RIP Carl Pohlad

Carl Pohlad has been a very polarizing figure in recent Minnesota sports history. On the one hand, he was the owner during the 1987 and 1991 world championships, the only professional sports titles of our current franchises. On the other hand, he has been known as a rather stingy owner, despite being one of the wealthiest owners in professional sports.

I know that Minnesota is not the biggest market in professional sports, but we have very loyal fans and support our teams (when they deserve support…I’m lookin’ at you wolves)

Side note- I would like to declare to the world that I lost a bet on the wolves, when they were up by 26 in the late second quarter. The sad part was, we decided it was a completely legitimate bet at the time. They ended up losing by 7. Every Jason Terry uncontested 3 pointer from the corner was a dagger into my heart (but I digress)

So what was I talking about? Oh yeah- The twins. It will be interesting to see what the new direction of the twins will be. We still will try to develop our own talent. I am fine with that, because it is a cost-effective way to bring up young stars, and we have an excellent scouting team that seem to always find needles in a haystack. But, one thing I would like to see us do is do is make that killer move in the offseason/before the trading deadline.

If we are in contention, we can afford to move a couple of prospects maybe once every 4-5 years to try to make it all the way. I feel like we have just been one free agent splash away from being a serious contender instead of a nice story (But, we do have the assassin, R.A. Dickey aka “Bearded Jesus” to lead us to the promised land now!!).

I love knuckleballs

Banks is Back in Black Friday

More Wild Times in the Life of the Infamous Mr. Banks:

Mr. Banks was an ordinary man, nothing more, nothing less. It was 5 o’clock, and he was up, no surprises. But, today he had not arisen to pacify his boss, Mr. Brooks. Today, he was up for a far more sinister task indeed. His stomach still ached from overuse, and he had seen more of his wife’s lovely family than he cared to see.

They had a way of being too nice, too caring. He always felt like such a jerk by comparison. Dave, her brother, told us of the hospital he was building in Nigeria. He talked with his hands, too much so, Banks recalled. It was as though he were pitching the hospital on an infomercial. As ridiculous African-hospital infomercial catch phrases ran through his head, he recalled that was up to do his wife’s bidding once more, namely to catch the bargains only the day after Thanksgiving had to offer.

He shaved, out of habit, not even realizing the act in his early morning trance. “God save me, this is going to be a rough day,” Banks grumbled to himself as his old floorboards moaned beneath him. Not completely dry from his rather hasty shower, he glared at his wife’s sleeping body, still not fully knowing how he had been conned in to this ridiculous task.

He carefully avoided the minefield of toys his daughters had thoughtfully left for him as he made his way out to his car. It was a hybrid, of course, the Mrs. had just picked up; saving the world. Banks hated the wretched thing. It’s artificial whine was cumbersome, but the worst was the conversations that ensued with complete strangers. He did not want their thanks for his selfless act. He did not want to share how he obtained it. He missed his old sedan. Sure, it was nothing flashy, but damn it did it purr.

When he arrived at the mall, people were already jockeying for position. It was embarrassing. A fat man in a tattered ACDC shirt near the front seemed to be doing a fantastic job of fending people off though. He had his wheaties today, maybe even the guy on the box, Banks chuckled. He did not understand the mob mentality this day created. People so anxious to throw their money away on gifts they don’t need for a holiday they don’t understand.
What did that make him? He was here. I guess it made him a guy that did not want to be hassled, Banks reasoned. His wife seemed to have a way with words that managed to both defy logic, but be incredibly persuasive and irrefutable.

After the caged beasts were released as the bell struck six, Banks sauntered towards the toy department, where he carefully plucked his pre-meditated selections off the shelves. He strolled around the store, invincible to the panic around him, and made his way out after he had paid.
He walked past an old man getting out of his handicap space. He appeared to be in good health. Was being old a handicap? Had he simply earned that spot through his longevity? Banks brainstormed ways to obtain a handicap permit as he entered his hybrid, and headed home, hopefully, for some much needed rest.

Thoughts from a Chaotic Mind

I am convinced that chapstick’s business model is predicated entirely upon consumer carelessness. Has anyone actually ever ran out of chapstick? They are making untold sums of money because their chapstick is so obnoxiously easy to lose.

Does anyone feel childish when saying the Lord’s Prayer in church? Why must it end in “forever and ever” I must say I prefer the “now and forever” ending tenfold. Really? We are going with forever and ever? Are we going to watch sesame street after the prayer too?

Why did the twins re-sign Nick Punto? Why???? Here is a career .250 hitter, with a 1.82/1 strikeout to walk ratio. Not only that, but he has 140 career RBI’s…Career! I am so upset I have to watch 2 more years of head-first dives into first I might cry.

So…who’s going to be the villain for the next Batman movie? Harvey Dent is dead, Heath Ledger is dead, and his performance as Joker is going to be impossible to follow. It cannot be said enough how awesome he was. Such a far cry from his usual work, he was the best villain in any movie, ever.

The cartoon “Ballard Street” is not funny. Every cartoon is a slap in the face to my intellect, and to every person that is exposed to this on a weekly basis in the Star Trib’s variety section. I think Jerry Van Amerongen kind of wants to be a cross between F Minus and The Far Side, but is a swing and a miss at every level. Please stop making cartoons Jerry. Please stop.

What?

The Name is Bland, James Bland

I must say, I am supremely disappointed with the direction the James Bond franchise is going. Growing up with Pierce Brosnan as Bond has given me certain criteria for what makes James Bond great. He is suave, sophisticated, polished, charming and smart. He need not outmuscle what he can outwit and outmaneuver. But whoever is writing the current James Bond plots needs to go.

The supporters of the new bond over the old bond seem to be preaching that this new bond is better because it is “realistic.” The problem with that is that James Bond is not meant to be a realistic franchise. In real life one British guy is not taking down elaborate plots to destroy the world with a couple of gadgets and a silenced pistol. But he always does and we love it. This new bond manages to combine atrocious plots with unrealistic sequences, and then follow it up with dialogue that would make The Drew Carey Show seem witty.

The Daniel Craig “chip on my shoulder” Bond is not Bond. It is not the way it was meant to be. I was trying to figure out what his half confused half angry look reminded me of, and it came to me. The look is the exact same as the look Paul Walker uses in roughly every scene in “The Fast and the Furious."

( I am tempted to make several ONE LOOK Zoolander references right now, but I will refrain, I might not be able to stop if I get started)

Furthermore, the plot of “Quantum of Solace” was quite simply appalling. They use the “Oh by the way, did we mention the guy Bond nabbed from the last movie was actually innocent?” cop out and do not elaborate at all, which was frustrating. The girl in this movie was a slap in the face to audiences everywhere. Here is her role in the plot as I see it. Her jerk-off boyfriend tries to have her killed and fails, she comes back to confront him, where he gives her up to some sort of Guerrilla leader to be raped and killed. After she escapes, she GOES BACK TO TALK TO HIM AGAIN, where would have thrown her off a balcony if not for the timely Bond. Wow. Talk about an ridiculous plot. Just wow.

But, my all time favorite scene of the movie is near the end where Bond has just saved that girl who was being assaulted by the aforementioned Guerrilla leader/dictator (whoever he was). So that guy is dead, and she is obviously traumatized, so Bond decides to have a touching moment where he comforts her for a good 15 seconds. Here’s the problem… THE BUILDING IS ON FIRE. This is no time to aid those in morning, Run! Get the f%#@ out of there! (this is a family-friendly page) The building is on fire.

For the sake of my sanity I will not elaborate on the awful chase scene where bond eludes fighter jets with the plane built by the Wright brothers, and other equally annoying scenes, and concede that the Pierce is not coming back, and that the Bond franchise will continue to make more and more money even as the movies get worse and worse.

James Bond's new plane of choice

Next Year Can't Come Quickly Enough

Being the hopeless homer optimist that I am when it comes to Minnesota sports teams, I wrote a piece about the possible excitement and buzz that this Timberwolves team could create this year. Sure, they were not going to be a legitimate title contender. But I felt that it would at the bare minimum be a season with young talent on the court. I though we would be able to watch them slowly begin to gel and get a better feel for what it takes to be a winner as a professional basketball player. I thought at the very least an entertaining product would be put on the court day in and day out.

I was wrong.

Watching a Timberwolves game is like watching animal planet. You watch the gazelle try to cross the river. You know that isn’t a log, but rather a crocodile. You yell at your TV, and try to warn the gazelle. You plead with the gazelle to listen to your cries. A part of you truly thinks the gazelle will evade the savvy and patient croc’s awaiting jaws. But, in the end the crocodile does get a meal, and the wolves do lose the game.

The 4-23 record of the fighting Al Jefferson’s is disheartening unto itself, however other factors are rubbing salt in my wounds. First of all I would like to officially declare unto the world a list of players we could still have and if we had a GM that did not get a secret lobotomy (it’s my new theory), probably would still have. I have taken the liberty of placing the player that was kept/received instead in parenthesis. Please bear with me, I know this is painful, but it’s for the good of all…the first step is acceptance.
Ray Allen (Stephon Marbury)
Chauncey Billups (the corpse of Troy Hudson)
Kevin Garnett (Al Jefferson, Ryan Gomes, and others who must not be named)
Josh Howard (Ndudi Ebi)
Brandon Roy (Randy Foye and 1 million dollars no doubt used on hard alcohol to “stop the hurt”)
O.J. Mayo, Marko Jaric’s bloated contract (3 very white guys)
5 first round draft picks (Joe Smith and a shady “1 year contract”)

Look at all the talent that has slipped through our collective fingers… I feel like all the Wolves fans should band together for a huge A.A.-like meeting to nurse our 20 years of frustrations.

“Hi I’m Jake…and I’ve been a T-Wolves fan for about 20 years now… and I am still haunted by Tom Gugliotta’s barbed wire tattoo
“We’re here for you Jake”

A second, even more melancholy note is that the wolves play a more disheveled game than that most high school teams. Rashad McCants keeps getting significant minutes despite mistaking basketball for a game of hot potato. “I don’t want the ball, I’ll just throw it at the rim 11 times then go home to the lesser Kardashian sister”. There are batting averages higher than McCants and Seabass Telfair’s FG% (.344 and .307 respectively) Joe Mauer should not be able to hit 87 mph sliders more efficiently

than these chuckers can hit a jump shot. By the way, has the barbed wire ever been in style? I'm leaning towards no.

But, the single most appalling, egregious, outrageous (insert Johnny Cochrane adjective here) aspect of the Wolves is that we still insist on allowing people like Brian Cardinal, Mark Madsen, and Kevin Ollie to log significant minutes. These men would not be getting minutes for the Golden Gophers right now, so why let them play with the big boys? Nobody is paying hard earned money to see a Kevin Ollie pull up jumper in traffic, so let’s just quietly buy out their contracts and forget they ever happened…agree? (Please, if there is a god agree)

join me in counting down the days till the draft, where we can see how the Wolves will blow it this time around.

Give'em a wolves uniform too, what's the worst that could happen?

7 Simple Rules for a Better America

Barack Obama ran a campaign on the principle of change. I, too have some changes that I believe need to be made to improve our great nation.

(Note: This picture will make sense to you in a bit, please help us try to find him a new home)

1) Regis Philbin gets a new game show every 4-6 weeks no questions asked. I can’t control the volume of my voice! Its gonna be huge! He is unequivocally the greatest host ever. He could make an episode of According to Jim watchable.

2) Gus Johnson gives the play by play of every major sporting event effective immediately. Once, when watching an NCAA tournament game last year, a white guy from Maine whom Gus affectionately dubbed the “White Lobster” hit a couple of threes, and Gus screeched, “The White Lobster….Is COOKIN’!!” I wanted to cry right there it was so beautiful. If you are still not convinced check out this quick youtube video of him calling the end of a Gonzaga game where he may or may not have needed a new lung shortly thereafter.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sgeqrYxu_YM

3) Public tarring and feathering will become commonplace again after everyone has so much fun watching Rosie O’Donnell get publicly humiliated by someone besides herself for a change. Also spontaneous “anti-redcoat” mobs will be formed to trick Dick Clark into thinking he’s a teenager again... Dick Clark is really old.

4) The guy that Dick Cheney shot in the face gets to have 1 “shoot Dick Cheney in the face” for free pass that he can use at any time. Afterwords, Dick must apologize to the shooter for being shot in the face, and promise that he, Dick Cheney, will not get shot in the face ever again.

5) Tom Delonge is banished to a Leper Colony for starting the unbearable band, Angels and Airwaves, and provided with the world’s biggest mirror so he can spend the rest of his days staring at what he believes to be God’s gift to this planet.

"I love myself so much it hurts sometimes!"

6) Any kid who plays basketball in jeans will be kicked off that team and his/her parents will lose custody of said child for allowing this to happen.

7) And finally, Mel Gibson is forced to celebrate Hanukkah every year. I would love to see the tension develop every day of celebration as his mind fills with anti-Semitic remarks directly beneath an awkwardly placed yarmulke.

I know the world would be a much better place with these simple rules being implemented.

Its Tubby Time

Can I just start by saying I remain in disbelief that the University of Minnesota attracted such a high profile coach as Tubby Smith? I am forever grateful towards the backwards, impatient, incest-laden (too mean?) fan base of the Kentucky Wildcats. I am still pinching myself. Thank you so much for dumping a hall of fame coach on a whim. When I heard the news I had a Bobby Jackson/Sam Jacobson inspired flashback of the glory days of old.

I consider myself to be a relatively passionate Minnesota sports fan, so the Dan Monson era was particularly nauseating. I think his sideline presence could be roughly equated to that of that teacher whose class you just dreaded going to growing up. You know what I mean, the one where the only relief in going to it was that at least you got to sit down for the duration. And you would try to find the simplest joys to get through that time. Like, “Yes I am officially loaded with 0.7 mm pencil lead”, or “That doodle totally looks like Rebecca Romijn-Stamos” That was kind of what the players looked like as they trudged over to the bench for every time out. They really just looked forward to sitting down, followed by their stares glazing over, followed by occasional nodding to imply understanding.

But no more! Today, there is a Tub full of excitement in the Barn (I thoroughly apologize for this pun, I know it’s awful, I…I just can’t help myself sometimes…) There is a hope from a fan base desperate for any semblance of hope. I love watching this team play. Colton Iverson and Ralph Sampson III are legit big men that will only get better as they start to shed their freshman jitters and grow into their bodies. Al Nolen is scary quick, often times beating people to the hoop already sagging off of him by 4 or 5 feet. We also have a seemingly limitless supply of capable shooting guards and forwards that Tubby can rotate in and out as he pleases, often times going 10 or 11 men deep as the game progresses.

The great thing is, this is not a fluke. Tubby is a proven recruiter and game planner. He has the team buying into his ball hawking/help side defensive scheme. He also has kept the two best in-state prospects for the 2009 recruiting class, in the freakishly athletic Rodney Williams and the solid Royce White, landing us a top 10 recruiting class. I cannot fathom this team not being a Bracket Buster for as long as Tubby decides to grace us with his presence. For every blood vessel that pops every Vikings game I watch, for every ulcer that is forthcoming due to Sebastian “Seabass” Telfair’s biological need to turn the ball over, I have Tubby. In Tubby we trust.