Los Angeles: City of Lights? I Don't Think So ...

        Los Angeles has long been called "the City of Lights".  I dispute that claim.  Sherwood Park is the new "City of Lights".  Yes, LA has thirty million people illuminate the night sky; however, Sherwood Park is the worldwide leader of traffic lights.  Bar none.  

I have had the pleasure (?) of living in Sherwood Park for over forty-six years.  There was one set of lights when I moved here, as there was only five thousand people in 1964.  Forty-six years later, the same three main roads—Sherwood Park Freeway, Baseline Road, and Highway 16—attempt to accommodate the eighty-five thousand commuters that travel between Edmonton and the Park.  In 1964 there was little problem getting people from the cosy bedroom community into the city on their daily drive to and from work.  Not so now! The highly trained and educated visionaries, known as "County Planners", unfortunately have dropped the ball, so to speak, when it comes to realizing that three main thorough fares are not sufficient to move 85,000 people on a daily basis. 

And what have they come up with to solve this obvious problem for the commuters?  Traffic lights.  Fucking traffic lights.  Every fucking two hundred metres apart, there is another set of traffic lights.  It is incredible.  Here is a little fun sociological phenomena: enter Sherwood Park by the Freeway, head East over the overpass, and begin counting traffic lights. Then turn North down Sherwood Drive, towards Baseline Road, turn left at Baseline Road, and drive East to Highway 21.  If you survive that drive without killing yourself, you are a better man than I. There must be at least 25 traffic lights in approximately six miles.  Do the math. Unbelievable.  

My question is: who the hell decided to put all of these traffic lights in Sherwood Park?  Did they get some kind of fucking deal on a bunch of lights?  How the traffic lights in Sherwood Park work has already been covered by this writer, and trust me when I tell you that over the Christmas holidays, it has driven me fucking crazy, per usual.  Please reread my traffic light blog on this site.  

My thinking is that they bought these lights in huge quantities and are forced to put them up so not to waste the taxpayer's money.  As I ran on the treadmill, I thought of a conversation that some company flunky had with the County of Strathcona (oops, I mean Strathcona County… I wonder how much taxpayer's money was spent of that earth-shattering name change?) employee:

Flunky: "Ya, we can let you have these 500 traffic lights, and it will only cost you the same as if you bought 499." 

County Idiot: (excitedly) "Ohh, we'll take 'em!  Now do they all work?"

Flunky: "Well, they all work … to some degree."

CI: "What do you mean?"

F: "Well, the turning lights on all of them are a little inconsistent in terms of working.  By that  I mean that some don't work at all, some only work for a short time each day, and some only work for very, very short, intermittent stretches.  This will add a little bit of mystery and excitement whenever someone pulls up to a light!"

CI: "Well that's not so good, is it?"

F: "No problem.  Just tell everyone that you are doing a study concerning traffic flow and the new lights will reflect the results that you are getting.  Trust me, all the people will believe anything you tell them.  Just like the bullshit about all snow flakes being different.  They'll eat it up."

CI: "Where will we use 500 lights?"

F: "No problem.  Put them up every mile or so."

CI: "Hey, Sherwood Park is not that big."

F: "Even better.  Put them up about one hundred metres apart and everyone will love the colours. It will be just like Christmas all year around."

CI: "Nice!"

And that is how Sherwood Park became the "City of Lights".   

Poker

     Poker is a great game (when you win).  Sitting around with your friends; grinding each other's gears; sharing good food, having some laughs, is a lot of fun (when you win).  What could be better (when you win)?  Poker involved no physical skill but the mental and emotional skill is tremendous. It's thrilling (when you win). Getting cards is exhilarating (when you win). Making a really good bluff gives you a warm, smug feeling (when you win).  

The different cards that you get throughout the night will determine your mental and emotional well being. What could be better than pocket aces (if you win)?  Looking at cowboys (kings) is fabulous (if you win).  Having ladies (queens) staring at you is wonderful (if you win).  Could there be anything better than catching that inside straight (if you win)?  Flushing out is excellent (as long as you win). Making a really great bet is tremendous (if you win), as is making a really good value bet (if you win).  Turning over fives and saying "presto" is superb (as long as you win). Spiking a set, or better yet quads, can't be beat (as long as you win). Pushing people around because you have the big stack is brilliant (as long as you win). Making a good lay down or a good read; makes you feel happy (even though you didn't win, it felt like you won!). Thinking you have the nuts gives you a feeling of invincibility (as long as you win). What could be better that having a night of getting every card you want (as long as you win)?  

   All of these things make poker a great, great game. There are few things better than a successful night of poker.  The good things that I have mentioned above might happen 10% of the time and when it happens, nothing could be more fun or thrilling. The only problem with poker is that you lose 90% of the time.  The incredible high of winning 10% of the time must sustain you for the 90% of the time in which you get your ass handed to you by everyone else at the table. 

Even when you get the cards sometimes you lose.  You might get aces and still lose.  Having kings, queens, a straight or a flush, still do not ensure that you will win the pot, or have a successful night. I recently lost when I had quads (four of a kind - the second best hand possible).  Nothing is guaranteed in poker.  Luck has a lot to do with it.  Sometimes you get the cards; sometimes you don't.  You can occasionally outplay others when you don't get cards but that won't last long. Eventually the cards you get will determine success or failure. Success means happiness; failure means being pissed off until the next game…  and you can't fucking wait! 

Parking Lots

    I spend a lot of time in parking lots.  In fact most of life is spent sitting in my car observing the goings on of parking lots. My wife loves to shop and I'm her ride so... I call it driving Miss Crazy.  There are a lot of things going on in parking lots and generally most of it pisses me off.  When not reading I just sit and watch.
    Let's start with some really bad parking lots.
    The single worst parking lot in the city of Edmonton, without question is the 97St Market.  What a shit show.  It is fucking Thunder-dome.  Anything goes. Now I must admit that they have tried to improve the situation by closing the entrance at the corner or 97th and 107; however, it is of little consequence. Every time  you go there it becomes a used car lot with nobody moving. The Asian culture must include sitting and waiting for grandma to grocery shop, whilst blocking everyone else from moving.  I refuse to go into there any more.  We park on the street and my wife walks.
    The TD bank in Sherwood Park off of the Freeway is a gong show.  People love to park anywhere because they need to 'just pop in'.  Fucking great!
    Costco is always fun.  It's never busy, is it?  Carts everywhere, fat assed people wandering down the middle of the roads, eating hot dogs, special people parking in front of the doors because they need to just grab something.  Then you get to stand in line...  Kill me now!
    Italian Centre downtown brings into play the street people who love to harass you in your car (97 St. Market is bad for this also).  There is about twelve spots available to park and people start parking illegally on the little side road, which makes coming out and going in an adventure.  Luckily there is good food or I would refuse to go there.
    South side Italian market has a lousy parking lot also.  There is never any spaces.  One thing that I have observed is how mean looking the Italian Nona's are. (I have a theory about that after watching many Nonas come and go at the Italian Centre.  My theory is that Italian women are very beautiful when young; however, they lose their looks quickly and as they get older, they get really pissed off about it - hence the miserable looks! It's just a theory based on observation but tell me I'm wrong!)
    WEM.  Why would anyone possibly go there to shop? Just to drive around and around all day looking for a spot?
    Now for the parking situations that drive me crazy:
- Parking at an angle instead of straight.  Fucking special people doing whatever they want.  Lucky for them I do not act upon my first thought of keying their car or parking the same way beside them and repeatedly open my door and hitting their door. I'm such a pussy!
- Not parking between the lines.  Everyone on earth wants world peace.  Ha!  How the fuck can we achieve something as difficult as world peace when we can't get people to agree to stay within two yellow lines.  It really is not that fucking difficult, is it?
  -  Creating your own parking space.  I love when people come to a lot and find that others actually got there before them, so because they are special, they just create there own parking area where there wasn't one before.  Of course the other retards then start following along and soon the road to drive in and out gets eliminated.  But that's ok.  These are special, entitled people who deserve it.
- I have already written in another blog about people who park in the front of stores and banks just because... they too are the special people in the world who do whatever they want.  Fuck 'em!
- Waiting for a parking spot.  Isn't it great to be stuck behind some ignorant asshole who insists upon waiting for fifteen minutes to get a spot.  Indoor parking lots are great for this.  Nobody moves but luckily buddy got his spot.
- The people making everyone wait for their spot. It's great when someone puts their boughten goods into the car and then takes fifteen to twenty minutes to vacate the spot.  They light up a smoke; they have a conversation on the cell phone; they talk with their co-pilot - the dog, they finish that last nineteen bites of a dried up cannoli, finish that coffee, or whatever the hell else they do. Meanwhile everyone waits, and waits, and waits.
- Aren't car alarms going off in a parking lot wonderful?  Don't they serve that purpose that they were intended to serve?  Everyone rushes over to capture someone robbing or swiping the car... right? Not fucking likely.  Instead, people would like to go to that car and blow it up.  Car alarms are useless.
- Driving fast in a parking lot.  Brilliant idea.  Kids, old farts, fat assed people, all walking in and out of hidden areas and Mario Andretti is gunning it up and down the lanes.  Again, some people are too stupid to live.
- Canadian Tire is a good one for this. People doing car repairs in the parking lot and then throwing their old parts and crap on the ground.  Fucking hillbillies!
- Shopping carts.  People can't walk eleven steps to put their carts away.  I'll just leave this here and block another parking spot.  As long as I don't get put out, that is the important thing.  How about hillbillies riding carts in the parking lots?  This is usually done to entertain young children.  Retards.  And those kids were usually in my class and I was supposed to teach them to read.  
    Christmas shopping is a great time for parking lots.  I suggest you all take a little trip to one of my favourites and see for yourself.  
  

The Good, the Bad and the Ugly... in the NBA

Christmas Eve and I am feeling a little... I don't know what.  Santa's coming and I don't really want to go to bed quite yet so I thought I would comment upon several NBA players.  Some I like; some I don't:

The Don'ts

- Luis Scola: WTF is with that headband?  Can't he afford a real one?  # 2 on the all crossed-eyed team.
- LBJ: Mr. Sincere. Yuck.  Maybe he will get a jump shot for Christmas.
- Monta Ellis: He thinks a pass is something you make at a women.
- Andrew Bynum: Big body... little desire.  Too bad.
- Pau Gasol: Such a little head.  And such big nostrils.  Looks like a Frenchman. Can play though!
- Kobe: What's with the eye brow?  Is that his mean face?
- Derek Fischer: Used to like him.  Now he's a thug.  A little thug, but a thug never the less.
- Kevin Garnett: Mr. Huff and Puff.  Look how mean I am before the game.  Has anyone ever seen him knock someone down in the game.  Didn't think so.
- Coach K: Duke.  Ratface.  Say no more.
- Carmelo Anthony: Another thug.  Living on his 'Cuse days.
- J.R. Smith: Thank God he didn't go to Carolina.  Major thug.  Never met a shot he didn't like.  He's a shooter... needs to be a maker!
- Chris Anderson: Nice tats.  That hair is impressive... if you're living on the West End of London.
This is what happens when trailer people get money.
- John Calapari: Don't you feel like you need a shower after listening to him talk?
- Kentucky Basketball: You know how they cheat in the SEC in football?  Guess who started it in the 50's with basketball?  As Bob Knight says about Kentucky, "Those cheating bastards."
- TFT: ahhh, traded again.  Back to fuck up Orlando.  Let's see, Toronto didn't want him.  Phoenix didn't even keep him until Christmas.  I wonder if the flight is booked to Istanbul yet?
- Rajon Rondo: Please watch this guy the next time he's on TV.  He never, ever, ever, guards his man.  He just runs around and tries to steal the ball.  Kind of like the best athlete in Junior High School.  Shoots like it also.  Probably cheats 'cus he from Kentucky.
- Vince Carter: When Dean Smith dies, he will spin in his grave every time Vin-sanity  doesn't play hard to goes down with another pretend injury.  Which mean it will happen each game at least twice. An embarrassment to UNC.
- Baron Davis: Watch how many time he comes down and shoots without anyone else on his team touching the ball. Leads the league in this category.  And he is a point guard. Fuck!
- Chris Paul:  He's a great player but he looks like he's a prick. I don't know... he just looks like it!
- Jose Calderon: Anyone who looks like Prince just can't be a basketball player.  Next time he guards someone, will be the first.
- Shane Battier: WTF is up with the hair line? Is it his hairline or his eyebrow?
- Kurt Thomas: # 1 on the cross-eyed team.  How in hell can he shoot straight?
- Manu Ginobili: Greasy bastard.  How would you like to meet him on a dark side road? You're not coming out of that alive, I'm telling you.
- DeMarcus Cousins: Kentucky player.  Say no more.  Has the emotional maturity of a four year old.
- Tyreke Evens:  Another Calapari product.  Soap anyone?
- U Conn Men and Women: Unlikable. Calhoon and Auriamo (too lazy to look up correct spelling of his name - don't like him enough to do it): miserable pricks both of them.
- Stan Van Gundy: Ron Jeremy with a turtle-neck.  If you know who Ron Jeremy is... shame on you!
- Jeff Van Gundy: Skeletar look alike. Should marry Maria Shriver.  How would you like to wake up to either of them in the morning.  YIKES!
- Brandon Jennings:  Here is an idea: practice the jump shot instead of getting another tattoo.
- Josh Smith:  His 3 point shot makes him look like the third little pig (figure it out!).
- Andre Iguodala: Captain of the all under-bite team.  Should have attended Boston Collage.
- Dwight Howard: Shooting range... an inch and a half.  You might want to try a little lift on that shot, Dwight.
- Stephan Jackson: How many felonies does this guy have to commit before the NBA gets rid of him?
- Gilbert Arenas: Speaking of felonies...
- John Wall: Kentucky.  'nuff said.
- O. J. Mayo: A chip off the old block, perhaps?
- Andre Blatche: I can't remember who said it but some player who got traded from Washington somewhere else said that this guy is the laziest human being on earth.  Sounds like someone who should be playing professional basketball.
- Hasheem Thabeet: How could a top five draft pick be this bad?  Has someone lost their job over this draft pick?
- Glen Davis:  Big Baby.  Big cross-eyed baby.  Shoot for the middle basket, Big Baby!

The Dos
- Blake Griffin:  If you haven't seen him play, make a point of it.  Awe-fucking-some.  Every game there  is something amazing.  He is the most explosive big man in history. Now if he could get two things: the ball from that fucking ball hog Baron Davis and a jump shot.
- Derrick Rose: Changed my tune on him.  He's good. Still needs work on his J but explosive and quick. Luckily he had only one year of Calapari.
- Ty Lawson: UNC. Quick. Strong.  Needs to play more. Odd how he is the best player from that awesome UNC team of two years ago?
- Joaqim Noah: changed my opinion of him.  Still a flake but he's the only guy in the league who has stood up to LBJ and told him to stop being such a fucking, disrespectful asshole.  Too bad they didn't scrap.  The Frenchman won, the Frenchman won.  There's something you don't hear often.
- Yao: He's done.  Always had a certain dignity to him that I appreciated.
- Ray Allen: Chews his gum funny but what what a sweet jumper.
- Steve Noosh:  He's Canadian.  He plays hard and he's tough.  What's not to like?
- Kevin Durant: Notice how he is never in the news about signing his new contract? Just shuts up and plays... well! Very well! He needs to follow me around for a while... he'll gain a few pounds!
- Deron Williams:  I will take him over Chris Paul any day. Tough, skilled, and a better athlete than he looks.  Too bad he has a Battier hair line.
- Jerry Sloan: Gawd I bet he would like to fucking snap on some of their wimpy, soft, pampered players of today.  Better yet he would like to be able to guard them when he was in his prime.  He would make them cry.
- Dirk: Eins, zwei, drei (it's great to have a linguist for a son!). Best shooting big man EVER! Like butter!
- Kevin Love:  Beach Boy my ass. Tough bastard.  Gets every rebound.  Remember: no rebounds ... no rings (Pat Riley)
- Seniors: NCAA champions need seniors.  The reason UNC has sucked the last two years.

Well a lot more don't like than like.  Shows you what a miserable bastard I am.  Ohh well!  Merry Christmas to you all.  Watch lots of hoops tomorrow.  You'll see I'm right.

These Are a Few Of My Least Favorite Things .... About Football

    I never used to like football too much.  I thought that you had to be nuts (actually stupid!) to play a game in which pain was the dominant factor.  I am still surprised that there is not someone literally maimed on each and every play.  It is a vicious, violent game.  I am too much of a wimp to play football; however, I have gained considerable respect and admiration for football and the players in the past ten years.
    I credit this to my friend Pete, who was a football player of some alleged skill (according to him).  Whilst spending considerable time with Pete, I have discovered that he has certainly taken too many hits to the head; however he is also not stupid.  Maybe football players are not what I assumed they were. I might have been wrong (And my motto is: I am rarely wrong and when I am; I don't admit it!).
    After many discussions with Pete, I  have come to change my beliefs about football, and I have begun to watching the game on TV.  HD has certainly made football watching much more enjoyable; but there are several things that drive me crazy about the game.  Such as:
- Long haired football players.  WTF? I have had enough of guys running around the field with hair down to their ass.  Every team now has at least five guys with long, flowing hair, covering their names and half of their numbers. Usually it is the corner backs.  Enough already! Although I do like it when these long haired guys get tackled by someone grabbing their locks.  Serves them right. Ouch!
- Players making a wiping motion with one hand, palm towards their faces, after they have made a play.  WTF does that mean? Why do they do it?  It means nothing.
- Sack dances.  Isn't it the job of the defensive linemen to tackle the QB?  So if you do it, why do you have to dance around like your ass is on fire?   Just what I want to see... some fat bastard dancing around with his blubber all jiggly (former fat man's revenge!). Get your fat ass back into the huddle and catch your breath. You're going to need it tubby!
- TD dances.  They are just fucking stupid.  Act like you have done it before (Dean Smith's advice). Is someone (DeSean Jackson perhaps?) going to light himself on fire after a TD just to get people to look at them?
- Defensive team trying to rip the ball out of the ball carriers hands, instead of tackling them.  Again it is a simple case of someone trying to be the hero instead of making the play.  Typical athlete of today. That way they get themselves on ESPN. It's all about face time.
- Fumbles.  I hate when there is a fumble.  Ten fat guys diving, punching, scratching, grabbing, fighting, pinching, gouging, biting and whatever else is going on at the bottom of the human mosh pit (groping?). How they figure out who has the ball is beyond me.  All I know is that I quickly turn the channel when a fumble occurs and turn back fifteen minutes later just as they unravel the humanity and give the ball to someone. Usually it is the team I don't like.
- Brett Favre.  Ha, ha, ha.  What a fucking joke.  This year couldn't have happened to a more deserving person than the selfish, drama queen himself.
- Penalties are a joke in football.  They could call probably five penalties each play. How do you decide when to call a penalty or not?  I guess you give the officials the leeway to make a judgement call.  That is a recipe for a fucking disaster.  Referee's... fuck'em all!
- Dumping Gatorade on the coach.  The first time it happened, it was funny. Ever since then, it has sucked.  Doing this to the coach in -15 degrees weather in Minnesota is cruel and unusual punishment. STOP.
- Moving the chains.  This is the 21st Century.  Can't we have a better system that two retards in funny uniforms, with long sticks and a chain strung between them?   How about something using a computer, or lasers, or GPS?  Lets get up to speed with technology and change this ridiculous, archaic system.
- Spotting the ball after a play.  Read the statement above concerning lasers, computers etc.  Don't depend on some fucking referee to do it.  I repeat: Fuck the refs!
- Pounding chests.  WTF does that mean?  HHHMMM, me strong! Give me banana.  What are they... baboons?
- Overtime.  IT IS NOT FAIR!  I don't really care much for the collage game's overtime, but at least each team get a chance.  Come on NFL, think about it.  You can do better than what you have now.  I can't wait until some team wins the Super Bowl in overtime and the other team did not even get a chance.  That is when the shit will hit the preverbal fan.
- Rex Ryan.  How about grabbing a great big can of shut the hell up, lard ass?  Win something before you declare yourself great.  On top of it, your coaches cheat.  Something about apples not falling far from the tree...
- Concussions.  With all the technology in the world; we can't make a better football helmet than what they have now?  Doesn't someone understand that there is big money to be made if they make a better hat for the football players?  Of coarse it doesn't help that you have gigantic, incredibly muscular, speeding human beings slamming into each other, every play.  Remember what I said about someone getting maimed on each play...
- Shirtless fans.  They should be taken out of the stadium and beaten.  They are too stupid to live.
- Jumping celebrations.  Tiresome already.
- DeSean Jackson.  I can't wait until some big, mean linebacker breaks him in half.  What a fucking clown.  From the first game he played and his first touchdown, he has proven that he is world class asshole.  Another perfect example of the modern athlete.  I am sure that he hangs with LBJ and the likes.
- The playoff system.  It drives me crazy when the sports talk shows discuss how teams are going to get into the playoffs.  The mathematics involved boggle the mind.  How about if we just wait a while and it will all take care of its self?  Talk about verbal masturbation.
    Other than that I love watching football.  Can't wait for the playoffs.

The Sucking of High School Basketball

   Other than my son and my wife; high school basketball has been the most important thing in my life.  I owe a lot to high school basketball.  It was the reason that I went to university and became a teacher.  I didn't really want to teach; I wanted to coach basketball and teaching was the best way to do that.  Most of my closest friends come from my coaching; whether they were players or assistant coaches.
     My love for high school basketball began in 1969 when I went to the Edmonton City Championship at the U of A.  The game was between JP and Ross Shep.  My memory of that night was crowd of Ross Shep fans pinning the officials to the wall at the end of the game; due to the fact that there was a no call in the last few seconds of a one point game (Refs - even then I knew that they were fuck-ups!).  Since that night I have played, followed, watched, coached, lived and died high school basketball.
    I was able to be part of one of the greatest dynasties in Alberta sports history.  Our/my high school had a run of about 25 years that is the equal of almost all high school in Alberta.  Yes I know about Raymond, HA, RS, but check the records.  We were much more successful for a period of 25 years than any other high school.  Being part of the wonderful tradition, the exciting times, and the success was something that I will never forget.
     Now,  this is not a trip down memory lane piece.  The problem is the things that once made high school basketball wonderful are gone.  The result is that high school basketball; as it now is played; basically sucks.  It's dead.  Playing high school sports should be something that spawns a lifetime of good memories.  It is supposed to be a situation where kids get a chance to compete, have fun, get better, hopefully win some games, have good times after the games, maybe get the opportunity to play at the next level, spend time with their friends, live the life of a high school jock, get chicks, have the teachers look the other way because you are the starting point guard (Hmm... not talking about me specifically of course), and basically be a kid.  Those are memories that come from high school basketball.
     High school basketball used to be a very simple thing.  It was my neighborhood against your neighborhood.  Simple.  Let's see if the guys in our school can beat the guys in your school.  It may have been neighborhood verses neighborhood, Dogans verses  Pagans.  My town verses your town.  That is what high school basketball WAS about.  There was no recruiting.  We didn't have kids all go the best school so they can win.  Kids didn't change schools to play volleyball or football, and then go back just to play basketball.  There would be a new good team each year because teams stayed together and improved. If they were young and had a poor record one year, they knew that they would be good next year and have a chance to win.
    Now, high school basketball is a joke.  There is only four teams in Edmonton with a chance to win.  Ainley, Shep, JP and OL (And OL has a very small chance).  That's it.  All the good players in the city basically go to those schools so they can win ( Just like LBJ did in the NBA).   Why the hell should any other schools even play?  It is a waste of time.  You'll hear the bleeding heart idiots; who have never played or competed, talk about just 'playing for fun', 'do your best', 'everyone gets to play', 'everyone gets a medal', 'as long as you try', blah, blah, blah.  What bullshit.  Playing is about competing.  If you cannot compete with teams because the playing field is uneven; why the fuck waste your time, and energy?
     And believe me, the playing field is not even.  The big four have all the advantages and if they lose; it's because they didn't work hard enough or had really, really shitty coaching.  Kids now want to win at all costs.  The kids think, that if they get every good player in the city to come to; say,  Ainley, they'll win.  It's like shooting fish in a barrel.  How can RS and HA lose; yet they seem to.  JP has as many 'transfers' (a softer, gentler word for recruits) and still never wins (they do work hard so...).  The big four get all of the publicity from the papers.  If someone came from out of town and reads the Edmonton Journal's high school sports page (a rare occurrence), they will think that the only schools in all of Edmonton and surrounding areas, are HA, RS and JP.  That's a joke.  80-90% of all articles in the 'Urinal' are about these three schools.
     The big four have large populations, nice gyms, big tournament opportunities, pretty good coaching (as least one of them!), advantaged kids and and province wide reputations.  Great players look at the positives and go there.  Is this recruiting?  Is it against the rules?  I do wonder what would have happened if a coach or principal said no to the Alberta team player?  Tell them to stay and play with his team at QE or wherever.  Just because you don't go out and 'recruit' doesn't mean you don't recruit.  We tell the kids to, "Just say no".  Why don't the adults follow their own advice?
    The other big reason that high school basketball is broken is the most serious of all: parent involvement.  Parents have ruined high school basketball.  They are allowed, by school administration, to get themselves involved and it is WRONG.  Parents have their own agenda and do not care about teamwork, togetherness, role players, team depth, skill development and even winning.  They only care about their child playing.  That's it.  What's best for the team does not matter.  Just let my kid play and preferably let my kids shoot as much as they want, play no defense, not work hard or even come to practice, never pass the ball, not do any of the dirty work, or spend any time at all on the bench.  And if the team loses; of course it is the coaches fault and a phone call will soon follow.
    Parents think that because they have watched 50 basketball game since their precocious child began junior high; they are fucking experts on basketball.  They have never played; they have never coached; they know nothing about developing a team; but they feel compelled to criticize and berate the coaches. Hmmm...  Here is a coach that has spent 20 years teaching, coaching, learning about the game. They spend literally tens of thousands hours of their 'free' time trying to help young people get better. Daddy; who have spent 100 hours watching crappy basketball, is now the fucking expert and expects to give his opinion about how poor of a job the lifelong coach is doing.  Jesus; I've eaten in a lot of restaurants, but I don't think I could tell the chef how to do it.  Parents drive good coaches out and nobody holds them accountable for their bullying.
    No high school coach is above this parental bullying.  I know coaches that have won 4-5-6 provincial championships, who are still criticized, bullied and have had their lives made miserable by parents; who by some fucking miracle, know more that these coaches.   Like the uneven playing field; why would you want to put in all the time and energy when you get nothing but grief and criticism from parents of kids that you are giving up your time to improve?  So good coaches quit and the high school game suffers.
   Kids don't understand commitment, nor do the parents reinforce the need for commitment.  Coming to practice now is considered a suggestion to the kids.  They come if they want.  But they want to play 40 minutes the next game.
   Kids work.  They think that they should be able to work, not come to practice, and still play 40 minutes a game.  Parents complain like hell when you set a practice schedule because it restricts poor Johnny's ability to work at Starbucks and make money.
    Kids have low expectations of what high school basketball is all about.  They just about shit themselves when they play against someone who plays hard and plays to win.  When they have been given medals all of their life just for breathing, not for winning, your competitive spirit becomes non-existent.  They have no ability of overcoming adversity.  Mommy and daddy have always bailed them out and they expect it to happen in basketball or they quit. ...
   And the phone calls begin. Those are just some of the reasons why high school basketball now sucks.

More Special Than Me

   We have always been told that we all are special in the eyes of the Lord.  Apparently their are many, many people in this world that are much more special than I am.  Here are a few that I have had the pleasure of recently:
- the special people who park wherever they want.  There may be a  'No Parking' sign, but that doesn't apply to them.  Be it in front of the drug store; by the door at the bank; in a 'Disabled Parking' zone; or taking up 2/3 spots.  Obviously these people are very special and do not feel the need to follow the rules or signs.  If questioned, they usually answer that they "JUST had to run in for a minute."  Fuck you!
- the special people that take more than 15 items to the express lane at the grocery store.  My question is this: are they illiterate or just plain stupid? They either can't read or they can't comprehend.  A lady working at Safeway told me that some old women came to the Express Lane and had over $600 worth of groceries.   Punishment for that should be death!
How about those special drivers out there?
- you know the ones that drive in the asshole lane.  That's the lane that ends.  The assholes; who don't like having to wait, drive in it anyways.  Then some fucking smuck lets them in and they get reinforced that they are special.  This is also know as the Brian Parasynchuk lane. (He says he loves that lane and says "Bye suckers").  I say run them into the ditch or preferably; a light post.
- those special people who are too stupid to understand merging.  Merging does not mean that you get to go in front of everyone else, asshole.  It mean you are to get into the lane when it is safe.  This is the classic road bully who just pushes his way in.
- how about those special people with nicer cars than me and obviously were given a park this way (\) instead of this way (l) pass.  Now I understand that there are a lot of morons who bang your car doors with theirs; however, that doesn't give you the right to take up two lanes.  If it is such a problem, stay the fuck at home! Your choice.
- those ever considerate people who are too special to turn off their cell phone in public.  Thanks asshole!
- even worst is the special people that insist that we listen to their phone conversations.  Apparently these phone conversations are so important that they must talk loud enough for everyone to hear; as well as go on for half an hour. Wow, riveting stuff. Tell me more...
- isn't it fun to sit in a restaurant and listen to some loud mouth special person who doesn't have the brains or grace to understand that no one else in the entire establishment wants to hear his life story.  But he goes on and on and on and.... Shut the fuck up!
-I love people who come to social events at the last minute and disrupt everyone by trying to get a really good seat.  Then they look around stunned that there is no seats available for them, front and center. It's like they are expecting everyone to leave a seat just for them.
- I love people who are so special that they really think that store clerks or bank tillers want to hear their life story.  Meanwhile everyone in line gets to sit there, stewing.  Blah, blah, blah.  My friend Daniel, from Switzerland, was in a bank in Sherwood Park and some jerk was telling the tiller his life story.  Daniel yelled at him "Hey, hurry up. Everyone here wants to get their money."  They threw Daniel out of the bank.  How wrong is that?
- here's an oldie but a goodie: dog owners who do not pick up their dog's crap.  Of course all dog owners will deny that they would ever do that.  So how come the world is strewn with dog shit everywhere?
- how about those special people who walk down the middle of the parking lot without the slightest idea that there might be a car driving... in the parking lot.  La-di-da. They stroll along, like they don't have a care in the world.  Then they look at you like "WTF.  What are doing in this parking lot?"  How about this: get the fuck out of the way, fat ass! Wal-Mart is particularly bad for this one.  Yokels and hillbillies.  Special yokels and special hillbillies.
     Now the answer to why all of these special people do all of these things: BECAUSE THEY WANT TO.  It's simple.  Selfish people doing selfish things.  It's a selfish world overrun with selfish people. That is why I live in a bubble.

Fav-er

    I have disliked Brett Favre his entire career.  I loath him. I always believed he was tremendously overrated.   I am truly loving the storm surrounding him this year, both on and off the field.  Loving it so much I can barely wipe the shit-eating grin off of my face. No athlete deserves it more than 'Mr. Retirement'.
    First off, the fact that he randomly changes around the the letters in his name, really, really pisses me off.  His name is spelled F-a-v-r-e.  How the fuck do you Far-ve out of that?  Now my son the theoretical linguist tells me that there are examples in some early languages in the Middle East, that do change the last consonant around.  Fucking Fav-er comes from Mississippi, not the Middle East.  The French don't; the Cajuns don't. So how come 'M. R.' just arbitrarily decides to change his name?  That's easy: HE DOES WHATEVER HE WANTS.  That's why.  Always has, always will.
    I listen to a lot of sports talk on satellite radio and they often amuse themselves by ranking the greatest quarterbacks in NFL history.  M. R. is always ranked in the top ten.  I have been watching NFL football for over 40 years, going back to the dominant Packer days of the mid-sixties.  I am pretty sure I could name 10-15 quarterbacks better than M. R.  I am not saying that he wasn't a great players in his day, but he soon became a player of diminishing results.  For every great play he would fuck two up.  As the years have gone by he has become much more of a liability to his team.
     His last years with the Packers were not good (How wonderful must the Packers feel to have gotten rid of that albatross from around their necks?  And they even have a great QB now to replace M.R.).  His time with the Jets was a disaster and even though he had a fantastic year last year, he eventually fucked it up.  This year has proven that he is done.  He has been horrible.  He has had 17 INTs, as well as his usual bad decision after bad decision.  His off the field problems have proven to be a tremendous distraction, be it the sitch-ee-ay-shun of the cell phone and the scrumpet, not coming to camp in the summer, or not liking the coach and finally being a very big reason that Chilly was fired.
     I love to see M.R. throw INTs when he tries to 'thread the needle' through 4-5 defenders.  He just can't help himself.  He has to be the hero.  Winning isn't enough.  He has to be the reason they win the game.  The V's have the best running back in the league.  Adrian Peterson is the best; sorry Chris Johnson.  He led the league in rushing before M.R. came to town, but now Fav-er needs to be the show, so AP doesn't get the ball enough.  First down gets 2 yards which suite M.R. fine because now he gets to throw the fucking ball around and be the star. Even the lousy QBs in the league come to the line and try to read what the defense is doing, but not M.R.  He comes up and barely looks at the defense.  All the better for ad-libbing.  That way he can be the hero.  As I have already said in another blog; you throw enough shit against the wall and some of it will stick.  He wins some games with his bullshit but...
     How he loves to be the center of attention.  "Ohhh, I think I will retire."  "Ohhhh, maybe I'll play."  "Ohhhhh I don't know what I'll do."  "Won't someone please come and beg me to play?"  What a fucking joke.  And the teams just come a runnin, waving millions of dollars at him.  And he knows that he is the one in control.  He is always bigger than the team.  He knows it, the coach knows it and his teammates know it. He gets the team to bring in players he wants (Randy Moss!), and he gets coaches fired.  What a power trip he is on.
    He should have quit after the debacle of the NFC championship game last year.  True to his selfish personality, Fav-er had to do something to screw his team.  They had the game won.  They were within field goal range and a victory.  But of coarse this wasn't good enough for M.R.  Oh no, he had to get his fingerprints on the victory.  Can't let the kicker get the glory, right Brett?  No he had to be the hero and throw a horrible pass that did not have a chance of being completed.  Had to.  Another INT and the Saints went marching on!
    His selfishness knows no boundaries.  He keeps playing to keep his consecutive game streak alive.  This has been a complete detriment to his team's success.  Several time in the past five years he has played despite not being physically able. This year alone he should have missed at least two or three games.  He loves that everyone rants and raves about his toughness and  dedication to the game.  Bullshit.  It is just another way that he gets everyone to look at him and tell him how great he is.  Selfish, selfish selfish.

     I once heard a quote from the drummer of the some band that I don't remember.  He was asked what he was thinking about while drumming during a song.  He said 'That's easy.  LOOK AT ME, LOOK AT ME."  That is Brett Fav er to a tee.  He is nothing but a raging egomaniac.  

  

Once You've Said Tar Heels ...

    I can remember the exact moment that I became a North Carolina Tar Heel fan.  When I laid my eyes on the March 17, 1975 issue of Sports Illustrated, I became smitten.  The cover had Phil Ford dribbling up the court. On the front it said  'Freshman Phil Ford Kicks Up His Tar Heels'.   The color of the Tar Heel's uniform did it for me.  Since then I have had a tortured love affair with the Heels; a love affair that often places me on the verge (the bridge).
    My heart has been broken so many time that I can not begin to tell you. I am listening to their game right now and they are going to lose to a very average Vanderbilt team. With  eight high school all-Americans on their team they are losing to a bunch of guys from Africa and Australia.  How does that happen?  UNC is doing it to me again.
    Last year, Carolina had the worst year in memory.  They lost 20 games and were so badly outplayed that even Duke felt sorry for them.   After winning the national championship in 2009, they were obviously going to be a different team due to graduation and early departures; however, they sucked so badly that it was often embarrassing.  Granted, the expectations were way, way off last year;  but, with that much talent, they simply had to produce much more than what they did.
    This year's team again is again highly rated, as they got rid of some dead weight and added three more high school AAs.  Well,  the same old shit is causing the problems.  Turnovers, lousy shooting, turnovers, poor perimeter defense, turnovers, a lack of post depth, turnovers, no senior leadership, turnovers and generally lackadaisical play, as well as turnovers, puts their record at 2-2, after getting their asses handed to them twice in Puerto Rico.
    I have spent the last hour trying to convince myself that they are not that good and not to get my hopes up this year.  I can tell myself all the stories I want, but in the end it kills me that they suck.  This is North Carolina.  This is a program with a tradition of exemplary play that stretches back to 1967.  Coach Dean Smith build the Tar Heel dynasty, and I call it a dynasty because despite winning 'only' four NCAA championships in the past 43 years, UNC has spent almost every year ranked among the top five teams. In almost every season the Tar Heels not only were a dominant factor in the very difficult ACC conference, but they had a real, honest chance to get to the Final Four and win it all.  In the 35 years that I have followed Carolina, I can only remember 6 seasons in which the Heels were not a threat to win it all; and two of those years were during the Matt Doherty debacle years (not a real coach!).
    Some of the losses still hurt to this day. Beaten in the finals in 77 and 81 were killers.  Jordan losing in 83 and 84 was devastating. Five times they lost to the eventual champions, which was of no consolation at all to my sorrow.  Fucking Boeheim (Ichabod Crane) and Syracuse in 87 hurt like a kick to the balls and then losing to that old bastard Lute Olsen again the next year ( Lute?  WTF kind of name is that?). Reaching the final four in 91, 95, 97, 98, 2000 and 2008 and losing to teams they should have beaten, hurt beyond belief. Georgetown coming back from 15 down with ten minutes left and beating them in OT in 07 was shocking to say the least.  Need I go on...  and on... and on?  George Mason in 06.  GEORGE MASON for fuck sakes! You want more?  The horror ... the horror...
    My last bottom-out day was during the 2009 championship season.  They were a dominant team that somehow managed to lose to Maryland in February.  The Terps were an ok team, and should not had beaten the eventual NCAA champions.  I had had it.  I swore that this was the end.  I was going to get myself another team.  I called the only person who could possibly understand: a former assistant coach (this one really was an assistant coach, not a wanna be) who now is a head coach.  I now assist him by being his psychoanalyst and regularly get him off the bridge, so I knew he would be able to help me in my time of need.  As I babbled on and on about those gutless, choking, losers; or something to that extent, he asked me a very important questions.  If I was to jump ship; whom would I then cheer for?  He started throwing out names: Louisville (his favorite)? U Conn? Texas? Dook? Michigan State? Villanova? UCLA? Kentucky?  Kansas.?  Hmmm?  Good question.  Let me see...
   Louisville?  With that weasel Pittno?  Would you but a car from him, or go to an Italian restaurant?  U Conn? Not with Calhoon the miserable old bastard.  Texas? Fucking Barnes tried to pick a fight with Dean Smith one time.  Who doesn't love Dean Smith?  Dook?  Dook?  With Rat-face?  Those Yuppie sombitches?  Absolutely not!  Michigan State? Perhaps,  I like Tom Izzo. But they always play a little rough for my liking.  A bunch of thugs. Villanova?  Pretty boy Jay Wright and Philadelphia?  Not  bloody likely.  UCLA?  Ya when John Wooden comes back from the grave to coach them. Kentucky? Calipari, that cheating bastard?  How is it that the NCAA find something dirty with his programs just after he has left town? Kentucky, you're next, mark my words. Kansas?  Na.
    So there you are: I am stuck with Carolina. The love affair continues.  They will kill me slowly but surely. There is no other choice.  I hate everyone else.
    Always remember,  'Once you've said Carolina, you've said it all', and 'If God did not love UNC, why is the sky Carolina blue?'
    Go Tar Heels!!

Red, Yellow, And Green Torture

    I will have many blogs concerning driving and traffic.  It is the bane of my existence. I believe that I have gotten more tolerant and patient concerning driving; however, I still struggle with wanting to kill everyone on the road except me. My goal is to be like Jim Carey in the movie when he was God.  All he did was spread his arms and everyone got out of his way.  That's what I want. I want to be the only car on the road and get where I am going without at interruptions.
    As I was driving today; through the snow and icy roads,  my frustrations mounted when I was forced to sit at an intersection and not get to make a left turn.  Who is God's name designed the traffic lights in the Edmonton and Sherwood Park?  Are they complete idiots or what?
    There is so many problems when making left turns I don't know where to begin.  I guess I shall start with the facts that so few street lights have a left turning arrow or a turning lane.  Some of them are designed with the spot available for the flashing light or arrow ... but they just don't  use it.  What the fuck is it there for if they don't use it?  Some only use it a certain times of the day.  Wonderful.  Isn't that great? I can turn left at 3:30 in the afternoon but not at 10:30 in the morning.  Oh, I am sure they will tell you that it is based on traffic flow.  Bullshit.  They decide and manipulate traffic flow for when they want you to turn.  If they just had turning lights at all intersections, traffic would move much better.
    The lights that have the turning arrows are not much less frustrating.  Most Edmonton and Sherwood Park turning lights last 2-3 cars.  Which means if you are the fourth car in line, you have to run the light or wait and hope you get through when the light isn't flashing.  Now you have some moron at the front of the line doing whatever it is that morons do in the car when they are not paying attention and doesn't go in a timely fashion. This results in only 1-2 cars going.  Frustrations mounts.  People start to take risks and drive more stupidly than normal (which is hard to believe!).
   If you have ever been to any American city, they all have equal turning lanes for all traffic lights.  Everyone knows that they will get a turn and no one needs to run the light or take foolish risks to make a left turn.  Everyone get the same amount of time, every time.  Why the fuck can't Edmonton or Sherwood Park do that?  Are they smarter than we are? Gawd I hope not.  That would be almost impossible.  But Americans know how to move traffic. Canadians are idiots when it comes to moving traffic.  That is the only explanation that I can come up with.
    Along with the traffic lights, there is a little problem I see with the pedestrian walk/don't walk signs in Edmonton.  WTF is up with the countdown at the corner?  The waking sign says don't walk, but they put a little count down on it.  Now as a driver I can see this being helpful to me, as I can see when the light is really going to change.  But as for the pedestrian, it's a do whatever you want until the countdown is over message.  Cross walks seem like an easy thing.  If you use either words or signs, you use walk or don't walk, or walk and a hand up to signal don't walk. What is difficult about that?  If the hand is up, you don't walk. If is says walk ... you walk.  That's not fucking hard at all. But when you put a countdown into the mix, you open it up for all the idiots, morons, criminals, illiterates and ingrates who don't want to follow the simple rules and laws of our society.  If you don't follow the walk/don't walk it screws up traffic to no end. Cars turning right can't turn because people think that it is alright to enter the crosswalk when there is any number left on the countdown.  Then they meander through the intersection stopping traffic.
    Let me set the scenario: the crosswalk has a hand up telling the literate or intelligent not to walk. But... there is a countdown and here comes Kurt Cobain sauntering down the street.  He sees the countdown still has number on it so he naturally enters the intersection. Why?  Because he wants to!  Now he goes into cool mode and starts to walk slowly.  Could it be because the sideways baseball cap is too tight on his pea head, or maybe it is because his baggy-assed jeans are hanging so low that he is able to take only six inch strides with his 'skater' shoes?  Might it be that he can only walk four step without checking his cell phone to get that important twitter message that his girl friend just boiled eggs all by her self?  Who knows?  Meanwhile the traffic; that had the right of way, is stopped waiting for Cobain to get through the intersection.  The light changes and he still hasn't finished going through the crosswalk, making all traffic stopped.   And I am sitting there wanted to hit someone with a baseball bat!
    
    

Oh N-Oden!

   I was saddened last night by the news that Greg Oden was injured again and would miss this entire season after having microfracture surgery on his left knee on Friday. This will be his second round with microfracture surgery, after having it on his right knee before his rookie year.  In between he cracked his kneecap and then fractured his left patella missing most of last season. He had played his only year at 'THE Ohio State' (WFT is that about?)  shooting with his left hand after breaking his right wrist before the season had begun.  After being the number one draft choice in the 2007 NBA draft, Oden has played 82 total games, the equivalent on one full season.
    Why the hell do I care?  Well, because I am a sap for high draft choices.  I always want them to succeed.  I started following drafts when I was about 16 years old.  I remember sitting in the locker room at my high school and listened to the news at lunch time concerning the NHL draft (They played the radio at lunch time).  For some Gawd awful  reason the Philadelphia Flyers drafted Rick McCleish ahead of Bobby Clarke and Reggie Leach.  Who the hell was Rick McCleish?  I had never heard of him and Clarke and Leach were two of the greatest junior hockey players ever produced in the Western Junior Hockey League.  I was hooked.  From then on I followed every draft that I could.  NHL, NBA, MLB and NFL.  I don't care, I love mock drafts.  I love reading about the players to be drafted.  I have a collection of most drafts back to about 1970 in most of the sports.  I occasionally look at them, evaluate the outcomes and think about what ifs (yes I am that big of a loser!).  I still try to remember the players drafted in order from specific drafts.  It helps me to sleep at night.  To hell with counting sheep!
    The first overall draft choice is someone who is always a marked man in his sport. How that player produces is something that will spark conversation and debate for many, many years.  Just look at the amount of talk that has gone on through the years since the Portland Trailblazers drafted Sam Bowie instead of Michael Jordan in 1984.  I'm still talking about, well at least electronically.
    Oden's injury plagued career will always look much, much worse because Kevin Durrant was drafted second that year and at the age of twenty-two he is, in my opinion, the best player in the league. He is in fact everything that LBJ is not: humble, hard-working, without an entourage, and willing to stay in the place he was drafted (I have never heard him say he was 'all about winning').  The Portland Trailblazer fans must throw up every time they look in the papers and see that Durrant went for another 35 points in a victory, while Oden hobbles off to surgery again.
  Of coarse I wrote yesterday about a certain top overall pick in the NBA that I don't care to follow but usually I love to follow young players with great potential.  When Steven Stauburg was injured this fall while pitching for the Washington Senators, I was particularly disappointed.  He had proven that in his short MLB career that he was going to be special.  Now... who knows if he will ever return from elbow surgery.  Some do, some don't.  I have even started to watch the Oilers after over twenty years of disinterest, due to the fact that they are loaded with young talent.  Taylor Hall reminds me so much of a combination of Mark Messier and Glen Anderson. How his talent and abilities will develop and progress is anyone's guess.  That is what is great about youth, talent and drafts: the unknown.  Maybe Taylor Hall will lead the Oilers back to the promise land.  Greg Oden was supposed to lead Portland to a championship. With both knees totally screwed, that seems very unlikely.
     I read on espn.com when Greg Oden was drafted that when he walked across the room, he walked like an 80 year old man.  He had none of the grace and athleticism that most NBA basketball players possess.  The writer said Kevin Durrant floated across the room while Oden shuffled.  Maybe Portland should have given him the walking test before they drafted him.
   Oh well who's next?  There is always someone...

"I'm All About Winning... REALLY?

    I love the new favorite sports term for the 21st century.  "You know me.. I'm all about winning".  WTF does that mean?  If I hear that one more time I will throw up all over my bubble.  I don't remember Larry Bird, Magic Johnson, Michael Jordan, Tim Duncan, Bill Russell, Kevin McHale or a litany of other players who have actually earned multiple championships, utter those words. And the reason was because they were out practicing.  Today's superficial superstars and divas love to talk the talk but they don't do anything substantial to win.
   Thank God I was in Macedonia this summer; incommunicado, so I didn't have to put up with 'the decision'.  I am sure that LBJ uttered those brilliant words somewhere along the way.  My question is; if he is 'all about winning', why doesn't he spend a little more time working on a jump shot instead of traversing the world with his entourage, wearing his hat sideways, trying to become a global celebrity?  If he was 'all about winning' why didn't he stick with the hand he was dealt and make them champions.  Other than Magic Johnson, most of those players I have named started out with bad teams and turned them into NBA champions.  What did LBJ do when things didn't work our for him? Well; first off, he folded the fucking tent last year in the playoffs.  There's a great example of someone who's 'all about winning'.  Could you ever imagine Michael Jordan folding the tent in a game, albeit February in Minnesota or in the NBA playoffs?  He would have fucking killed someone before he would have done that.  Maybe LBJ and his 'all about winning' motto was already working on that tremendously well choreographed TV special that he blessed us with.  Perhaps working on that jumper a little more and the dancing a little less would bring that win that he's' all about!'
    LBJ is easily the most gifted athlete to ever play the game. A physique like that come along once in a lifetime.  He is a marvel.  His all round basketball skills are fantastic.  He can do everything except make a consistent jump shot.  Have you watched him on the wing?  I have never seen anyone run like that.  Could you imagine him playing wide receiver or tight end in the NFL?  However;  he is the perfect example of the 21st century athlete.  He has been a diva since he was a pre-teenager.  He has been so gifted that everyone has kissed his ass and told him how great he is forever.  He is all fluff and no substance.  As of yet, despite all his admiral physical skills, he is without  a ring.  It took MJ six years to win a championship and the difference is that he stuck with his team and won.  What did LBJ do?  He runs away and tries to literally buy himself a championship.  But he's 'all about winning'... right?
    The other superstar that lights me up on this subject is Allan Iverson.  Mr. Practice.  Here was another incredibly physically talented player who just didn't get it.  No one, and I mean no one who has ever played the game had the quickness of AI; and quickness is the single most important physical skill in basketball.  If you look  up the definition of blow by, there will be a picture of AI. He always claimed that he was 'all about winning'.  Really?  And how exactly can you claim that when you don't go to practice; or when you are there, you don't work hard?  I will give him all the credit in the world for being a tough SOB on the court.  He got knocked down a million times and he jumped up and played hard.  But that doesn't make him 'all about winning'.  If he really cared he would have spent a little time in the gym working on that crappy jump shot of his, or in the weight room instead of the tattoo parlor.  Without practice, how exactly are you going to improve? How are you going to develop the cohesiveness and teamwork you need on defense?  Or the camaraderie forged by the hard work of practice?  I guess mister 'all about winning' thinks those traits of a winner will just fall out of the sky and hit him on his tattooed ass.
   The 21st century athlete wants everything to go their way.  Not only do they think that they are entitled to the obscene amounts of money they receive, but also that they are entitled to winning without paying the price of hard times.
    LBJ: what do we want you to do?  How about prove that you are a winner instead of telling us that you are 'all about winning'.  That would be a good start.

P.S.  Now that AI is 'all about winning'... in Turkey, maybe he can put in a good word for TFT and get him a job in the T.B.A.

Turkoglu

Who exactly told Hedo Turkoglu that he is a great player, because his every movement gives you the impression that he thinks he is great?
   I am watching the Phoenix/Denver game tonight and my wife asked me if that is really his name.  I asked her what she was talking about and she said that I always call him "That Fucking Turkoglu" (Known as TFT, from now on).  She is right; I always call him that because he fucks everything up.
   I talk to myself.  When you live in a bubble, who else is there to talk to?  My wife doesn't like sports, so when I watch games on T.V. I vocalize my thoughts.  My dear wife has heard me call him that name many, many times.  We used to get pretty much every Raptor game last year and he was horrible.  He came from Orlando thinking that he was  going to be the star of the Raptors and lead them to glory.  What a joke.  
  Now I will admit that he has some nice offensive skills; such as handling the ball, passing and occasionally he gets in a streak from behind the arc. Like a former assistant coach of mine (in name only!) used to say about one of our players, "She a great shooter; when she's hot, she never misses." Duh.  Isn't everyone a great shooter when they are hot? The problem is that she was only hot two games out of ten.  That's TFT.  He is occasionally hot and he thinks he is a great shooter, so he shoots all the time.  Shall we should explore why he is open and gets a lot of looks from behind the arc?  Could it be because the other teams let him shoot?  Dean Smith had a tall stiff from Germany named Zwikker who took an ill advised shot.  When coach Smith mentioned that it wasn't a very good shot, Serge said "But coach, I was wide open."  Coach Smith replied that maybe while he sat on the bench he should consider why the other team left him wide open.  By the way, I did not know that tuna came from Germany, but Zwikker proves that it does.
  The most success TFT had was when he was surrounded by star players that the other team had to guard, leaving TFT wide open most of the time.  Wouldn't you rather have TFT shoot 3's as opposed to Dwight Howard dunking every shot?  Or perhaps teams would rather have TFT shoot scud missiles from outside rather than let Chris Weber or Vlad Divac score from two feet.  Yes he made the occasional big shot but let's not confuse him with great money players in the NBA. Remember the old saying, "You throw enough shit enough against the wall, some of it will stick." TFT puts up a lot of shit!

    Despite some offensive skills,  he has so many holes in his game it is not funny. Have you watched him try to play defense?  Last year the Raptors had no chance when the games were close.  Every team would simply get TFT's man to run screen roll and it was either a basket, a foul or both.  You put TFT with Calderon and it was laughable.  Calderon, the Prince look-alike,  can't guard a fucking fence post and he is ten times the defender TFT is.  When the other team ran screen roll against TFT and Calderon, it was kiddies day at the fair.  Then TFT would come down and try to be the hero and win the game by over-handling the ball and shooting a shot that had absolutely no chance of going in.  Granted not every player wants to take those last second, game on the line shots, but just because you want to take the shot doesn't mean that you should.
    TFT had a lot of nerve to whine his way out of Toronto, as if it was an organization problem that made him bad.  No, no, no. You are bad Turkoglu.  Now you are bringing down Phoenix. I hope your next team is the Istanbul Invaders of the T. B. A.