.

On paper, J-Rich is the best player in the trade by a mile, but the Suns didn't need another big name offensive star. However, if you're gonna play loose and wild with trades and throw shit against the wall, this is the year to do it as the Lakers have clearly distanced themselves from everybody else in the Western conference and Phoenix wasn't going anywhere anyway.

Like, Wow! Total Shocker!

Weeeeell, that wasn't predictable, was it? Nooooooo! Not at all. Who could have foreseen C.C. Sabathia, the best pitcher on the free agent market, signing with the New York Yankees for $750 Billion*? Certainly not me. No way! I would never have guessed that. Not in a million years. The most expensive free agent signing with the Yankees? So strange! I'm wracking my brain, but I just can't recall another example of the Yankees spending lots of money on a free agent! So weird! And for the largest contract ever given to a pitcher in the history of baseball! The Yankees just don't set spending records like this!

Well, at least we know that this will work out well for them. I mean, how can it not? Sabathia is a great, great, super great, Hall-of-Fame-if-he-retires-yesterday pitcher who will certainly win all of his starts for the Yankees. In fact, just seeing Sabathia on the mound for New York will almost certainly cause the opposing team to collectively make pee-pee in their uniform pants! I'm making pee-pee in my uniform pants now just thinking about it!

And, to top it all off, he's never been injured before, so theres no way he'll get injured in the future! So the Yankees, normally the picture of fiscal sanity have actually agreed to spend some of their money on a pitcher who's very presence basically guarantees them seven World Series trophies in the next six seasons! So awesome for them!

So, serious congratulations to Yankee fans everywhere, from us at TOOOAST! Its going to be really awesome when Sabathia blows out his elbow and his forearm goes flying across the field wins the World Series for the Yankees! Good times!

*This figure is unconfirmed.

Yes We Can!

As I drifted off to sleep last night, the victorious words of our future president echoed through my brain: "Yes we can!"

On this Tuesday night, as on Election Day, I got to celebrate a rare type of event: the Dallas Mavericks and Dallas Stars won a game on the same night!

In the past, both teams have been fairly strong and a Dallas Daily Double was a common occurrence, but now, with both teams fighting for the collective ambivalence of the North Texas sports fan, such a feat is as common the discovery of a new solar system. In fact, last night, December 2, 2008, was the FIRST time it has happened in the current season.

All together now..."We suuuuck!"

And it took a convergence of two monumental events:

1. The massive shit fountain that is Sean Avery's mouth had to finally go too far by calling his former girlfriend "sloppy seconds." It was a move that clearly shows that his Chronic Douchedom has reached such malignancy that Gary Bettman dragooned him to an ice fishing shack on a remote Manitoba lake where he will be stripped naked and forced to have intercourse with an obese sex doll that looks like Martin Brodeur. The rest of the Stars, obviously relieved that Fucktard was gone and to show management that they play better without Fucktard, went on to play like the Stars of old and beat the red hot Flames*.

2. A short, white Puerto Rican point guard's appearance on the court so thoroughly confused Baron "Teen Wolf Boom Dizzle B-Diddy" Davis that said player actually scored 15 points and hit the game-winning three-pointer, while Davis proceeded to launch the most retarded 30-foot jumper, at the buzzer, after a time out, ever witnessed at an NBA game. The gritty, inspired and heady play** of J.J. Barea led the way, and The Little Mavs That Could actually huffed and puffed their way to an improbable fourth quarter comeback at home against the Clippers. (Yes, things really have fallen THAT far.)

Unexplained phenomena like these would even get Art Bell's panties in a wad - and that's what it took for the Mavericks and Stars to relish the sweet taste of victory on one glorious eve.

May I live to see another night like this...

*The NHL mandates that you can not mention the Calgary Flames without at least one "fire"-ish adjective.

**The Sports Bloggers Association of America mandates that all descriptions of white point guards must include at least 3 of the following adjectives: gritty, heady, inspired, coach-like, cerebral, throwback, un-athletic, tough as nails, old fashioned, fundamental, solid, proper, non-flashy, steady, unceremonious, against-all-odds, feisty, dogged, or whodathunk.

New Rules: NHL Edition

New Rule: No player shall intimate he has had sexual relations with an opposing player's girlfriend.

The NHL has actually suspended the league's squeakiest wheel, Sean Avery, for referring to an unnamed player (obviously Dion Phaneuf) "fall[ing] in love with my sloppy seconds."

Obviously, Avery is a shitheel, but is this really a suspendable offense? There is no way any other player would have been suspended for such an "incident"; of course, it's doubtful that any other player would have made these comments.

In the aftermath of the suspension, Stars owner Tom Hicks decried Avery's comments and stated that, had the league not suspended Avery, the team would have. Also, media reports in Calgary are currently suggesting that Avery's thus-far-disastrous tenure with the Stars is already over after 23 miserable games.

(What the jolly fuck are they going to do with him? He's on a four-year, $15.5M contract with a full no-movement clause! As we warned, brilliant idea there by the commander of the NutzBus. I really hope Hull explicity staked his employment on the Avery signing, 'cause he's already earned a ticket to the soup line.)

If indeed the Stars players don't much like having Avery as a teammate, tonight's game in Calgary will be telling. I wouldn't discount the idea that we'll see a much higher "compete level" from the Stars tonight than we've seen thus far this season.* That might send a message to the front office.

*Yes, it would be virtually impossible for them to show less competitive fire than they've been showing, but maybe we'll see an obvious inprovement.


Regardless of how justified this suspension may be, with just a couple of strokes of a pen, this is what your Dallas Stars have become -- one guy committing various public acts of douchery while 19 other guys stand around rolling their eyes.

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