Ruminations 15.0

The foreman at the local construction site hired a Newfoundlander to be in charge of supplies. Friday, before closing down, the foreman searched everywhere for the Newfie and the shipment of finishing nails they had ordered.

He searched high and low to no avail, only to arrive home and find a massive box sitting sealed in his foyer.

The foreman approached the box, only to be completely floored as the Newfie leapt from within the box, screaming "Surprise".

Often, things are lost in translation, and where one person may find humour, another person may not. Which reminds me;

Anyways, busy day today, but before I go I just wanted to impart some nuggets of wisdom for my people.

1) The Raptors are leading the NBA in first-quarter production and scoring. Considering how rubbish the team is, at first glance, this may appear a positive statistic measure of a sub-par squad.

Think again - The Raps are so shit that opposing teams don't lace their kicks until the second quarter. Patience is a virtue, and the league's other 29 teams are well aware of this.

2) Sunday's loss by Arsenal in the Carling Cup Final against lowly bottom-dwellers Birmingham City really took the wind out of my sails. Today, more than 24 hours after the ref blew the final whistle, I'm still left gutted by the result.

3) I overreacted about the whole Kendrick Perkins thing Friday. I went back and looked at some stats from 2008 when the Celtics won the championship, and Perk played only 18 minutes per.

He's a physically imposing character, but as a free agent at the end of this season, rumours had it he was looking for a contract somewhere in the range of 9 million a year. Once again, it seems in hindsight that Celtics GM and former Toronto Blue Jay Danny Ainge has made a brilliant move.

4) Finally - the other day, while sitting at the local Starbucks enjoying a cup, "Take My Breath Away" came on the digital satellite music service. After vomiting my Captain Crunch into the remains of my Caramel Macchiato, I came to the conclusion that the song is not about love and the effects it has on a woman, but on respiratory illnesses and the thousands of Canadians who experience such difficulties annually.

It had me thinking about weak-ass tunes and their ulterior meanings, such as Celine Dion's "My Heart Will Go On" and the preachy angle it takes towards promoting the cryogenic freezing of the heart.

Tomorrow, Scotty flies out to Kiev, Ukraine to work for a year. Let's all wish him a safe flight and a splendid time acclimatizing himself to the country. We'll miss ya bruh.

Where Amazing Happens Sometimes: Trade Deadline (Peace Kendrick)

With the close of Wednesday's NBA trading deadline came a list of moves typically made by teams looking to stock-up for the playoff run and by those hoping to shed some dead-weight and provide financial stability for future seasons.

The league is a business, and sometimes it's easy to forget this.

Regardless of how much you love a player, he's simply a part of a whole, and a team, as a sum of its parts, is but a viable business plan in place to turn a profit. On the court winning is all that matters, and in the boardroom, winning is essential for meeting the bottom line.

Sure, there are more important issues today - but I don't really give a fuck - I wish the Celtics didn't have to trade Kendrick Perkins. I've followed his career path from an at-risk straight-out-of high school prospect to a fundamental piece of the Celtics success. Watching him play for the Celtics and witnessing the comaradorie shared by with his teammates offered but a glimpse of the family they had become.

When asked about the trade last night following Boston's loss to Denver, coach Doc Rivers had this to say; "I told them before the game, someone told me, 'Well, it's not personal.' I said, 'No, it's very personal.' Perk is a family member. He's more than just a player for us, and when you lose a family member like that, it hurts. It's emotional, and that's how the guys are. They understand the trade and all that stuff, but that still doesn't mean it's not emotional for you."

His loss leaves some questions about depth at the center position, with hopes that Shaq's aging knees and new acquisition Nenad Krstic can carry the load left by Perk. They've remedied an apparent weakness at perimeter defense by getting 24-year old stud Jeff Green back from Oklahoma City in the Perkins trade that also sent Nate Robinson packing, but I'm left nonetheless with a sour taste in my mouth.

These guys really were a family, and as a fan, I feels like a periphery member, a satellite cousin brought together by the luxury of digital cable.

ESPN's Bill Simmons covered the trade deadline in his column this morning at ESPN.com. He's an unabashed fan of all things Boston, and like many of the Celtics players, he loves Kendrick Perkins like family. Say what you will about Simmons and his penchant for writing as if it was recorded verbatim and transcribed, but in this case, the man perfectly conveys the feelings I have today. The last few paragraphs of his column hit the nail on the head;

You might remember LeBron and Carmelo getting excoriated for stabbing their respective teams in the back. You want to know why they didn't care? Because, deep down, they know that teams don't care about players, either. They probably witnessed 20 variations of the Perkins trade during their first few years in the league. Hey, it's a business. Hey, that's just sports. Hey, trades come with the territory. Isn't loyalty a two-way street? When a team does what's best for itself, we call it smart. When a player does the same, we call him selfish. We never think about what a double standard it is.

I thought Perk deserved better than getting blindsided in Denver, then having to limp around with a sprained knee and pack his stuff with tears rolling down his face. Maybe I'm a sap. But that was our guy. Family. On the phone, my dad decided -- completely seriously -- that he would rather have lost the 2011 title with Perkins than have tried to win it without him. Why?

"Because he was truly part of our team," Dad said. "I don't want to root for laundry. I watched that guy for eight years. That should mean something. Continuity should mean something."

Within a few weeks, both of us will have talked ourselves into the Jeff Green era. That's what fans do. We take the hits, shake them off, keep coming back. The Celtics will morph into something slightly different: a little more athletic, a little more flexible, a little younger and, hopefully, almost as tough. Perkins will fly to Oklahoma City, live out of a hotel room, make new friends and try to help Durant and Russell Westbrook make the Finals. Maybe the Celtics will see him there. It won't feel weird at all, because that's the way professional sports work. We are rooting for laundry. Whether we want to admit it or not.

Malcolm Gladwell - New Yorker NFL Concussion Piece

As per the bit about Dave Duerson below, famed auteur Malcolm Gladwell wrote a piece for New Yorker magazine in October of 2009.

The article opened my eyes, as well as I'm sure many others, to the consequences and long-term residual effects of playing contact sports. I could have attached it with the piece below, but stand alone, it is truly a wonderful article that goes to great lengths to educate.

Offensive Play - Malcolm Gladwell New Yorker Magazine

Dave Duerson R.I.P.

Greetings. I know this site has been a little short in the laughs department lately, but as an online extension of myself, slightly veiled by what anonymity the internet can provide - how I'm feeling at the moment is usually translated onto the page.

Last week, ex Chicago Bear and Notre Dame alumnus Dave Duerson killed himself. He had agreed to donate his brain to concussion-related research before taking his own life.

Typically, I resent suicide, its cowardly nature and the negative consequences reaped by family members left feeling guilty or responsible. Duerson's death will not only shed light into the hazards of playing contact sports, but with clinical depression and the fact that many friends, family members and colleagues deal with similar forms of depression that go unnoticed.

Three months before he killed himself, Dave Duerson was interviewed by a wonderful journalist named Rob Trucks. Please follow the link below and read the brief story of a man whose life should be heralded for his successes, and whose death should be noted as a means of educating others.


"You Have To Accept My Pain" An Interview With Dave Duerson


Rest in Peace Mr. Duerson, may something be learned from your suffering.



Ed. Note;

For more information about studies being performed on the brains of ex-football players with a specific reference to Mr. Duerson's case, the following link goes into great detail without becoming bogged-down in medical lingo.

What Scientists Will Look For In Brain Of NFL Star Who Killed Himself

Kudos to the NFL for taking the bull by the horns and dealing with the concussion issue by involving the Boston University Centre for the Study of Encephalopathy. For more information the following link from ESPN.com goes into great detail concerning the initiative being taken by the NFL.

NFL Partnering with BU Study

Book Of The Week: Haruki Murakami's "What I Talk About When I Talk About Running"

I was given this memoir a few Christmas' ago by my parents with a note written on the title page. It read 'Never Give Up on Yourself or Your Dreams'. A more fitting comment could not have been added to the pages of this brilliant work by acclaimed Japanese author Haruki Murakami.

As a gifted writer and translator, Murakami has been responsible for several award-winning works of fiction including The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle and 2005's Kafka By The Shore, as well as dozens of short story compilations.

What I Talk About When I Talk About Running is Murakami's memoir of his experiences in training for the New York City Marathon. It is a beautiful and visceral depiction of one man's motivation and will to overcome the obstacles placed in the way by conditions such as age and fatigue. It is memoir, yet at the same time an instructional guide. A guide to never relenting on your dreams and the acknowledgement of mind over body. His penchant for description is as concise and as acute as is in his fictional works, but this time with a pinch of humour unseen in his previous works.

The title is a play on Raymond Carver's acclaimed collection of short stories What We Talk About When We Talk About Love.

I have read Murakami's memoir four times, with each time fueling my fire to succeed more so than the time before.

It is not my intention to sound-off as per the soap box this site provides, but Haruki Murakami's guidance applies to all and discriminates not in its lesson; the mind is truly exponentially more powerful than the body and the pursuit of completing the arduous task of running 26.2 miles is a metaphor for life's other obstacles.

The guardedly private Japanese writer opens-up not only about the struggles to train for a marathon, but also the challenges that writers face. This book could not speak to me in a clearer and more poignant voice than it does. Despite the fact that many of you may not be a writer like myself, or even a runner as I used to be, and am currently struggling to retain that same form, this memoir appeals to anyone that feels challenged to achieve in life what you desire.

Things I've Learned From Footy

On Tuesday, Tottenham Hotspur kicked-off the round of 16 Champions League matches with a strong 1-0 victory against Italian league leaders AC Milan at the famed San Siro stadium.

The Spurs fielded a team filled with many a 2nd choice and also-ran, only to break the Rossoneri on the counter-attack with Aaron Lennon's blistering pace on the wing and a clinical finish from the giraffe-like Peter Crouch for a pivotal away goal in the 1st leg of a two-leg aggregate-based round.

The North London side was stubborn, finished every tackle and did a great deal to annoy the opposition. Rossoneri midfielder Gennaro Gattuso, known for his punishing tactics and his bull-in-a-china-shop grace on the pitch, was annoyed to the point of head butting Spurs assistant Joe Jordan on the pitch line at the match's conclusion.

Classy guy to say the least. His inability to control his anger was acceptable 5 years ago, as in his prime, he played a major role in Italy's World Cup win by cementing the Azzuri midfield.

Gattuso wasn't the only Milan player whose emotions raged that night. Tempers flared for many a Rossoneri following several hard tackles and the cancellation of Swede striker Zlatan Ibrahimovic's 90th minute equalizer because of a foul in the box against Hotspur centre-back Michael Dawson. It was a legit foul call, keeping in mind there are few things I despise more than Tottenham, including many a terminal illness.

Needless to say, the Italians were very emotive, more so than usual, which says a great deal about a people who rarely shy from the opportunity to express themselves, whether it be by means of language, gestures or facial expressions. This is not a generalization, but merely an observance based on watching loads of Italian football, attending a private boys high school made-up of predominantly Italians and spending time in Europe amidst many an Azzuri.

Regardless of the root or reason for such expressions, Italian footballers tend to be a microcosm of the people, rarely shying from the opportunity to plead there case with an official, hands outstretched, palms facing up to display a host of emotions.

Speaking Italian is not just about the words, but about the hand gestures and facial expressions that go along with it. It's been said that having a phone conversation with a native Sicilian can be an exercise in patience, while an Italian with a broken hand is considered to have a speech impediment.

I thoroughly enjoy such displays of emotion and thank football every day for allowing outsiders to peer-into a world where cultures are on full display, where individuals stand-out for their performances, yet regardless of ethnicity or creed, great teams are made of 11 different people joined in the commonality of winning.


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On another note, it must feel like shit being a Tottenham supporter.

Your bid for the Olympic Stadium in London was foiled by West Ham's more practical application, your club is in great form in the Premier League, only to sit in 4th and stare eyes-wide up the table at rivals Arsenal who sit in 2nd, and adding insult to injury, the day after defeating Italian leaders AC Milan, Arsenal outshines your performance by dismantling Barcelona at its on game, the team arguably considered the World's Best, EVER. Fucking Spurs.

Advice For Men: Valentines Day

Okay boys, this one’s for you. Since today’s Valentines Day, and it’s been quite a while since I last imparted some wisdom upon the throngs of followers of this site, I thought why not share some advice with my male readers. I’m certain the women who read this site will enjoy it as well.

Regardless of how much you care about today or how much your significant other may or may not, today matters to women. They may say otherwise and act with an air of nonchalance concerning the day, but if your girlfriend/fiancée/wife has a vagina, today matters to her. If she does not have one, or you are having difficulty finding it, there are other sites on the internet that may be able to help.

In hopes of helping others, I’ve compiled a list of simple, cost-effective things that a man can do to show his appreciation on this special day.

1) How about a little manscaping? Can’t see the forest for the trees? Grab a pair of shears, preferably the follicular variety and not the pruning type, and go to town on your junk. If it looks like you have ‘In Living Colour” era Marlon Wayans in a headlock between your thighs, be careful, there’s a penis in lurking about in there. I have no such problem, but word has it that a little trimming around the shaft can give the impression of increased length. Give it a shot, what’s the worst that can happen.

Personally, I’m a fan of the Charlie Villanueva look. Try it yourselves if you have the cahones necessary for the job. If you are not as fair-skinned as I am, perhaps you have some Mediterranean blood in you and once you start shaving your junk the transition to the mohair sweater growing on your thighs creates a disparity of sorts that resembles a sand-blasting of the family jewels, fear not. Do as I do, wear ridiculously narrow and slim-fitting pants and before you know it all your leg hair will join your floor-littered pubes on the unemployment line.

Remember this is for the ladies. You think she enjoys busting-out the Venus on her box for you weekly? Worst yet, the sheer empirical value of a Brazilian outdoes any discomfort we could experience down there, so make the sacrifice and clean up the bloody pig sty you call your dick.

2) Buy your woman flowers. Even if she doesn’t love flowers, she will. Perhaps she has a little bleeding heart feminist screaming at her from within the dark chasm she calls a conscience telling her to shun the modern conventions of female gift-giving/problem fixing. If so, she’ll still love some flowers on Valentines Day.

At worst, even the most deadbeat of boyfriends should buy his girl some flowers. Have them wrapped by the florist in a simple, one-colour wrapping paper if you are to present it to your lady in this form, if not, purchase a non-descript vase for the bouquet. The vase should not take away from the flowers and their aesthetic value, however it should be of such a height that the mouth of the vase is three-quarters of the way up the stems.

What type you ask? Well, roses are generally can’t fail, but there’s little to no effort in buying a dozen roses. It’s been done. Furthermore, each coloured rose represents a different theme. If you are madly in love with your significant other and you opt for yellow roses, you suck buddy.

With the onset of spring in the coming months, why not a collection of lilies? Women love them some callow lilies and if you look closely you’ll notice the flowers resemble a very meaty vagina, which may or may not be your thing.
I’m a fan of Peonies, but their lack of girth and presentation may not be the most romantic effort. I say a shitload of various lilies with some baby’s breath and other fillers for volume will result in at worst a handjob.

Attach with the flowers a brief, concise note expressing your love. Don’t use the ghetto-ass stationary at the florists. Women love expensive stationary, so I suggest purchasing a small piece of matte board or something from Papyrus (also available at Indigo) and placing it with the flowers. Fuck an envelope. Be honest and use your own words. If you have a penchant for poor grammar and sentence fragments, veer not away from your tendencies. Be as genuine as you can boys.

3) Buy her something she’ll love, regardless of how unpractical it may be. She knows you want to fuck tonight. She might as well, but probably not as much as you do, even with the new shapely redesign of your reproductive area.

Buy nothing that so much as suggests you want that pussy tonight, save that for a rainy day. Don’t buy lingerie, sex toys, 2-in-1 warming creams or porn. Buy your woman lingerie on a random Tuesday when she feels fat, not on Valentines Day.

Maybe that Sex in the City 2 DVD she’s been bugging you about or the newest piece-of-shit book on Oprah’s booklist (minus the J. Safron Foer – that’s my boy). If she loves that ridiculously over-priced artisinal popcorn in a vintage tin from Williams & Sonoma, buy it and do yourselves a favour, don’t even look at the bloody price. Get her something she will love, even if it is something you won’t. Relationships are all about compromise and she will invariably be turned-on receiving something she’s certain made you cringe at the check-out.

Good luck boys. Using the aforementioned tips, I’m encouraged that you will all be a huge success tonight, ensuring at least one night of sanity in your relationships. Don’t forget, you’re starting to look like shit too what with the expanding waistline worthy of elasticated maternity pants and the hairline receding at a quicker pace than the dissipation of the polar ice caps.

Remember, tonight she comes first. There is obviously a double entendre in there for you – figure it out.

I Told You So - Toronto's Raccoons

In criticizing the Toronto Star, I must also identify what is good about the paper, and since I read it each morning while warming my brain in order to read the Globe & Mail, I sometimes stumble upon some worthwhile items.

Recall a few months back my observance that the city's raccoon population was adapting to circumstances by evolving into smarter creatures? Well, apparently I was not the only one, and a documentary has been made to investigate the claims your favorite blogger witnessed on many a drunken night's stumble home. Today's Star has a small feature on the phenomenon.

Documentary Reveals The Secret Lives of Raccoons

Another bright light amongst a steaming pile of carnivorous excretions of note is the Star's coverage of the crisis in Egypt. Yes, every news outlet on the globe is covering it to great lengths, but the Star has begun a series of pieces identifying points of dissent and issues facing many other North African nations. Today's item on Morocco and the culture of a tyrannical monarchy is a worthwhile read.

Finally, congratulations to Egypt. At the time of publication (11:00AM), news has broken that Mubarak has finally agreed to step-down contrary to motions he made in yesterday's speech. Only one thing would have quelled the frustrations of the Egyptian people, and this is it. Following decades of smothering regimes led by the likes of Anwar Sadat and Mubarak, the freedom and happiness shared by many Egyptians today is a feeling unlike any that we privileged westerners could comprehend.

Ruminations 14.0

Arsenal's 4-4 draw with Newcastle Saturday was one of the worst experiences of my Gunners fandom. Being accustomed to a squad that typically finishes with the fervor of a Levitra-spiked old man having his way with an inflatable partner, even Saturday's result seemed unusual.

With Manchester United losing later that day to Wolves, breaking their unbeaten streak at 29 matches, Arsenal had a brilliant opportunity to close the gap at the top of the table to two points behind Sir Alex and his band of merry d-bags.

Having gone-up 4 goals after only 26 minutes, the result seemed to be set in stone. A bad red card and an unbelievably poor penalty call in the box amidst some stagnant defensive tactics equaled 4 goals for the Geordies from Newcastle and left many a Gooner with mouths agape.

Fear not, Gunners supporters and Man U haters alike have much to be thankful for, as the EPL schedule makers have United playing both City and Chelsea in the coming days. Let's hope both results bring with them losses and compound fractures to the likes of Shrek Rooney and Dimitar Berbatov.


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On a lighter note, and by lighter I mean that in a hyperbolic sense, not literal by any means, I've recently put a few quid in a local 'Death Pool' to see if I could fatten my pockets at the expense of others. Always a fan of the utmost sense of Shadenfreude, I see no harm in profiting from other people's deaths much in the same way the U.S. has through their questionable foreign policies and the raping of the Middle East.

Joining Hugh Hefner at the apex of my Death Pool selections is that fat fuck Adam Richman from OLN's Man Vs. Food. With each episode, the portly Jewish man continues to expand horizontally while his hairline recedes like the spring tides of Georgian Bay. Using only empirical evidence, if somebody ages with each episode as if it was in intervals of 5-years, they are probably living on borrowed time.

Having said that, later this month I will be visiting my sister at school in Cleveland, where an entire episode of Man Vs. Food was filmed, and I plan on shaving a few years of my life by consuming trans fats as if they're going out of style.

Star Writes Something Complimentary About Cops - Quota Met.

Readers of the site will recall my displeasure with the stance taken by the Toronto Star concerning the criticisms of police during the G20 Summit. The Star took every opportunity to berate the police for their conduct during the week-long meeting downtown, and continued the trivial witch hunt by making the post-Summit complaints filed by protesters front-page news.

It seems the Toronto Star has taken a stance against the police, where articles lambasting them far outweigh those that highlight what good they do.

Much to my surprise, the paper yesterday published a story identifying a Toronto officer and his Good Samaritan acts. Perhaps the Star has a annual quota for positive articles concerning the police, which was met yesterday in one felt swoop.

Even when being seemingly positive, The Star takes a jab at police with an insult hidden within the title of the piece. Enjoy.

Helpful Constable Proves Cops Can Still Be Tops


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On another Star-related note, their coverage of the Super Bowl was nothing less than terrible. As they so often do, they put an emphasis on wire services coverage the day of, only to have their own staff cover issues a day after that have already been a common site on many a website for upwards of 24 hours.

You'd think they would have an interest in providing more timely commentary of issues as per many a website, so as to prolong their inevitable demise consistent with the death of print media. Maybe not.

In the event you would fancy the opportunity to read The Toronto Star online, let me save you the trouble. Today's Top 5 stories according to http://www.thestar.com/ include 5 Free Apps That Save You Money, A 'Glee' Tour Coming to Toronto and an 84-Year Old Burglar Apprehended in Hungary.

This Week's Winner of the Dave Parker Award for Excellence: Mickey Mantle

Having already included Yankees teammate Roger Maris in this pantheon of excellence, something I read yesterday reminded me of ol' #7. The man with the one of the greatest names in the history of proffessional sports deserves his place amongst the Mount Rushmore of athletes who strived to be excellent at excellence whilst enjoying a smoke.

Mickey, as long as I've been alive, I've been a baseball nut. Despite the fact you played for the Bronx Bombers, my hatred for the pinstriped pricks doesn't run as far back as the days when I was but a twinkle in some dude's eyes.

If there was ever any question of your excellence and the legacy you left, look no further than the post below. Enjoy.

Mickey Mantle: Putting the MAN in Mantle.

As I stated above, Mickey Mantle is cool as fuck. My good friends at Deadspin unearthed an interesting submission to a questionnaire celebrating the 50th anniversary of Yankees Stadium.

Needless to say, Mr. Mantle's responses were noteworthy. I would cut and paste it, but the good people over at Letters of Note deserve some recognition for the find - they're also one heck of a website (also, as in so is this one. Am i right?)

Set aside a few minutes and follow the link below.

Mickey Mantle's Outstanding Experience at Yankees Stadium

Mid-Week EPL Review

Just in case some of you had to work these past few days, fear not, I have the all you need to know about the English Premier Leagues mid-week matches.

With the transfer window closing late Monday night, the first week of February marks the beginning of the stretch run for clubs in the English Premier League. At this juncture, full points become vital not only for the handful of clubs chasing the EPL crown, but also for those hoping not to be relegated at season’s end.

On Tuesday, league-leaders Manchester United trounced struggling Aston Villa 3-1 at Old Trafford to stay atop the Premier League table. More than simply 3 points for the United faithful, Wayne Rooney scored twice marking a possible return to form amidst a season of disappointing individual performances.

Arsenal remained 5 points back of United with a 2-1 win over Everton at North London’s Emirates Stadium. The Gunners came from behind following a missed offside call that resulted in a goal for Toffees striker Louis Saha. Arsenal substituted physical play for their typically flair-driven football in preparation for their mid-month Champions League tilt with All-World Spanish giants Barcelona.

Chelsea got a much needed 3 points away at Sunderland with a 4-2 victory to remain fourth in the table, with goals from Terry, Lampard, Kalou and Anelka. Record signing Fernando Torres is expected to make his debut Sunday against his former club Liverpool.

West Bromwich Albion and Wigan drew 2-2 at the Hawthornes in a match between two of the EPL’s clubs trapped in the relegation zone. Both clubs desperately needed the full 3 points.

Wednesday marked a vital performance for Liverpool, as they claimed their 3rd consecutive Premier League win with a 2-0 victory over Stoke City. New signing Luis Suarez was substituted into the match in the 63rd minute to rousing applause from supporters at Anfield, only to score an insurance marker in the 79th to ensure the victory.

Birmingham came from behind twice at home to Manchester City for 2-2 draw. With the other 3 clubs in the top 4 getting full points the previous day, City was dealt a crushing blow to its title hopes with the draw. They now sit 8 points back of cross-city rivals United with an extra game played.

Tottenham remained 3 points back of Chelsea for 4th with a 1-0 win away at Blackburn. Peter Crouch’s 4 minute goal was enough to deny a Blackburn side that fought valiantly for new manager Steve Kean.

At Craven Cottage, Fulham continued a run of good form as Damien Duff scored against his former club Newcastle for a 1-0 victory.


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Wednesday also marked the announcement by Manchester United defender Gary Neville of his retirement retroactive right the fuck now. He came through the United Academy ranks alongside the likes of David Beckham, Ryan Giggs, Paul Scholes and Nicky Butt and enjoyed plenty of success with the club in his 20 years. I've never liked the guy. That won't change now. Good riddance Gary.

That's that kids - enjoy shovelling tonight and don't forget, not only is the Super Bowl this coming Sunday, but Chelsea play Liverpool in Nando Torres' return and the Magic visit the Celtics.

A Sportswriter's Writer - Rob Neyer

Up until Monday, Rob Neyer had been covering baseball for ESPN.com and the SweetSpot Network.

Despite never receiving the acclaim allotted to lesser writers or those that have lost their passion, Neyer's work is brilliant and his assessment of the game is in a league of its own. Baseball junkies and writers alike wisely recognize Neyer as amongst the elite - it's just a shame ESPN failed to give him the platform he deserved.

In hopes of not sounding overly negative, a great many of the men covering baseball for ESPN are pompous and too often strive to be poetic and metaphorical, where Neyer shone as the quiet voice of reason. The man loves baseball - it's apparent when you read his stuff. And he's a Royals fan, which can make loving baseball difficult at times.

I read his final column for ESPN Monday afternoon and enjoyed it as much as I could enjoy a writer that is both as eloquent and concise as a baseball writer could hope to be. Can't wait to see what comes next for one of baseball's greatest minds.

In the event you'd fancy reading some of the 4000+ items he's amassed with the Evil 4-Letters, here's a link to his archives page.


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For EPL fans, here's a brief and utterly bland synopsis of the January transfer news that at a glance couldn't have taken more than 10 minutes to craft.