The general opinion going around is that the Toronto Blue Jays up and fleeced the Marlins in their recent massive trade and, in terms immediate baseball talent, they probably did. And while it will be the most anticipated season in recent memory for Jays fans, I can't help but get an uneasy feeling this trade may come and bite the team in the ass down the road as I look more into it.
First off, the centrepiece of the deal is generally considered to be Jose Reyes, an All Star shortstop and, admittedly, fairly exciting player to watch. He's been a great player in the past, getting on base at a good but not great clip, and had plus plus speed a few years ago but due to decline and injuries, probably only possesses plus speed at this point. Arguably the most talented player in the trade, there is no doubt he will contribute significantly over the next few years.
But here's the problem....since Reyes signed a backloaded contract last year with the Marlins, $66 million of his $106 million contract is paid out over his age 32 to 34 seasons. $10 million was paid out last year, which means the Marlins got one year of him at under market value, which also means that the contract will be over market value down the road. And considering middle infielders don't age graciously (Jays fans may remember when Robbie Alomar fell off a cliff as a Met) paying Jose Reyes $22 million as a 33 year old might severely limit the Jays roster flexibility in a few years.
Now, one could make an argument that Josh Johnson is the most talented player in the trade (and considering the importance of starting pitcher, he may be the most important to the success of the Jays next year). However, he has one year at $13.75 mil left on his deal and then hits the open market. And his agent has made it known he has every intention of testing that open market. So the Jays are only getting one year out of Johnson and, given his injury history, this may only result in 10-15 starts.
And this is where it starts getting ugly. Mark Buehrle used to be a pretty solid pitcher. And while he's not terrible, he's not much more than a decent 4th starter that doesn't miss any bats at this point in his career. Useful, for sure. However, due to the backloaded contract he signed last year with Miami (notice a trend starting?), he's due to make $19 million as a 34 year old and $20 million as a 35 year old. $20 million for an aging number 4 pitcher that can't strike anybody out is a steep price.
John Buck has been terrible the last two years after a flukey season in TO a couple years ago. If the Jays are playing him regularly, they have issues, which means John Buck is not much more than a $6.5 million bullpen catcher.
Finally, Emilio Bonifacio is a utility infielder with good speed but not a whole lot else. He's under team control for the next couple seasons and, while useful and reasonably cost effective, he's not going to be a star and probably shouldn't start on a contending team.
So, while the Jays definitely got some big names and talented players, their value is not exactly through the roof. In fact, the only players they got whose contracts are under market value is a pending UFA (Johnson) and a utility infielder (Bonifacio). Meanwhile Buck and Buehrle are woefully overpaid and Reyes will probably end up being overpaid.
Meanwhile, they didn't give up a stack of nobodies. Yunel Escobar may be a head case, but he's also a pretty serviceable middle infielder with a reasonable contract. Hechevarria and Alvarez both look to be useful guys under team control for the next few years but probably won't make the Jays regret making the trade. Jake Marisnick is a bit of a boom or bust prospect that could make the Jays regret this trade down the road and turn into a perennial all star....or he could be Andy Marte. Justin Nicolino is a hard throwing lefty and everyone loves hard throwing lefties, while DeScalfani is a bit far off to accurately project but looks like a potential end of rotation starter. I'm not sure why the Marlins wanted Jeff Mathis.
If you consider things in terms of monetary value, the Marlins made out pretty good here. Hell, they might have won. In exchange for a bunch of players getting paid what they deserve (or more), they got some interesting/useful young players getting paid less than what they're worth. And if you look at it further, two key pieces of the trade weren't even on the Marlins roster last year. They signed Reyes and Buerhle as free agents last year, backloaded their contracts, got one season out of each at under market value, realized they weren't a contender, packaged those two players along with an impending UFA and got a package of 4 or 5 decent to good prospects. That's the kind of shit you used to be able to pull off in GM mode in video games 10 years ago before they adjusted the AI to prevent that shit.
If Jeffery Loria wasn't Jeffrey Loria, this might look like a genius series of moves. But Jeffrey Loria is a cunt and, when you look at the way things have played out, it seems to point to the following series of events:
1.) Jeffrey Loria convinces dumbass Florida politicians to build him brand new stadium, promising to increase payroll and cease firesales in the future. Dumbass Florida politicians believe him, despite the fact he's fucking Jeffrey Loria.
2.) Jeffrey Loria gets brand new, mostly publicly financed stadium despite being a piece of shit. Jeffrey Loria proceeds to make good on his initial promise and sign a bunch of players to above market value contracts. Two keys to each contract: there aren't any no trade clauses and all the contracts are significantly backloaded.
3.) Marlins flounder some out of the gate. Jeffrey Loria, going back on his promise, starts the fire sale, trading Hanley Ramirez and Heath Bell during the season.
4.) Marlins then dump rest of team in trade to Toronto Blue Jays in the offseason. Without no trade clauses and the backloaded contracts, Jeffrey Loria was able to create the illusion of spending, with no risk, and really only being out $24 million, which is a small price to pay for a brand new $634 million stadium. Now their top two highest paid players are Ricky Nolasco ($11.5 mil) and Yunel Escobar ($5 mil).
5.) Jeffrey Loria sits in brand new, publicly built stadium, collecting revenue sharing cheques and spending the least he can on payroll, making asstons of money to his personal account in the process.
6.) Hopefully dumbass politicians that trusted Jeffrey Loria don't get re-elected.
Granted, none of this may matter much to Jays fans if the Jays were to make a World Series run, as the time to strike is probably now. However, if they don't make some sort of run this year or next, expect another 5 or 6 years of trademark Blue Jays mediocrity.
As for Marlins fans........well.....I guess Jeffrey Loria has to die at some point.
Monday, 19 November 2012
Monday, 15 October 2012
Brad's Beardless NHL Lockout Protest: Day 30
I'm officially putting Gary Bettman on notice.
I don't even miss hockey anymore. In fact, if Bettman had any brains, he'd fucking get that CBA figured out immediately because at this point, I don't even know if I need hockey.
I'm on Day 15 of my George St-Pierre workout. And I'm making that shit work, baby! I'm on such a roll that I think hockey might just end up getting in the way of my cagefighter training.
Furthermore, my cagefighter training is rubbing off on other aspects of my life. My vastly improved balance, weight loss and general conditioning has improved my curling game several times over. I was such a dominant force during my first game of the year that we stopped keeping score after the 2nd end! BOOM! POW!
And I feel fucking awesome. Full of energy. Shit....I don't even realize I've stayed an hour late at work until someone mentions it....then I'm all like "Well shit...I gotta go home and Rushfit the hell out of everything."
And the other day I had a plate of broccoli for supper. Broccoli. Me!!! WTF!?!?!
But what really has me thinking we don't need hockey was watching Felix Baumgartner, the baddest badass in awesometown take a balloon up to 128,000 feet and then JUMPING THE FUCK OUT!!! If we had this kind of shit going on all the time, we wouldn't care about hockey and football and stuff.
I actually ended up watching the ascent, all two and a half hours, instead of watching my beloved NFL. And I didn't regret a moment of it. There was the badassness of the whole thing. There was Science! running amok all over everything. There was some pretty cool engineering. And I was fully prepared to be let down when he finally did jump. I thought that there was no way it would be as awesome as I hoped. But I found myself fully captivated as Felix ran through his final checklist, popped the door open and looked out onto the abyss that man was about to make his bitch. And it WAS EVERY MOMENT AS AWESOME AS I HOPED!
I honestly think this couldn't have come at a better time. While the political right in the US seems to be waging an all out war against science, education and fancy book learning, slashing scientific research and general education budgets and waging a war of propaganda against all them fancy book learnin' folks with their fancy degrees that don't know nothin' 'bout the troubles of us honest workin' folk, Red Bull Stratos came and bitch slapped all of that shit down with authority. They took Felix Baumgartner, professional badass, that has BASE jumped off Taipei 101 (tallest BASE jump) and the hand of the Christ the Redeemer statue (shortest BASE jump), strapped him aboard a capsule connected to a weather balloon, sent him up and had him jump out, breaking the sound barrier.
But while all this was going on, we got to see how awesome science is. All the engineering work that went into the capsule design. The constant flight path recalculations. The accurate estimates on height, top speed, etc. And the amount of preparation Felix had to do to prepare for the flight. It was awesome and inspiring.
There needs to be more crazy ass awesome fucking shit like this. Way more. And we need to make big media spectacles of this stuff. Because it's GODDAMN COOL and there is all sorts of other cool shit that kids watching this could aspire to be. So let's do more of this shit. We'll get Neil Degrasse Tyson involved. If it takes a bunch more of the sweet Red Bull money, so be it. Because society can only become a better place if we're watching more Red Bull Stratos and less Big Bang Theory or The Bachelor. Shit, I wouldn't even need to watch hockey anymore.
You hear that Gary Bettman?
I don't even miss hockey anymore. In fact, if Bettman had any brains, he'd fucking get that CBA figured out immediately because at this point, I don't even know if I need hockey.
I'm on Day 15 of my George St-Pierre workout. And I'm making that shit work, baby! I'm on such a roll that I think hockey might just end up getting in the way of my cagefighter training.
Furthermore, my cagefighter training is rubbing off on other aspects of my life. My vastly improved balance, weight loss and general conditioning has improved my curling game several times over. I was such a dominant force during my first game of the year that we stopped keeping score after the 2nd end! BOOM! POW!
And I feel fucking awesome. Full of energy. Shit....I don't even realize I've stayed an hour late at work until someone mentions it....then I'm all like "Well shit...I gotta go home and Rushfit the hell out of everything."
And the other day I had a plate of broccoli for supper. Broccoli. Me!!! WTF!?!?!
But what really has me thinking we don't need hockey was watching Felix Baumgartner, the baddest badass in awesometown take a balloon up to 128,000 feet and then JUMPING THE FUCK OUT!!! If we had this kind of shit going on all the time, we wouldn't care about hockey and football and stuff.
I actually ended up watching the ascent, all two and a half hours, instead of watching my beloved NFL. And I didn't regret a moment of it. There was the badassness of the whole thing. There was Science! running amok all over everything. There was some pretty cool engineering. And I was fully prepared to be let down when he finally did jump. I thought that there was no way it would be as awesome as I hoped. But I found myself fully captivated as Felix ran through his final checklist, popped the door open and looked out onto the abyss that man was about to make his bitch. And it WAS EVERY MOMENT AS AWESOME AS I HOPED!
I honestly think this couldn't have come at a better time. While the political right in the US seems to be waging an all out war against science, education and fancy book learning, slashing scientific research and general education budgets and waging a war of propaganda against all them fancy book learnin' folks with their fancy degrees that don't know nothin' 'bout the troubles of us honest workin' folk, Red Bull Stratos came and bitch slapped all of that shit down with authority. They took Felix Baumgartner, professional badass, that has BASE jumped off Taipei 101 (tallest BASE jump) and the hand of the Christ the Redeemer statue (shortest BASE jump), strapped him aboard a capsule connected to a weather balloon, sent him up and had him jump out, breaking the sound barrier.
But while all this was going on, we got to see how awesome science is. All the engineering work that went into the capsule design. The constant flight path recalculations. The accurate estimates on height, top speed, etc. And the amount of preparation Felix had to do to prepare for the flight. It was awesome and inspiring.
There needs to be more crazy ass awesome fucking shit like this. Way more. And we need to make big media spectacles of this stuff. Because it's GODDAMN COOL and there is all sorts of other cool shit that kids watching this could aspire to be. So let's do more of this shit. We'll get Neil Degrasse Tyson involved. If it takes a bunch more of the sweet Red Bull money, so be it. Because society can only become a better place if we're watching more Red Bull Stratos and less Big Bang Theory or The Bachelor. Shit, I wouldn't even need to watch hockey anymore.
You hear that Gary Bettman?
Tuesday, 2 October 2012
Lockout Protest Day 17: The George St-Pierre Workout Video
I'll admit....I kinda hit a creative lull around Day 10 and stopped blogging my Beardless NHL Lockout Protest....partially because I couldn't think of anything worth posting and partially because I was busy with work and stuff.
But I've still been shaving daily and now I'm back from my sabbatical and ready to kick ass and chew bubblegum.
During my time off, I was able to think of another scheme to try and help force the owners and Gary Bettman into unlocking out the players. Not only will I continue to shave every day, denying the world my precious gift of beard much like NHL owners deny the world the precious gift of hockey, I will also start working out. Regularly. This should scare the shit out of Gary Bettman.
Why?
Because I was entirely prepared to spend any and all evenings in which the Jets played sitting on my ass, on the couch, with a six pack of beer, bag of chips, pizza and getting fat all while establishing a vicious routine of comfort that I would then use to justify watching any sort of NHL, even without the Jets playing, every night of the week. I'd be loyal viewership in that precious male, ages 18-35 demographic that would contribute to ratings and merchandise sales and all sorts of revenue.
But if I establish a workout routine, led by the broken English support and motivation of my new friend George St-Pierre, this introduces way too many variables to my plan. What if I develop a consistent workout routine? What if I crave each workout with a driving passion such that I turn off NHL games to start working out? And, God forbid, what if I start getting in shape and feeling better about myself?
What then?
Maybe I stop eating chips and pizza and start eating carrot sticks and vegetarian, whole wheat pasta. And then I sit down to watch hockey and find myself restless. I mean....this new found self-esteem will get me thinking about all the things I could be doing with my life other than watching hockey. Then I find myself forgetting about hockey entirely, deciding instead to spend my evenings working in a soup kitchen and tutoring underprivileged children with their homework.
GARY BETTMAN.....YOU SICK MONSTER!!!! LOOK WHAT YOU'VE CREATED!!!!!
****
Do you ever wonder what happens when a fat man, such as myself, decides to start up something like George St-Pierre's Rushfit? I'll tell you.
Minute Zero: Alright....time to start this shit. (*Receives text message from co-worker: Brad, want to go for some cold ones at Thirsty Lion?*)
Minute Zero, the Next Day: Okay....this time for real...gonna start some Rushfit. Bring it on, you dirty French surrender monkey. I've been biking 30 K, six days a week for three months. I've been playing hockey. I've been lifting weights and doing situps and stretching. I'm ready for you.
Minute Five (Warm-up Round): Well, this isn't so bad. Breathing hard. Starting to break a bit of a sweat. Haven't pulled anything, which is surprising. Really thought my back would have given out by now. Must be all that biking.
Minute Eight (Warm-up Round, still): I'm going to get through this. I'm going to come in here, Day 1, make Rushfit my bitch and get fucking RIPPED AND JACKED! BOOYEAH! I'm even keeping pace with Mr. World Champion himself.
Minute Ten (End of Warm-up, Real Round 1): Okay. Now for the real deal. I'm sweating, but so is GSP. All this biking has made me a fucking fitness champion. Sure, I'm a bit doughy looking still, but that's just residual fat from years of binge eating and depression. I probably have a six-pack and shit under there. Today I AM A FITNESS CHAMP. What's this? Air squats? Child's play!
Minute 13 (Still Round 1): Man....this is really starting to burn the old leg muscles. I mean....there is some muscle on the outside of my thighs that GODDAMN BURNS LIKE HELL. I don't even know what this muscle is called because I NEVER KNEW IT FUCKING EXISTED BEFORE. Jesus Christ, when are we getting to the core and upper body workouts.
Minute 15 (End of Round 1): DEAR GOD! Thank-you for this 40 second break. Oh, water, precious life-blood of humanity. How you quench mine thirst. You taste so delicious and sacred...I shall never drink any other liquid ever again.
Minute 16 (Round 2): FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY! More goddamn air squats!?!?!?
Minute 17 (Still Round 2): OH FUCK! How the HELL am I supposed to do these goddamn burpee style things when it feels like there is a GODDAMN KNIFE stabbed into the mystery muscle on the side of my GODDAMN THIGH!
.....alright....you're a fucking champ.....you've focused, committed and aren't going to let a little bit of pain fucking let you down. you're mind's still sharp....the spirit is willing.....LET'S FUCKING DO THIS SHIT!
.....goddamn...why can't I do this.....why, leg, won't you push up....my goddamn brain is sending you a fucking signal to push up....i don't care if it burns and you're tired....we're a team and we're fucking champs...it's not like its ripping or tearing or injurious....you're just a GODDAMN PUSSY. PUSH THE FUCK UP!
Minute 18 - 35 (Middle of Round 2 to end of Round 4): Lying in a sweaty heap of fat, out of shape, unathletic patheticness on the floor, wondering how it ever got to this.
Minute 36 (Round 5): Alright.....let's fucking give 'er this last round and call it a success. CHAMPS DON'T QUIT.....
Minute 41 (End of Round 5): Holy shit...made it through that round. FUCK and YES! Completed Day 1. I mean....there are a lot of champs out there that take at least 2/5ths of the game off. I mean, Tom Brady has played in 5 Super Bowls, won 3 of them, and he only plays 50% of the game.
Minute 51 (End of Cooldown): Man....I feel....kinda good. YOU HEAR THAT, BETTMAN! I FEEL GREAT! I'M GOING TO GO AND DO DISHES NOW! AND CLEAN THE BATHROOM! AND TAKE OUT THE GARBAGE! AND RUN ERRANDS! I DON'T NEED HOCKEY!!! I DON'T NEED TV!!!!!!
Oh sweet....Cajun Justice marathon!
But I've still been shaving daily and now I'm back from my sabbatical and ready to kick ass and chew bubblegum.
During my time off, I was able to think of another scheme to try and help force the owners and Gary Bettman into unlocking out the players. Not only will I continue to shave every day, denying the world my precious gift of beard much like NHL owners deny the world the precious gift of hockey, I will also start working out. Regularly. This should scare the shit out of Gary Bettman.
Why?
Because I was entirely prepared to spend any and all evenings in which the Jets played sitting on my ass, on the couch, with a six pack of beer, bag of chips, pizza and getting fat all while establishing a vicious routine of comfort that I would then use to justify watching any sort of NHL, even without the Jets playing, every night of the week. I'd be loyal viewership in that precious male, ages 18-35 demographic that would contribute to ratings and merchandise sales and all sorts of revenue.
But if I establish a workout routine, led by the broken English support and motivation of my new friend George St-Pierre, this introduces way too many variables to my plan. What if I develop a consistent workout routine? What if I crave each workout with a driving passion such that I turn off NHL games to start working out? And, God forbid, what if I start getting in shape and feeling better about myself?
What then?
Maybe I stop eating chips and pizza and start eating carrot sticks and vegetarian, whole wheat pasta. And then I sit down to watch hockey and find myself restless. I mean....this new found self-esteem will get me thinking about all the things I could be doing with my life other than watching hockey. Then I find myself forgetting about hockey entirely, deciding instead to spend my evenings working in a soup kitchen and tutoring underprivileged children with their homework.
GARY BETTMAN.....YOU SICK MONSTER!!!! LOOK WHAT YOU'VE CREATED!!!!!
****
Do you ever wonder what happens when a fat man, such as myself, decides to start up something like George St-Pierre's Rushfit? I'll tell you.
Minute Zero: Alright....time to start this shit. (*Receives text message from co-worker: Brad, want to go for some cold ones at Thirsty Lion?*)
Minute Zero, the Next Day: Okay....this time for real...gonna start some Rushfit. Bring it on, you dirty French surrender monkey. I've been biking 30 K, six days a week for three months. I've been playing hockey. I've been lifting weights and doing situps and stretching. I'm ready for you.
Minute Five (Warm-up Round): Well, this isn't so bad. Breathing hard. Starting to break a bit of a sweat. Haven't pulled anything, which is surprising. Really thought my back would have given out by now. Must be all that biking.
Minute Eight (Warm-up Round, still): I'm going to get through this. I'm going to come in here, Day 1, make Rushfit my bitch and get fucking RIPPED AND JACKED! BOOYEAH! I'm even keeping pace with Mr. World Champion himself.
Minute Ten (End of Warm-up, Real Round 1): Okay. Now for the real deal. I'm sweating, but so is GSP. All this biking has made me a fucking fitness champion. Sure, I'm a bit doughy looking still, but that's just residual fat from years of binge eating and depression. I probably have a six-pack and shit under there. Today I AM A FITNESS CHAMP. What's this? Air squats? Child's play!
Minute 13 (Still Round 1): Man....this is really starting to burn the old leg muscles. I mean....there is some muscle on the outside of my thighs that GODDAMN BURNS LIKE HELL. I don't even know what this muscle is called because I NEVER KNEW IT FUCKING EXISTED BEFORE. Jesus Christ, when are we getting to the core and upper body workouts.
Minute 15 (End of Round 1): DEAR GOD! Thank-you for this 40 second break. Oh, water, precious life-blood of humanity. How you quench mine thirst. You taste so delicious and sacred...I shall never drink any other liquid ever again.
Minute 16 (Round 2): FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY! More goddamn air squats!?!?!?
Minute 17 (Still Round 2): OH FUCK! How the HELL am I supposed to do these goddamn burpee style things when it feels like there is a GODDAMN KNIFE stabbed into the mystery muscle on the side of my GODDAMN THIGH!
.....alright....you're a fucking champ.....you've focused, committed and aren't going to let a little bit of pain fucking let you down. you're mind's still sharp....the spirit is willing.....LET'S FUCKING DO THIS SHIT!
.....goddamn...why can't I do this.....why, leg, won't you push up....my goddamn brain is sending you a fucking signal to push up....i don't care if it burns and you're tired....we're a team and we're fucking champs...it's not like its ripping or tearing or injurious....you're just a GODDAMN PUSSY. PUSH THE FUCK UP!
Minute 18 - 35 (Middle of Round 2 to end of Round 4): Lying in a sweaty heap of fat, out of shape, unathletic patheticness on the floor, wondering how it ever got to this.
Minute 36 (Round 5): Alright.....let's fucking give 'er this last round and call it a success. CHAMPS DON'T QUIT.....
Minute 41 (End of Round 5): Holy shit...made it through that round. FUCK and YES! Completed Day 1. I mean....there are a lot of champs out there that take at least 2/5ths of the game off. I mean, Tom Brady has played in 5 Super Bowls, won 3 of them, and he only plays 50% of the game.
Minute 51 (End of Cooldown): Man....I feel....kinda good. YOU HEAR THAT, BETTMAN! I FEEL GREAT! I'M GOING TO GO AND DO DISHES NOW! AND CLEAN THE BATHROOM! AND TAKE OUT THE GARBAGE! AND RUN ERRANDS! I DON'T NEED HOCKEY!!! I DON'T NEED TV!!!!!!
Oh sweet....Cajun Justice marathon!
Thursday, 27 September 2012
Brad's Beardless NHL Lockout Protest: Day 12
I'd like to note that Day 11 is the day we all lost hope in the NHL resolving their issues in time for a season. Things have moved from mild outrage an exhausted apathy. TSN shamefully threw in the towel and started airing European hockey league highlights. In what I only assume was an attempt to appeal to our nostalgic idea of when hockey existed in a simpler time, TSN has ripped through the '87 Canada Cup and the '72 Summit Series. And Sportsnet...well....nobody watches Sportsnet except when NFL is on and they black out NFL Network.
Now, TSN did air a "What Happened To.." feature on Manon Rheaume. And she's still totally hot and a total milf and I'd definitely bang her, so at least there was that.
In beardless news, I discovered today that my beard is a key component to my water fountain usage at work. When I use the water fountain, any water that doesn't quite get in my mouth now runs down my face, down my chin and drips all over the floor. This is an issue because I like to make long, intense, awkward eye contact with another guy from work who's office window looks directly out at the water fountain. Now, a giant, potentially hazardous, puddle of water forms under the water fountain. With my beard, the water would trap and bead in my beard and safely drip back into the water fountain drain.
Also, since I'm bitter about the lockout and want to be a bitter, angry downer, the following are things that way too many people like that actually suck:
1.) Dane Cook
2.) Big Bang Theory
3.) Mumford & Sons
4.) Srkillex
5.) Russell Peters
Now, TSN did air a "What Happened To.." feature on Manon Rheaume. And she's still totally hot and a total milf and I'd definitely bang her, so at least there was that.
In beardless news, I discovered today that my beard is a key component to my water fountain usage at work. When I use the water fountain, any water that doesn't quite get in my mouth now runs down my face, down my chin and drips all over the floor. This is an issue because I like to make long, intense, awkward eye contact with another guy from work who's office window looks directly out at the water fountain. Now, a giant, potentially hazardous, puddle of water forms under the water fountain. With my beard, the water would trap and bead in my beard and safely drip back into the water fountain drain.
Also, since I'm bitter about the lockout and want to be a bitter, angry downer, the following are things that way too many people like that actually suck:
1.) Dane Cook
2.) Big Bang Theory
3.) Mumford & Sons
4.) Srkillex
5.) Russell Peters
Brad's Beardless NHL Lockout Protest: Day 11
My new goal is to buy an NHL team. I don't even care which one. I'll even buy the Panthers and keep them in Florida move them to Juarez, Mexico if that's what Bettman decides I need to do to get in.
I really only want to do this so I can be the lone dissenting voice amongst the ownership group. Because all we ever hear is how the owners are unified and 100% behind Gary Bettman. Which is BULLSHIT! Just look at True North. You can't tell me they're too happy having a lockout. They made a bunch of money...they have a hockey hungry market with guaranteed revenues for the foreseeable future and they certainly don't want to be disenchanting a shit load of casual fans that got caught up in the hype and hysteria last year. Oh....and one has to imagine a significant chunk of money was freed up from other investments in order to purchase the team last year. That's a lot of money that could be collecting interest or invested into high rate of return investments that is currently tied up in a business making absolutely no money.
All I want is to go all Mark Cuban on everyone's ass and piss the living fuck out of Jeremy Douche Geyser Jacobs and go public saying I don't support Bettman or the other owners.
So, in order to buy an NHL team, I'm gonna need a shitload of cash. And, while I would have been able to pimp myself out to tons of hot bitches and make shitloads of money as a high class manwhore, I currently lack the amazing beard to do so. So this means I need to concoct a crazy money making scheme. So I present to you the Stranglebator 3500!
Now, while I strongly believe stranglebator survival rates showed be determined by some sort of Darwinian function, I'm also a capitalist that isn't going to shy away from a business opportunity when I see one. I have identified that stranglebating is a high risk activity that is in need of adequate safety equipment. Not only do stranglebators risk death each time they get down to business...they also run the even bigger risk of dying while stranglebating and having this information go public. Nobody wants to be the next Michael Hutchence or David Carradine. Remember....when you die is not nearly as important as how you die. And nobody wants to die while simultaneously choking themselves and masturbating.
And this is where the Stranglebator 5000 comes in. I envision it being some sort of quick release mechanism that could be electronically actuated. Your belt or other strangling device would be attached to this and the apparatus could be mounted to a door knob or bathroom hook or whatever stranglebators use. This device would be wired to a PLC (programmable logic controller). Also wired to the PLC would be a pair of accelerometer wristbands, that would send a signal to the PLC when the accelerometers detected movement.
Now, if the accelerometers are detecting above a certain threshold of movement, this means all is well and the user can continue to do what they're doing. If, for whatever reason, the accelerometer is not sending a large enough signal back to the PLC (ie. the wrist bands are no longer moving), it will send a signal to the quick release mechanism to actuate, releasing the choking device and allowing air to flow to the users lungs before they completely pass out and die.
I really only want to do this so I can be the lone dissenting voice amongst the ownership group. Because all we ever hear is how the owners are unified and 100% behind Gary Bettman. Which is BULLSHIT! Just look at True North. You can't tell me they're too happy having a lockout. They made a bunch of money...they have a hockey hungry market with guaranteed revenues for the foreseeable future and they certainly don't want to be disenchanting a shit load of casual fans that got caught up in the hype and hysteria last year. Oh....and one has to imagine a significant chunk of money was freed up from other investments in order to purchase the team last year. That's a lot of money that could be collecting interest or invested into high rate of return investments that is currently tied up in a business making absolutely no money.
All I want is to go all Mark Cuban on everyone's ass and piss the living fuck out of Jeremy Douche Geyser Jacobs and go public saying I don't support Bettman or the other owners.
So, in order to buy an NHL team, I'm gonna need a shitload of cash. And, while I would have been able to pimp myself out to tons of hot bitches and make shitloads of money as a high class manwhore, I currently lack the amazing beard to do so. So this means I need to concoct a crazy money making scheme. So I present to you the Stranglebator 3500!
Now, while I strongly believe stranglebator survival rates showed be determined by some sort of Darwinian function, I'm also a capitalist that isn't going to shy away from a business opportunity when I see one. I have identified that stranglebating is a high risk activity that is in need of adequate safety equipment. Not only do stranglebators risk death each time they get down to business...they also run the even bigger risk of dying while stranglebating and having this information go public. Nobody wants to be the next Michael Hutchence or David Carradine. Remember....when you die is not nearly as important as how you die. And nobody wants to die while simultaneously choking themselves and masturbating.
And this is where the Stranglebator 5000 comes in. I envision it being some sort of quick release mechanism that could be electronically actuated. Your belt or other strangling device would be attached to this and the apparatus could be mounted to a door knob or bathroom hook or whatever stranglebators use. This device would be wired to a PLC (programmable logic controller). Also wired to the PLC would be a pair of accelerometer wristbands, that would send a signal to the PLC when the accelerometers detected movement.
Now, if the accelerometers are detecting above a certain threshold of movement, this means all is well and the user can continue to do what they're doing. If, for whatever reason, the accelerometer is not sending a large enough signal back to the PLC (ie. the wrist bands are no longer moving), it will send a signal to the quick release mechanism to actuate, releasing the choking device and allowing air to flow to the users lungs before they completely pass out and die.
Tuesday, 25 September 2012
Brad's Beardless NHL Lockout Protest: Day 10
So, whilst I was angrily and frustratingly shaving, it donned on me that I only have one razor blade. And considering the last time I purchased shaving equipment was probably sometime in 2006ish, it began to don on me that I'm probably way behind the razor technology curve. I'm still rocking a Gilette Mach 3 that I got for free in some promotional handout of hygiene products way back during my first year of university. I assume this handout was 10% promotional and 90% trying to get computer science students to use deodorant.
Back to the lockout, though. If this thing drags out much longer I'm going to need to buy some more razor blades. And I assume the Mach 3 is no longer in circulation. I'm sure it was left in a cloud of dust during the great razor blade race of the mid-2000's. I don't even know how many blades we're up to. I assume we're probably around 6 by now. Someone should do a study to determine the razor blade asymptote.
***
In other lockout news, the NFL referee lockout.....clusterfuck doesn't even do it justice. I actually turned off the game Monday night about halfway through the fourth quarter. There was a play where the Seahawks QB through a pretty good pass into one-on-one coverage. The Green Bay corner, I believe it was Shields, covered the play brilliantly. As a football fan, it was a thing of beauty how he kept pace stride for stride, turned around, located the ball and then made a brilliant play on it, breaking up the pass. It was text book and one of those plays that makes me appreciate how talented some of these players are. So of course the ref threw a pass interference flag on the play. It was such a horrible call on such a well executed play that it was my breaking point. I had to shut off the TV because these refs have basically reduced the game to "drunken, blindfolded hobo jacking off onto a dart board" levels of randomness.
And apparently it got worse.
After watching all the highlights, the big take away for me is that Pete Carroll is fucking clownshoes. I say this because after the debacling by the refs during the Sunday night game, Harbaugh and Belichick met each other in the field and shook hands. Both coaches seemed to give knowing looks that what just happened was a gong show and that the result of this game, outside of the standings, was basically meaningless in terms of one team or the other gaining any advantage in the decent rivalry building between the two teams. Both coaches realized this was a potentially great game ruined by the officials and neither team was pleased with how it played out.
Carroll, meanwhile, was celebrating and fist pumping like a fucking moron and constantly refuses to acknowledge that the victory is a result of pure, dumb, incompetent luck. Harbaugh, while definitely going to take the win, seems to have too much respect for the game, the players and the coaches he goes up against. And this is why Carroll is clownshoes.
Back to the lockout, though. If this thing drags out much longer I'm going to need to buy some more razor blades. And I assume the Mach 3 is no longer in circulation. I'm sure it was left in a cloud of dust during the great razor blade race of the mid-2000's. I don't even know how many blades we're up to. I assume we're probably around 6 by now. Someone should do a study to determine the razor blade asymptote.
***
In other lockout news, the NFL referee lockout.....clusterfuck doesn't even do it justice. I actually turned off the game Monday night about halfway through the fourth quarter. There was a play where the Seahawks QB through a pretty good pass into one-on-one coverage. The Green Bay corner, I believe it was Shields, covered the play brilliantly. As a football fan, it was a thing of beauty how he kept pace stride for stride, turned around, located the ball and then made a brilliant play on it, breaking up the pass. It was text book and one of those plays that makes me appreciate how talented some of these players are. So of course the ref threw a pass interference flag on the play. It was such a horrible call on such a well executed play that it was my breaking point. I had to shut off the TV because these refs have basically reduced the game to "drunken, blindfolded hobo jacking off onto a dart board" levels of randomness.
And apparently it got worse.
After watching all the highlights, the big take away for me is that Pete Carroll is fucking clownshoes. I say this because after the debacling by the refs during the Sunday night game, Harbaugh and Belichick met each other in the field and shook hands. Both coaches seemed to give knowing looks that what just happened was a gong show and that the result of this game, outside of the standings, was basically meaningless in terms of one team or the other gaining any advantage in the decent rivalry building between the two teams. Both coaches realized this was a potentially great game ruined by the officials and neither team was pleased with how it played out.
Carroll, meanwhile, was celebrating and fist pumping like a fucking moron and constantly refuses to acknowledge that the victory is a result of pure, dumb, incompetent luck. Harbaugh, while definitely going to take the win, seems to have too much respect for the game, the players and the coaches he goes up against. And this is why Carroll is clownshoes.
Monday, 24 September 2012
Brad's Beardless NHL Protest: Day 9
While it may be true that most NHL players are really just Co-op Farm Supply water truck drivers and phys. ed. teachers that showed a little too much drive and work ethic for those positions and are only millionaires because of our society's probably misplaced value system in which we put our desire to be entertained well ahead of our desire to not go into massive credit card debt so we can afford season tickets, I thought it would be fun to Wikipedia some owners and see what their deal is.
Also, it will give me an idea of some secondary businesses that these owners own that I can boycott.
Today, I selected Stan Kroenke, owner of the Colorado Avalanche. I picked him from the list because I'm pretty sure he owned an NFL team at one point.
So it says here Kroenke's wife is the daughter of Wal-Mart co-founder Bud Walton and they inherited Bud's stake in Wal-Mart when he died. This is off to a flying start, because I already have a Wal-Mart boycott! Fuck those fucks.
Besides owning the Colorado Avalanche, he also "owns" the Denver Nuggets, Colorado Rapids (MLS) and Colorado Mammoth (NLL). All these teams are technically listed as owned by Josh Kroenke so that Stan can also own the St. Louis Rams and get around NFL owner restrictions (there's that NFL team I thought he owned). Stan is also the majority owner of Arsenal, which is in some homosexual soccer league. Not that there's anything wrong with that.
I guess Stan is one of those guys that should be lumped in with all the rest of the hard-working, smart, job-creating owners of the NHL that assume all the risks and allow the cattle to graze at their ranch. After all, he had an excellent business model of marrying some rich broad who's daddy was a multi-billionaire. And like any trophy husband, he wanted a few nice toys to keep him happy so his wife bought him some sports franchises. And what do trophy husbands do with the toys afforded them by their sugar mommas? Umm......concern themselves with the bottom line??????? Ummm....hmmm..
Maybe, considering all that fat Wal-Mart money he's been using to buy sports teams, the Wal-Mart guys were all like "Stan...we'll give you some fat Wal-Mart cash to buy these sports teams as long you maintain our proud tradition of employee exploitation that we've worked long and hard at to establish."
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