Maybe you’re a little down about the constant negative/hacky Redskins-related commentary these days, or the latest lame Harlan-wrought snippy shot at the burgeoning Nationals, or the squalid lack of DCO posts since the tragic mid-July termination of our mentor and inspiration. Well, if you’re looking for something to bridge the gap betwixt unequivocally excellent and ‘tism-evoking Caps’ and Wizards’ camps and the start of the NHL/NBA seasons, look no further than tonight’s developments in the Nats vs. Mets contest.
With Justin Maxwell’s gently arcing, "evidently” line drive grand slam into the left field seats went yet another Mets’ September heartache at the hands of the “lowly” Nationals. Whether it’s crushing hopes of a division title, contributing to an epic collapse, or just piling on to an historic under-achievement, it just isn’t quite September without the Nationals laying some kind of embarrassment on the vainly grasping-for-greatness Mets of the last half decade and more.
It is SO worth mentioning that Maxwell’s slam also propelled the Mets into the wondrous category of “Worse Than The 2007 Washington Nationals”. As this blog so eloquently and gleefully declared in those hot, humid, halcyon days of two years ago, the Acta-led Nats of yore bucked each and every prediction of historical awfulness and surged to a record of 71-91, far short of the gloomy predictions, presented by hack after hack, of 120+ losses.
With Maxwell’s full-count, two-out heroics, the Mets and their epically swollen $143 million or whatever payroll earned their 92nd loss. While the calendar may save the Mets from 100 losses, ignominy knows no such Gregorian-enforced leniency. The 2009 Mets are now worse than the team widely predicted to be the worst baseball team of all time, at the hands of the very such squad predicted to achieve that distinction. Oh the irony/shame!
Manny would be/probably is proud.
Showing posts with label other bad teams. Show all posts
Showing posts with label other bad teams. Show all posts
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Thursday, March 5, 2009
The DCO Salutes T.O.
With the amount of T.O. news getting ready to bludgeon the public in the coming hours, we here at the DCO would like to take the time to thank the former 'boy, and former iggle for all of his contributions. While many have bemoaned Terrell Owens' presence in the hallowed halls of the National Football League for his flamboyance, his demand for attention and passes, and his carousing with Desperate Housewives, we here at the DC Optimist think one of his more unheralded contributions has gone unlawfully unnoticed. Owens, by the grace of god, single-handedly destroyed both the Philadelphia Eagles and the Dallas Cowboys playoff chances during his reigns in their respective uniforms, and for that, he cannot be thanked enough.
It all began with his celebrated tenure in Philadelphia. Working like a secret undercover agent, Owens decimated morale in the Eagles' locker room, belittled fellow diva Donovan McNabb into choking at every opportunity, took to camera whoring when his enormous contract seemingly wasn't enormous enough, and then, when it seemed like the world would completely implode on itself and the Eagles might win the Super Bowl, forced his way out, leaving the team's receiver core still without it's most productive target, and thus impotent and failure-prone. In the process, he enraged the admittedly easily-enraged Iggles fanbase, something we here at the DCO strive to do with every post. Owens work made the Eagles look cheap in the eyes of potential free agents, and naturally, players of his ilk stayed as far away as possible from that decrepit city, like many of the more sensible individuals in this country.
Naturally, Owens' problems with co-workers was lost on the bumbling Jerry Jones, who couldn't possibly see what a destructive force Owens was and like the inept personnel director he is, happily lead T.O. into Dallas so he could continue his masterwork of crushing locker room jollyness. While the earth was revolting at the sight of Tony Romo winking with his hat backwards, Owens went to work making sure that scourge of football was properly reminded that he isn't s**t. Romo was lambasted by Owens in every glorious opportunity, especially during Romo's impressively epic failures, like every playoff game number 9 ever suited up for and bungled.
It was the presence of T.O. combined with the natural unintended comedic brilliance of Jerry Jones' personnel moves that lead HBO to once again film Hark Knocks in the Cowboys' locker room. This development has always lead to the profiled team completely ruining itself, as the hour long in-depth scouting reports aired weekly often showed things to teams that couldn't be found studying game film. Although viewing Hard Knocks was especially troubling for this blogger, as it is strange watching a program where you wish every participant would suddenly become debilliatingly injured, it was hard not to notice the seeds of destruction that Owens had planted. Rookies looking to make T.O.-like money, have T.O.-esque commercials, etc., looked up to the receiver and his highly publicized tantrums. Why wouldn't they rally against their awful quarterback? And if HBO cameras weren't enough to parlay, Owens usually took his act to the pressers, including the undeniably fantastic "That's my Co' Back" post-playoff flameout that has been the finest post-football game press conference ever assembled. These seeds, combined with the Cowboys own drafted and acquired free agents, amounted to their suckiness.
With Owens now hitting the free agent market, many teams may be taking another look at his sort-of productive numbers, and possibly taking him and his brilliant destructive ways into their locker room. We hear the Giants may be looking for a replacement for the also-troubled Plaxico Burress. Wouldn't T.O. enjoy ripping apart another NFC East team from its insides? We'll be waiting to find out; with our popcorn of course.
It all began with his celebrated tenure in Philadelphia. Working like a secret undercover agent, Owens decimated morale in the Eagles' locker room, belittled fellow diva Donovan McNabb into choking at every opportunity, took to camera whoring when his enormous contract seemingly wasn't enormous enough, and then, when it seemed like the world would completely implode on itself and the Eagles might win the Super Bowl, forced his way out, leaving the team's receiver core still without it's most productive target, and thus impotent and failure-prone. In the process, he enraged the admittedly easily-enraged Iggles fanbase, something we here at the DCO strive to do with every post. Owens work made the Eagles look cheap in the eyes of potential free agents, and naturally, players of his ilk stayed as far away as possible from that decrepit city, like many of the more sensible individuals in this country.
Naturally, Owens' problems with co-workers was lost on the bumbling Jerry Jones, who couldn't possibly see what a destructive force Owens was and like the inept personnel director he is, happily lead T.O. into Dallas so he could continue his masterwork of crushing locker room jollyness. While the earth was revolting at the sight of Tony Romo winking with his hat backwards, Owens went to work making sure that scourge of football was properly reminded that he isn't s**t. Romo was lambasted by Owens in every glorious opportunity, especially during Romo's impressively epic failures, like every playoff game number 9 ever suited up for and bungled.
It was the presence of T.O. combined with the natural unintended comedic brilliance of Jerry Jones' personnel moves that lead HBO to once again film Hark Knocks in the Cowboys' locker room. This development has always lead to the profiled team completely ruining itself, as the hour long in-depth scouting reports aired weekly often showed things to teams that couldn't be found studying game film. Although viewing Hard Knocks was especially troubling for this blogger, as it is strange watching a program where you wish every participant would suddenly become debilliatingly injured, it was hard not to notice the seeds of destruction that Owens had planted. Rookies looking to make T.O.-like money, have T.O.-esque commercials, etc., looked up to the receiver and his highly publicized tantrums. Why wouldn't they rally against their awful quarterback? And if HBO cameras weren't enough to parlay, Owens usually took his act to the pressers, including the undeniably fantastic "That's my Co' Back" post-playoff flameout that has been the finest post-football game press conference ever assembled. These seeds, combined with the Cowboys own drafted and acquired free agents, amounted to their suckiness.
With Owens now hitting the free agent market, many teams may be taking another look at his sort-of productive numbers, and possibly taking him and his brilliant destructive ways into their locker room. We hear the Giants may be looking for a replacement for the also-troubled Plaxico Burress. Wouldn't T.O. enjoy ripping apart another NFC East team from its insides? We'll be waiting to find out; with our popcorn of course.
Monday, December 29, 2008
Skins' "Collapse" Really Not That Bad
Give Dan Wetzel a Pulitzer. Maybe the award is only for newspapers, and Yahoo! Sports online contributors are not eligible, but give this guy something for his brutally accurate and downright lyrical piece entitled “Cowboys, not Lions, were top flops.”
It’s so rare that a couple dozen paragraphs put such a profound perspective on an NFL season. While the Jason LaCanforas of DC gleefully revel in a Redskins 8-8 season and never cease to remind us of the “disastrous” decisions made by the ‘Skins collective braintrust, Wetzel reminds us of how much worse off the Cowboys are.
Some gems from this beautiful calling-out of the frauds in Dallas:
“The Detroit Lions became the first team to go 0-16 in league history but the most disastrous season in the NFL this year belongs to the Cowboys.”
“[The season] was a train wreck of melodrama, mistakes and misplaced priorities. For Dallas to finish 9-7 and out of the playoffs with that much talent is an epic failure.”
“Tony Romo continued to fall apart after Dec. 1” (my birthday; what greater gift?)
“Repeated late season collapses – the Cowboys have lost their last nine regular-season finales, and have done nothing in the playoffs – are in this team’s DNA.”
Perhaps most importantly, Wetzel reminds us:
“At midseason, owner Jerry Jones even mortgaged some of the team’s future to get more talent. He traded a first-, third- and sixth-round draft pick to Detroit for receiver Roy Williams. Like most of Dallas’ moves, it didn’t pan out. Williams caught just 19 passes in 10 games.”
So it seems there are other owners/pseudo-GMs out there capable of making poor decisions about trading draft picks! One would be correct in mistakenly thinking such dundering was limited to Washington, with all the previously referred to optimism-hating abounding in local publications.
There you have it: Dallas is worse than 0-16 Detroit, making the 2008 Cowboys The Worst Team of All-Time (relative to expectations).
Remember when the ‘Boys were 3-0, virtually anointed by ESPN as a 16-0 Super Bowl contender, lauded as unstoppable, with all melodrama left far behind them, and a lock to destroy a weak Redskins team at home? A less lazy blogger might dig up some damning quotes from the likes of Chris Berman, Peter King (what’s he going to do with no Romo or Favre in the playoffs, by the way?), et al, but that blogger doesn’t live here anymore (as evidenced by his first post since before Thanksgiving).
What about more failures much more spectacular than the Redskins 8-8 record?
The Broncos lost their last three games to gag away a division title, which they eventually lost to an 8-8 team.
The Bucs lost their last four to go from 9-3 and in command of their division to 9-7 and in the same could-have/should-have boat as the Cowboys.
The Jets, those Titan-killers of November 23 that spawned so much all-New-York-Super-Bowl frenzy, lost four of their last five as Brett Favre nicely evened out his TD/Int ratio to miss the playoffs, sending Peter King and John Madden into a depression from which they may never recover.
Washington at 8-8 doesn’t seem that bad anymore. That 6-2 start was just a teasing taste of things to come. Plus, now the Skins get another crack at the Lions next season, and a revenge date with the Rams. They finished where many thought they might, unlike that team of fraudulent false gods in Dallas.
It’s so rare that a couple dozen paragraphs put such a profound perspective on an NFL season. While the Jason LaCanforas of DC gleefully revel in a Redskins 8-8 season and never cease to remind us of the “disastrous” decisions made by the ‘Skins collective braintrust, Wetzel reminds us of how much worse off the Cowboys are.
Some gems from this beautiful calling-out of the frauds in Dallas:
“The Detroit Lions became the first team to go 0-16 in league history but the most disastrous season in the NFL this year belongs to the Cowboys.”
“[The season] was a train wreck of melodrama, mistakes and misplaced priorities. For Dallas to finish 9-7 and out of the playoffs with that much talent is an epic failure.”
“Tony Romo continued to fall apart after Dec. 1” (my birthday; what greater gift?)
“Repeated late season collapses – the Cowboys have lost their last nine regular-season finales, and have done nothing in the playoffs – are in this team’s DNA.”
Perhaps most importantly, Wetzel reminds us:
“At midseason, owner Jerry Jones even mortgaged some of the team’s future to get more talent. He traded a first-, third- and sixth-round draft pick to Detroit for receiver Roy Williams. Like most of Dallas’ moves, it didn’t pan out. Williams caught just 19 passes in 10 games.”
So it seems there are other owners/pseudo-GMs out there capable of making poor decisions about trading draft picks! One would be correct in mistakenly thinking such dundering was limited to Washington, with all the previously referred to optimism-hating abounding in local publications.
There you have it: Dallas is worse than 0-16 Detroit, making the 2008 Cowboys The Worst Team of All-Time (relative to expectations).
Remember when the ‘Boys were 3-0, virtually anointed by ESPN as a 16-0 Super Bowl contender, lauded as unstoppable, with all melodrama left far behind them, and a lock to destroy a weak Redskins team at home? A less lazy blogger might dig up some damning quotes from the likes of Chris Berman, Peter King (what’s he going to do with no Romo or Favre in the playoffs, by the way?), et al, but that blogger doesn’t live here anymore (as evidenced by his first post since before Thanksgiving).
What about more failures much more spectacular than the Redskins 8-8 record?
The Broncos lost their last three games to gag away a division title, which they eventually lost to an 8-8 team.
The Bucs lost their last four to go from 9-3 and in command of their division to 9-7 and in the same could-have/should-have boat as the Cowboys.
The Jets, those Titan-killers of November 23 that spawned so much all-New-York-Super-Bowl frenzy, lost four of their last five as Brett Favre nicely evened out his TD/Int ratio to miss the playoffs, sending Peter King and John Madden into a depression from which they may never recover.
Washington at 8-8 doesn’t seem that bad anymore. That 6-2 start was just a teasing taste of things to come. Plus, now the Skins get another crack at the Lions next season, and a revenge date with the Rams. They finished where many thought they might, unlike that team of fraudulent false gods in Dallas.
Thursday, June 26, 2008
A Great Non-Sweep
This was going to be one of those “we’re not so bad off, look at [some other team]” type of posts we used to revel in last spring and summer, when we’d lift our weary DC-supporting spirits by pointing out the worse straits occupied by some other city’s franchise(s). The team in question would have been, of course, the Nationals, that lovable bunch of low-expectations-saddled, Manny-led ballplayers who had just been swept my Minnesota, taken down in 2 of 3 by the Rangers, and seemed destined to be a three-game speedbump for the AL West buzzsaw Angels.
We’ll still go in that direction a bit, but this was all before doings of increasingly clutch-seizing Elijah Dukes and the anti-LoDuca, Jesus Flores. We all remember Dukes, right? He of the dugout blowout vs. our Man Manny, for reasons classily undisclosed, on June 10? He who was, from that point forward, destined to tear apart this Nats team with his rank terribleness? Since that day and his subsequent non-suspension/benching, Dukes has hit .327 with 8 RBI and a trio of fabulously stolen bases, highlighted by an early-career-defining 5-6 performance against Texas, wherein he managed to knock in the tying and winning runs (separated by six, mostly extra, innings). The projected clubhouse cancer has become a reliable 2-slot hitter, freeing up also-resurging Lastings Milledge to bat third and do things like hit his seventh home run against the Angels.
It’s kind of like Manny (again) knew best how to back a player down from the emotional edge and re-state his confidence in such a player. It’s like an extended version of last June’s calming down of an ejection-bound Felipe Lopez prior to a game-seizing triple. Lopez, at that brink, was 0-5 (sub-.100 batting average?) before his game-winning stroke (.327 tear?). Dukes, likewise, could have been on some manner of brink, prior to Manny keeping the faith and keeping him in the lineup.
So there was Elijah, putting behind early season indignities and getting that badly needed ninth-inning single. By the time stolen-from-the-Mets Jesus Flores stepped up with Dukes on second and one out, the inevitability of yet another Nats bottom-of-the-ninth-or-later victory (their seventh of the year; thanks, ESPN, for actually acknowledging the Nats existence AND for providing us with this nugget) was baldly palpable. Dukes of course came trotting home on Flores’ convincing single to deeeep right center and the Nats avoided the sweep. Cue “there’s someone worse off than us” portion.
While the Nationals were busy losing 2 of 3 to a division leader and World-Series contender, what of one of my allegedly new “hometown” teams, the NY Mets? That debacle-in-waiting of a franchise that does not quite want to admit it may be headed for a rebuild ($100 million+ roster notwithstanding)? They were performing an encore to their classless manager firing entitled “Losing 2 of 3 to Seattle”.
That’s right, the same Mariners these Nationals seemingly effortlessly swept, keeping that “worst team in the Majors” moniker safely at bay. In their three games vs. Seattle, Washington managed to avoid the horrid, blasphemous indignities of: A. Having their “ace” (an expensive and highly touted one, at that) serve up a grand slam to an American League pitcher with eight career at-bats. B. Losing by 11 runs to the Mariners.
Such awfulness would have put any Nats losing streak in perspective. Sure they may be wallowing in the injury-filled depths of last place in the NL, but at least they are fulfilling expectations rather than falling miserably below them, a la the Mets, who can say a prayer of thanks today to those expectation-shattering Rays for visciously taking care of the Marlins and allowing them to gain a badly needed game in the NL East. The Rays might yet become something of a “sister team” to us Nats fans, seeing them so maligned and declared retraction-worthy by so many before their ascension into division-contending glory. Sounds like something out of the not-too-distant future in DC.
We’ll still go in that direction a bit, but this was all before doings of increasingly clutch-seizing Elijah Dukes and the anti-LoDuca, Jesus Flores. We all remember Dukes, right? He of the dugout blowout vs. our Man Manny, for reasons classily undisclosed, on June 10? He who was, from that point forward, destined to tear apart this Nats team with his rank terribleness? Since that day and his subsequent non-suspension/benching, Dukes has hit .327 with 8 RBI and a trio of fabulously stolen bases, highlighted by an early-career-defining 5-6 performance against Texas, wherein he managed to knock in the tying and winning runs (separated by six, mostly extra, innings). The projected clubhouse cancer has become a reliable 2-slot hitter, freeing up also-resurging Lastings Milledge to bat third and do things like hit his seventh home run against the Angels.
It’s kind of like Manny (again) knew best how to back a player down from the emotional edge and re-state his confidence in such a player. It’s like an extended version of last June’s calming down of an ejection-bound Felipe Lopez prior to a game-seizing triple. Lopez, at that brink, was 0-5 (sub-.100 batting average?) before his game-winning stroke (.327 tear?). Dukes, likewise, could have been on some manner of brink, prior to Manny keeping the faith and keeping him in the lineup.
So there was Elijah, putting behind early season indignities and getting that badly needed ninth-inning single. By the time stolen-from-the-Mets Jesus Flores stepped up with Dukes on second and one out, the inevitability of yet another Nats bottom-of-the-ninth-or-later victory (their seventh of the year; thanks, ESPN, for actually acknowledging the Nats existence AND for providing us with this nugget) was baldly palpable. Dukes of course came trotting home on Flores’ convincing single to deeeep right center and the Nats avoided the sweep. Cue “there’s someone worse off than us” portion.
While the Nationals were busy losing 2 of 3 to a division leader and World-Series contender, what of one of my allegedly new “hometown” teams, the NY Mets? That debacle-in-waiting of a franchise that does not quite want to admit it may be headed for a rebuild ($100 million+ roster notwithstanding)? They were performing an encore to their classless manager firing entitled “Losing 2 of 3 to Seattle”.
That’s right, the same Mariners these Nationals seemingly effortlessly swept, keeping that “worst team in the Majors” moniker safely at bay. In their three games vs. Seattle, Washington managed to avoid the horrid, blasphemous indignities of: A. Having their “ace” (an expensive and highly touted one, at that) serve up a grand slam to an American League pitcher with eight career at-bats. B. Losing by 11 runs to the Mariners.
Such awfulness would have put any Nats losing streak in perspective. Sure they may be wallowing in the injury-filled depths of last place in the NL, but at least they are fulfilling expectations rather than falling miserably below them, a la the Mets, who can say a prayer of thanks today to those expectation-shattering Rays for visciously taking care of the Marlins and allowing them to gain a badly needed game in the NL East. The Rays might yet become something of a “sister team” to us Nats fans, seeing them so maligned and declared retraction-worthy by so many before their ascension into division-contending glory. Sounds like something out of the not-too-distant future in DC.
Monday, May 19, 2008
Celebrating 25 Years of Futility
Ah, tis the season of the post-playoff-failure sojourn of the Philadelphia sports fan. No longer are they the "intimidating" lout of boorish battery-throwers, so passionate about their teams that they boo them at the drop of a 2-0 lead. No, now they are the poor, suffering, championship-less city of dreary almosts. Now, after they have lost again, the country should feel sorry for those denizens who pollute their stadiums with puke-colored jerseys and terribly backward pronunciations of "grass (grayeesz)" and "water (wooder)." They should accept the annoying banter that is a "Phaithful" discussing the "iggles" and their guaranteed championship-winning ability despite never having the ability to come closer than just close. That guy with the lame face-paint and the shoulder pads who feels the need to travel down 95 so he can chant spellings of the Eagles in Landover just needs a hug from someone who has actually celebrated a championship win in the past 25 years, right?
Well, we here at the DC Optimist want to remind you that feeling sorry for the Philadelphia sports fan is NEVER proper. No, during these wondrous times when the "remember how close we were"s and the "We were the best team in the regular season"s and the "we were robbed by the refs/commissioner/god, etc"s start to flow out in that ragged accent, it is time to administer the proper amount of cajolement. The unruly nature of the Philadelphia sports fanbase is nothing more than the reflection of an insecurity that lying in between two superior metropolises bears. Thus the fervent backing of second-rate sports teams occurs complete with the sanctimonious boos that only the most abusive daddy could lavish upon their son or daughter's minor failures. Those that aren't 100% behind this insufferable gamut of "aeeeyyezholes" bear the verbal brunt of abuse typically leveled during Klan rallies. Propose a trade from this unglorious town, become public enemy number one (see Rolen; Scott, Lindros, Eric) earning lush hatred while representing the fanbase's best interests. It soon becomes no wonder that the stars that leave the brotherly lovers often have such great things to say about their new home.
These same "Phanatics" who pelt J.D. Drew with batteries upon his playing for another team just can't stand the fact that some pissy caps fans chucked bottles at their players, after they were booing said player this night before. And as is often the refrain regarding the bandwagon nature of the DC fan heard from the "Phaithful" regarding how no one was watching the caps before they started winning, please hip me to the Phillies' attendance figures during those last-place days at the vet. I can remember not a more cavernous ark of desolate blue nothingness. In that space, no one can hear you boo.
Much was made of Mike Wise's column and the subsequent printing and passing out of said column before the first-round playoff series between the Caps and the Flyers and how it marked how wonderfully belligerent the "Phaithful" are and how great that is. Now, we are treated with the pathetic prose of the teary typers from the Philadelphia Inquirer who are bemoaning yet another year of ineptitude. A typical piece comes courtesy of Peter Mucha, whose "Loserville: 25 years, 0 championships" has an epic title to go along with the typical recounts of failures therein. A nice little addition to Mucha's piece is the interactive "Loserville: 25 years of futility" map that allows the user to visually recount other cities with major league teams and their ability to not lose championships. Be sure to drag your mouse over the Washington, DC dot, where the last two Redskins titles are proudly displayed. Also, be sure to drag your mouse over other the only more terrible sports town of Cleveland, and note their continued lack of championship, which stretches even further than Philadelphia's, which was aided by those homebodies in Boston, who turned the crybaby into the dead baby last night.
Another philly.com scribe, Rich Hoffman, has his take on the titleless-ness too, recounting what is now 100 consecutive combined season of all four franchises minus cup/ring/trophy. Take the time to breathe in these pleasure-inducing paeans to patheticism, visualizing a glorious morning in Bucks County where audible booing can be heard amongst the breakfast-and-paper partakers. Methinks that a hard copy of the Philadelphia Inquirer would make good exagerratedly read material for this week's Nats vs. Philllies series. In a Terrapin-game-esque manner, be sure to ruffle the pages of Mucha and Hoffman's pieces into the faces of the "Phaithful," maybe even reciting some of the more pleasure-inducing lines like, "We're No. 1 - at falling short!"
Well, we here at the DC Optimist want to remind you that feeling sorry for the Philadelphia sports fan is NEVER proper. No, during these wondrous times when the "remember how close we were"s and the "We were the best team in the regular season"s and the "we were robbed by the refs/commissioner/god, etc"s start to flow out in that ragged accent, it is time to administer the proper amount of cajolement. The unruly nature of the Philadelphia sports fanbase is nothing more than the reflection of an insecurity that lying in between two superior metropolises bears. Thus the fervent backing of second-rate sports teams occurs complete with the sanctimonious boos that only the most abusive daddy could lavish upon their son or daughter's minor failures. Those that aren't 100% behind this insufferable gamut of "aeeeyyezholes" bear the verbal brunt of abuse typically leveled during Klan rallies. Propose a trade from this unglorious town, become public enemy number one (see Rolen; Scott, Lindros, Eric) earning lush hatred while representing the fanbase's best interests. It soon becomes no wonder that the stars that leave the brotherly lovers often have such great things to say about their new home.
These same "Phanatics" who pelt J.D. Drew with batteries upon his playing for another team just can't stand the fact that some pissy caps fans chucked bottles at their players, after they were booing said player this night before. And as is often the refrain regarding the bandwagon nature of the DC fan heard from the "Phaithful" regarding how no one was watching the caps before they started winning, please hip me to the Phillies' attendance figures during those last-place days at the vet. I can remember not a more cavernous ark of desolate blue nothingness. In that space, no one can hear you boo.
Much was made of Mike Wise's column and the subsequent printing and passing out of said column before the first-round playoff series between the Caps and the Flyers and how it marked how wonderfully belligerent the "Phaithful" are and how great that is. Now, we are treated with the pathetic prose of the teary typers from the Philadelphia Inquirer who are bemoaning yet another year of ineptitude. A typical piece comes courtesy of Peter Mucha, whose "Loserville: 25 years, 0 championships" has an epic title to go along with the typical recounts of failures therein. A nice little addition to Mucha's piece is the interactive "Loserville: 25 years of futility" map that allows the user to visually recount other cities with major league teams and their ability to not lose championships. Be sure to drag your mouse over the Washington, DC dot, where the last two Redskins titles are proudly displayed. Also, be sure to drag your mouse over other the only more terrible sports town of Cleveland, and note their continued lack of championship, which stretches even further than Philadelphia's, which was aided by those homebodies in Boston, who turned the crybaby into the dead baby last night.
Another philly.com scribe, Rich Hoffman, has his take on the titleless-ness too, recounting what is now 100 consecutive combined season of all four franchises minus cup/ring/trophy. Take the time to breathe in these pleasure-inducing paeans to patheticism, visualizing a glorious morning in Bucks County where audible booing can be heard amongst the breakfast-and-paper partakers. Methinks that a hard copy of the Philadelphia Inquirer would make good exagerratedly read material for this week's Nats vs. Philllies series. In a Terrapin-game-esque manner, be sure to ruffle the pages of Mucha and Hoffman's pieces into the faces of the "Phaithful," maybe even reciting some of the more pleasure-inducing lines like, "We're No. 1 - at falling short!"
Tuesday, September 4, 2007
T-Minus Six Days and Counting the Nats
There are only six days of non-mattering football left. Marcus Washington "remains optimistic," do we? If we were Jazze Pha and also insufferable, we might scream "SHO NUFF" a scant 72 times in one minute ("LADIES AND GINNULLMEN!"). The season opener against the Dolphins is approaching faster than London Fletcher approaches a running back, and the DC Optimist is confident of a victory, why? Well it would be because of the stunning parallels between the Miami team that is currently visiting and looking to escape the district and the one that is set to be bludgeoned Sunday. Remember the Marlins? Well they once won a world series like years ago, and proceeded to gut their roster like savage fishmongers. Well now they look up at the reigning forth place team in the National League East, the Washington Nationals, after Jason Bergmann got his groove (slider) back yesterday afternoon.
In honor of this six-day waiting period, we have provided six other reasons why victory Monday will = victory Sunday:
1. Jason Bergmann's return from injury to be the guy we all thought he was looks eerily similar to the way Clinton Portis is returning from injury to be the guy we all know he should have been last season. 5-11 had it's fair share of bruises, tears and breaks of the bodily variety, and we know the team-carrying that Clinton showed in '05 was not fluke, just like we know the potential no-no Bergmann was hurling earlier this year was no fluke either. Bergmann's return to form speaks volumes to us about Clinton's eventual load carrying.
2. Similar to the Redskins' defensive line, Chad Cordero has faced much malign-ment from Nationals faithful. But in reality, he hasn't been that bad, and hasn't been really awful since he returned from bereavement leave according to B. Svrluga, who culls some very 'tism-riffic statistics in the Post's game piece.
3. The Marlins suck and the Dolphins will suck. Seriously, Trent Green? This dude is more washed up than VH1's Sunday night lineup. And his upcoming gig with the fish, where quarterbacks go to die (Culpepper, AJ Feely, Jay Fiedler), is looking similar to the third season of Flavor of Love in its predictible trashiness and ultimately unsatisfying conclusion (Debillitating injury to Green = New York, Kurt Warner = I Love New York). The Marlins also have a hurler veering towards washed-uppedness. Remember Dontrelle Willis? He sure would like to forget the Nats, who own him.
4. Untested rookie talent on display at RFK mirrors untested rookie talent to be put on display at FedEx Field. Talk about diamonds culled from the rough of undrafted free agency! Lorenzo Alexander! Marcus Mason! These are the guys making the team and causing the jettisonning of storied veterans like Big Joe Salave'a and Reynaldo Wynn (I guess that leaves more time for message boards though). Could the arrival of super-studded prospects Justin Maxwell and Ross Detwiler have a similar effect on Nationals stalwarts? We aren't sure, but we are sure that due to the dilligence of both the skins' talent evaluation and brilliance of Kasten et. al's Plan, we see the importance of infusing rosters with youngsters. It is turning the season(s) around in DC, just wait.
5. Both the Nats and the Skins are locking in their largely haired, glittering statistical outputors. Who doesn't love the skins' new "pay those guys who are already on our team more money" philosophy? Sometimes chemistry counts for something, and when guys hang around, they tend to play better and stuff. Like Dmitri Young, with the batting title in sight, he gets new contract and continues to cut baseballs like they're Jeremiah Trotter from NFL rosters. The skins, seeing how awesomely awesome Chris Cooley is, thought they too should rightfully reward him for his efforts, and we expect nothing but awesome this season. It was Cooley who snagged Jason Campbell's knee-saving heave against the Steelers, and he was also on the end of another perfect Campbell pass during the five-for-five-my-knee-is-fine Jags tune-up. Campbell hasn't thrown an incomplete pass in almost two games!
6. Personal player comebacks galore! Even while ignoring the obvious Nationals comeback player of the year, there are other guys already bouncing back from hard times. What about Matt Chico's return? Doesn't that parallel the return of enjoyable, now-again-ready-to-contribute cornerback Fred Smoot? Ryan Langerhans's season has been historically bad, so has Brandon Lloyds. Both are returning after some rehabilitation, and both look to be great(er).
So with this six-pack of definite parallels, isn't it obvious who comes out on top this Sunday?
In honor of this six-day waiting period, we have provided six other reasons why victory Monday will = victory Sunday:
1. Jason Bergmann's return from injury to be the guy we all thought he was looks eerily similar to the way Clinton Portis is returning from injury to be the guy we all know he should have been last season. 5-11 had it's fair share of bruises, tears and breaks of the bodily variety, and we know the team-carrying that Clinton showed in '05 was not fluke, just like we know the potential no-no Bergmann was hurling earlier this year was no fluke either. Bergmann's return to form speaks volumes to us about Clinton's eventual load carrying.
2. Similar to the Redskins' defensive line, Chad Cordero has faced much malign-ment from Nationals faithful. But in reality, he hasn't been that bad, and hasn't been really awful since he returned from bereavement leave according to B. Svrluga, who culls some very 'tism-riffic statistics in the Post's game piece.
"Cordero, too, could concentrate on his eight blown saves, the most in baseball.See? ONE bad game, and the rest = domination. Could we say the same thing about the Redskins defensive line, still the subject of much soreness? Well yes, if we count 5-11 as a much longer, more torturous ninth inning in Colorado. The Redskins defense has been #5 in the league and #9 in the league in '04 and '05 respectively. Wipe away 5-11 and this remains the #7 defense in the league.
But he has saves in almost half the Nationals' wins, and since returning from
bereavement leave in May to deal with the death of his grandmother, he has 26
saves in 30 opportunities with a 2.66 ERA -- even with a five-run debacle Aug.
24 against Colorado. Take that away, and his ERA over that time drops to
1.95."
3. The Marlins suck and the Dolphins will suck. Seriously, Trent Green? This dude is more washed up than VH1's Sunday night lineup. And his upcoming gig with the fish, where quarterbacks go to die (Culpepper, AJ Feely, Jay Fiedler), is looking similar to the third season of Flavor of Love in its predictible trashiness and ultimately unsatisfying conclusion (Debillitating injury to Green = New York, Kurt Warner = I Love New York). The Marlins also have a hurler veering towards washed-uppedness. Remember Dontrelle Willis? He sure would like to forget the Nats, who own him.
4. Untested rookie talent on display at RFK mirrors untested rookie talent to be put on display at FedEx Field. Talk about diamonds culled from the rough of undrafted free agency! Lorenzo Alexander! Marcus Mason! These are the guys making the team and causing the jettisonning of storied veterans like Big Joe Salave'a and Reynaldo Wynn (I guess that leaves more time for message boards though). Could the arrival of super-studded prospects Justin Maxwell and Ross Detwiler have a similar effect on Nationals stalwarts? We aren't sure, but we are sure that due to the dilligence of both the skins' talent evaluation and brilliance of Kasten et. al's Plan, we see the importance of infusing rosters with youngsters. It is turning the season(s) around in DC, just wait.
5. Both the Nats and the Skins are locking in their largely haired, glittering statistical outputors. Who doesn't love the skins' new "pay those guys who are already on our team more money" philosophy? Sometimes chemistry counts for something, and when guys hang around, they tend to play better and stuff. Like Dmitri Young, with the batting title in sight, he gets new contract and continues to cut baseballs like they're Jeremiah Trotter from NFL rosters. The skins, seeing how awesomely awesome Chris Cooley is, thought they too should rightfully reward him for his efforts, and we expect nothing but awesome this season. It was Cooley who snagged Jason Campbell's knee-saving heave against the Steelers, and he was also on the end of another perfect Campbell pass during the five-for-five-my-knee-is-fine Jags tune-up. Campbell hasn't thrown an incomplete pass in almost two games!
6. Personal player comebacks galore! Even while ignoring the obvious Nationals comeback player of the year, there are other guys already bouncing back from hard times. What about Matt Chico's return? Doesn't that parallel the return of enjoyable, now-again-ready-to-contribute cornerback Fred Smoot? Ryan Langerhans's season has been historically bad, so has Brandon Lloyds. Both are returning after some rehabilitation, and both look to be great(er).
So with this six-pack of definite parallels, isn't it obvious who comes out on top this Sunday?
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
There's Someone Worse Than Us!
Inspired by Ivan Carter's Wizards Insider piece, in which the general-incompetence-induced plight of the dreadful Indiana Pacers is shown to be much worse than the current freakish-injury-induced plight of the Wizards, DCO thinks it useful and uplifting to start a series looking at other pro sports teams who are much worse off, and for much worse reasons, than our beloved Washington franchises. We've already examined how the imminently self-destructive, hedonisitc free spending of the Philadelphia Eagles will negatively affect that franchise, while making the Redskins look downright thrifty in the process. Point, us.
Let's continue by looking at the heavily maligned Washington Capitals. There may be no larger self-flagellating group in the world than Caps fans (look no futher than the comments section of Capitals Insider - an excellent blog, by the way - the love of some for trashing the team is only eclipsed by their love for trashing other fans). Part of DCO used to be such a fan, before he found hope and solace in the arms of eternal, numbing optimism.
Sure, the Caps missed the playoffs by an enormous margin, but would you rather they be the Atlanta Thrashers, currently taking it on the beak (sorry) in the first round from the Rangers? The same Thrashers who paid a Redskins-like ransom to acquire aging Keith Tkachuk at the trade deadline? Would you take a fluky division title, a proverbially mortgaged future, and a first round humiliation over a franchise that really, really promises they're working to be good?
Or how about the Edmonton Oilers, last year's Stanley Cup runner up? They traded face of the franchise and leading scorer Ryan Smyth to the Islanders for seemingly no reason. I guess the point-a-game average wasn't good enough for them and was dragging down their season (which resulted with only one more standings point than the Caps).
So you see, for every seemingly overnight success story like the Penguins, there are your perennial-disappointments-with-no-bright-futures like the Florida Panthers, Los Angeles Kings, Columbus Blue Jackets, and Chicago Blackhawks (their #1 overall pick notwithstanding - good luck with that one). The Caps may seem a little disjointed at times in their approach, but bless 'em, they swear they're doing their best. And they can finally stop paying part of Jaromir Jagr's salary after this season. That alone is reason to celebrate.
Let's continue by looking at the heavily maligned Washington Capitals. There may be no larger self-flagellating group in the world than Caps fans (look no futher than the comments section of Capitals Insider - an excellent blog, by the way - the love of some for trashing the team is only eclipsed by their love for trashing other fans). Part of DCO used to be such a fan, before he found hope and solace in the arms of eternal, numbing optimism.
Sure, the Caps missed the playoffs by an enormous margin, but would you rather they be the Atlanta Thrashers, currently taking it on the beak (sorry) in the first round from the Rangers? The same Thrashers who paid a Redskins-like ransom to acquire aging Keith Tkachuk at the trade deadline? Would you take a fluky division title, a proverbially mortgaged future, and a first round humiliation over a franchise that really, really promises they're working to be good?
Or how about the Edmonton Oilers, last year's Stanley Cup runner up? They traded face of the franchise and leading scorer Ryan Smyth to the Islanders for seemingly no reason. I guess the point-a-game average wasn't good enough for them and was dragging down their season (which resulted with only one more standings point than the Caps).
So you see, for every seemingly overnight success story like the Penguins, there are your perennial-disappointments-with-no-bright-futures like the Florida Panthers, Los Angeles Kings, Columbus Blue Jackets, and Chicago Blackhawks (their #1 overall pick notwithstanding - good luck with that one). The Caps may seem a little disjointed at times in their approach, but bless 'em, they swear they're doing their best. And they can finally stop paying part of Jaromir Jagr's salary after this season. That alone is reason to celebrate.
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