What Would Al Pacino Wear?

I was looking for a picture for the top of this post when I started planning it this morning, and for some reason, I google'd "Game 7." The above picture, of Blair Betts, John Tortorella, and Chris Drury, came back in the first page of results. I moved right past it at first, as I was looking for something, I don't know, iconic or interesting, but then a number of things popped out at me and I decided to share:

-All three of the men in this picture are simultaneously wondering: What the fuck am I doing in this organization? And at least two of them are pronouncing it: organize-ation.

-Before Torts's bottle-throwing incident, I would have seen his facial expression as a positive--intensity, demanding, wears his heart on his sleeve. After the incident, I see it as a negative--immature, bratty, and not even-keeled.

-Speaking of Torts (since he became head coach, Danielle and I have been trying to come up with the best headline pun involving his (in)famous nickname. I still say that, after a "successful" season, the headline "Tort Reform" is the clear winner.), there can't possibly be another coach in the NHL with more of a knack for lame, ugly, cheap-looking ties than John Tortorella. Danielle has noticed it, and as she has admitted on numerous occasions, her favorite clothing style can be described as "dirty-80's." Every suit Tortorella owns looks like he stole it from Al Pacino's closet in 1983.

-Could there be a better summation of Chris Drury's time in New York than his facial expression?

-The Beatles sweatshirt was the first thing I noticed, but I took a while to realize why--this is the next frontier of in-game advertising. You're not going to tell me that Prudential or Geico or Preparation H or whoever wouldn't pay a fan, or at the very least, subsidize part of the cost of an obviously primo seat, in exchange for getting all logo-ed up? Small dollar amount for one or two people and big bucks to buy full arena seat rings? This could really work. And they could have a sense of humor with it too--a Weight Watchers ad on a fat guy, a Revlon ad on an ugly chick. I missed my calling, I swear.

*

Anyway, there was a bunch of interesting sports-related stories floating around this morning, and with no NBA or NHL and a Yankees off night, I needed my fix:

-Apparently, HBO decided in their infinite post-Sopranos wisdom that giving Joe Buck his own show would be a ratings booster. I'm sure their thinking went something along the lines of:

Well--Joe Buck announces a lot of live sporting events that a lot of people watch, so if he has his own show, call it, Joe Buck Live, a lot of people will probably watch that too!

Except what HBO failed to realize is that the reason people tend to watch those games is because of the near-superhuman athletes throwing their bodies and some sort of ball around a packed enclosure. And besides eating or drinking, what they're usually doing while watching is complaining about having to hear Joe Buck talk, that is, until they just press mute. So really, this show is even worse, because he'll talk more AND we'll have to look at his horse-like face the whole time. Good work.

Anyway, the first show aired last night, and for reasons unknown to me (I feel like I use that expression a lot), Artie Lange was a guest. And either Artie is off the wagon again, or they spiked his bottled water with crystal meth, because he went off the deep end. Luckily, Deadspin posted an HBO-website exclusive clip of unseen footage, cleverly titled "Overtime." Please do yourself a favor and watch, and if my plea isn't enough, here's the first two lines of dialogue:

Joe Buck: Anything else you'd like to get off your chest, Artie? You bastard?
Artie Lange: Yeah--the jizz you shot on it.

I smell an Emmy.

-Naturally, after they revived Joe Buck's agent, manager, mother, and four or five of his corporate masters including FOX and Busch, all put in a call to him to immediately find out when and where he lost his goddamn mind. So now he's all apologetic and waxing moral-etic about the fucking guest that he booked for his fucking show. At least we have blogs like Deadspin around to point out the complete hypocrisy in a situation like this.

-Word on the street is that with their young stud QB coming along just fine, the Jets now want to give him a target taller than 5'11" (yes, that was a Laverneaus Coles dig). Plaxico Burress? In the green and white? Sure, why not. Just stipulate that he has to use some of his signing bonus to buy a shoulder holster. Anyway, today those talks seem to have cooled down, but this is the NFL we're talking about. The only person who knows what teams are doing is Chris Mortensen, and he knows nothing, so there you go.

-Bill Simmons's finals wrap-up column has been posted, and at just a smidge over 5,000 words, it's almost readable in one sitting! Considering Simmons is a huge Lakers/Kobe hater, I thought it was impressive that he did the honorable thing--back-handedly trashed Kobe for the duration of the piece and ended with:

But I do know this: What Kobe Bryant accomplished over the past 20 months ranks up there with anything that ever happened in the National Basketball Association. He walks among the NBA gods now. Like it or not.

And even there, he still had to throw in the "like it or not."

This is why I love Bill Simmons.

-And you said people don't watch hockey.

-No, really. People watch hockey. See.

-Fuck it, I know you didn't watch. Here's EJ Hradek's Top 10 2009 Stanley Cup Moments. Fuck.


More soon.

JS