The negativity in this blog? It sucks!

Mark it down. At approximately 11 o’clock PM, Thursday, April 28th, Anthony gave up on the 2005 Boston Celtics.

I’ve given up before. I’ll be the first to admit I gave up on the 2004 Red Sox after Game 3 of the ALCS. I never got to fully enjoy the World Series win because I believed in my head that these were just exhibition games, and the Sox had already been eliminated. I’m a pretty optimistic type. I don’t think a game is over until it’s thoroughly unrealistic a team can come back.

The Celtics are only down 2-1. Numerous teams have been down 2-1 and won a best of seven series. The Celtics are a younger team than the Indiana Pacers, and they have more pure talent all around. Two of the four best players on the Pacers are either injured or suspended for being a goddamn maniac. One of those two is the best defensive player in the game, and the other plays the most important position on the court. The latter also doesn’t have much of a backup in his position.

But tonight’s loss wasn’t just ugly. It was heartbreaking. I had confidence in this team. I had no realistic expectation of them winning the NBA championship, but during their 10-1 run, I was telling people it was almost a lock that they would make it to the Eastern Conference Finals. They matched up well with every team in the conference. Hell, they even stood a chance against the Heat. I mean, Antoine Walker was back. Ever since he left, Pierce was moping and underachieving. Now Toine was back, and Pierce was playing like the superstar he was. Antoine got better, too. In his first few games back, he was dominating the low post and sinking plenty of purty hook shots. He was coming up with blocks, playing great defense, making plays, and he was rebounding. He was everthing we wanted from him and maybe more. The rest of the team was kicking ass, too. Al Jefferson learned at an inhuman pace how to become a monster in the low post, and was even making a few nice plays on defense. Tony Allen was shutting opposing players down, developing a jump shot and providing tons of energy. Delonte West was a three-point shooting machine. Ricky Davis made Celtics fans forget about the cocky, childish punk he was perceived to be a year ago and became the ultimate scoring threat off the bench, all while becoming a model citizen. Mark Blount was underachieving after getting a big contract in the offseason, but Kendrick Perkins and Raef LaFrentz were both very capable of shouldering the load down low, especially LaFrentz, who I’ve been hard on this year. The Celtics were winning games against good teams. They weren’t playing down to their opponents, and they weren’t losing big leads in the 4th like they had all season. This was supposed to be a team in progress, a team maybe a year way from really contending. But there they were, butting heads with Detroit, beating them in Boston and going the distance with them in OT on the road.
I believed in this team. Even when they ran into the trouble near the end of the season, I just chalked it up to bad luck. Surely, they’d get their heads straight in the playoffs. When they kicked the Pacers’ ass in the first game, my suspicions had been confirmed: this team is going to be a monster in the playoffs.

As Zack De La Rocha once said, “Anything can change on a New Year’s Day”.

Doc didn’t necessarily get out-coached in Game 2. He just undercoached himself. He didn’t give Pierce a breather when he knew the game was going to be close heading into crunch time. If he had opened the 4th quarter with a lineup of Banks, West, Allen, Jefferson, and Perkins, with Ricky coming in for Allen somewhat early, Antoine, Payton, Raef, and, most importantly, Pierce would’ve all had fresh legs. The Celtics scored four points in the last four minutes of that game. Ricky had a bad shot all night, and GP wasn’t getting much done either. These things happen. So what do you do when your jumpers aren’t falling? Pound it inside. Take it to the hoop, draw some fouls, drain some free throws, and put the game away. When your stars play 40 minutes out of a possible 48, they’re gonna be tired. They aren’t gonna have the energy to beat Jermaine O’Neal, bad shoulder and all, nevermind Carlisle’s defensive schemes.
So the Celtics lost a game they could’ve easily won. So what? It happens all the time in sports. But then this wretched athletic abortion they called Game 3 happened tonight. The Celtics are in way over their heads. Doc Rivers, as good a motivator as he is, sucks at coaching a game. I’m not saying I could do any better, but sometimes I wonder. It wasn’t entirely Doc’s fault. Pierce was the only guy who could get things going on offense. Everyone else can’t score to save their lives. Antoine overreacted to a foul call and shoved a ref, which means he’s probably gone at least one game. We played all right on defense, but nothing to write home about, especially when you let a 39-year old who flops more than Ric Flair drop 33 on you. These Pacers, however old they are, however bitch-like their tactics and players are, and no matter how much the league wants them to win so they can get their Pacers-Pistons rematch, came prepared to win this series. They have experience and they have the necessary mix of talent and heart, even if that “heart” is a bunch of whiny pussies who attack fans and get cheap fouls in their favor.

I love to point out when media members, both local and national, make a prediction (particularly about the Patriots) that turns out to be egregiously wrong. I’m going to make one that will probably be just as idiotic and farsighted as anything Skip Bayless, Ron Borges, or half the shit on Page2 says.

This Celtics team, which once played at a level that led me to believe they would be contending for a championship in 2006, will not get out of the first round. They will open the 2005-06 season without Paul Pierce, Antoine Walker, or Gary Payton on the roster. Whether the Pierce trade is beneficial, we’ll see. Antoine may be signed and traded, or he might just be let go. Payton’s probably gone altogether.
I only took up a strong interest in basketball because hockey was gone. If the Bruins are back next year, the Celtics will go back to #4. I don’t know what to think anymore. I promised myself I wouldn’t complain about Boston sports for at least 5 years. The Red Sox gave me a World Series, and the Pats have given me a dynasty. I have no right to whine. I’m going to watch game 4 and game 5. I’ll watch game 6 and 7 if they’re necessary. I think the Celts will pull one out and extend it to six, but that’s probably gonna be it. I’ll keep an eye on what they do in the offseason. I honestly have no idea what Ainge will do. It’ll be interesting. But, once again, I’ve given up.

Hopefully the assholes can prove me wrong again.

Crimethink

I’ve had enough.

White people, stop saying “bling” and using “izzle” as a suffix. I saw a commercial for a “Make your own Bling Kit” on Cartoon Network, which allows you to paste fake diamonds on your cell phone. I hate the term “bling”. I went to school with a few black teenagers, ones whom you’d classify as “Urban Youths”, and they never said “bling”. I see quite a few African-Americans in my travels in Boston, and they don’t yell “bling bling!” at me, flashing their diamonds. I don’t know where it came from, but it needs to stop. It’s getting very annoying.

The Shizzle stuff got obnoxious a few months ago. The novelty of Snoop Dogg as a non-threatening former rapper/lovable celebrity kinda wore off shortly after Starsky and Hutch. I got nothing against the guy, I like his early 90s stuff (kinda), but he created a monster with his fo shizzle shit. And once again, I only hear white people using it. It’s gotta stop.

I sound like an uptight conservative white guy, and 75% of that description is accurate, but it’s really starting to piss me off.

(Weew) Nick Arcade! (Weeew) Nick Arcade! (Wow wow wow wow wawawa wa!)

Since I came upon some money last weekend, I’ve been taking a few trips to Good Times, the arcade near me. I get $5 worth of tokens, and I spend it on (depending on the time of day) two to three different machines.
Machine #1 is the batting cage. It provides a big boost of confidence when guys who are bigger and in better shape than you can’t hit the batting cage fastball (which isn’t all that fast). Every so often, a talented middle-schooler will come in with his cute little bat and pound the shit out of the ball. There’s also the occasional adult who probably played in high school or college. He usually gives the ball a ride as well. Anyway, I was having nice, if not consistent success with my Sammy Sosa swing. I’ve been using it for the past few years after modifying it from my Ken Griffey Jr. swing. The main distinguishing factor is the very large toe-tap that needed to be timed perfectly. The plus to this swing was that I pulled the ball like crazy, usually getting a few foul-line shots. The minus was that it fucked up my shoulder big time, as well as it took a few rounds in a new cage to get used to the timing of a machine for my toe-tap.
After being forced by MLB schedulemakers to watch the Yankees six times in nine games to start off the season (I love Sox-Yankees, but not this early), I’ve watched a lot of Gary Sheffield. I admire his bat speed, and I wonder if it’s the reason why I can’t hit anything remotely fast. So I tried mixing his swing with Barry Bonds’ swing. And I did pretty well. I hit the ball harder than I ever did with my Sosa swing, and on a much more frequent basis. Now I need to try it with the fast-pitch machine in South Yarmouth. Stay tuned. I’m sure you’re interested.
Machine #2 is optional, and the identity of the machine itself fluctuates. If I go on a school night (or a weekday, for that matter), no one’s playing it, so neither do I. Machine #2 can be Capcom vs SNK 2, Street Fighter III Third Strike, King of Fighters 2003, or even Project Justice (even though I’ve never seen anyone play it). Good Times has since relocated these machines from their standard location near the go-karts to the raised corner that one point featured the classic machines and then the simulators (DrumScape, Brave Firefighters, that Airplane game, countless jetski and racing games). I swear mon, Good Times moves their machines more than I lose my keys in my apartment (which is a lot). I’ve known for a while from Marvel vs Capcom 2 that kids flock to the cheap characters. Cable, Hulk, Juggernaut, Cable, Iceman, Cyclops, Cable, Sentinel, Cable; they love the guys who have attacks that take up the entire screen. This is the primary reason I stay away from MVC2 (that, and the pace is too damn frantic and fast for my slow decision-making brain). I figured this wouldn’t be a problem in CVS2, but I was wrong. None of my friends use Chang, which is a good thing. Why? Chang takes up the entire screen, has priority in his attacks over everyone, takes little damage, and deals plenty of it. You have to be good to use him effectively, but it’s also not all that hard to do well with the guy.
Machine #3 is GuitarFreaks. I might have mentioned it here before, but GuitarFreaks is, as Carl would say, fricken awesome. Like DDR, I can’t handle any of the tough songs, and my arm hurts like a motherfucker afterwards, but I enjoy it immensely. If you haven’t seen it, it’s pretty neato. There’s a giant guitar controller with three buttons along the neck and a bar on the center of the body of the guitar that resembles a very wide light switch. On the screen, there’s three bars, one for each button on the neck, like measures on a music sheet. Notes cross a plane on one of the (or multiple) measures, and you need to strum the lever while holding down the corresponding button. It’s easier than playing a real guitar, because it’s like playing one with only three chords and one string. It’s buckets of fun. Which makes me wonder, not only why Konami hasn’t released it for American consoles, but…
If Konami released a game called “Rock and Roll Band” or something (I’ve been listening to a lot of Boston lately), it could be the ultimate party game. They could make a ton of money from it, too. Think about this. With one PS2 multitap, combined with the two USB ports, that’s potentially two microphones and five instruments. Two microphones: lead and backup vocals. Release a PS2 GuitarFreaks controller, and there’s your lead guitar, rhythm guitar, and bass right there. Release a BeatMania (I think that’s what it’s called) drum controller, and there’s your drumset. All of these instruments could also be controlled by a regular controller (except the microphone), so no one would be left out. Hell, you could even add a DDR pad and make someone be a dancer. You wouldn’t use a lot of space on the disc animating the band or anything, because the screen would be covered in each instrument’s gauge (unless each one would be transparent). It would judge the singers like in Karaoke Revolution, the guitarists and bassists like in GuitarFreaks, and the drummer like in BeatMania. If no one wants to play the drums, the computer would do it. It would be like a sports game; each player chooses their instrument, and the computer assumes every other duty (even singing).
Why am I not in charge of Konami?

Complainarama!

You know what I hate? Sugar substitutes. NutraSweet, Aspartame, Splenda, Sweet n Low, Sucralose, all of em. Now, I know what you’re saying. If you don’t like it, don’t drink it. This is harder than it seems. It appears that drink manufacturers no longer want you to know what you’re drinking. They no longer post DIET explicitly on the can, and when they do, the rest of the container doesn’t look any different than the standard fare. In some cases, they don’t put anything on there except maybe “Calorie Free”.
Why the sudden backlash against diet beverages? Because they’ve been tricking me lately. A few weeks ago, I bought a bottle of Arizona Blueberry Iced Tea. It proclaimed itself Lo-Carb, but I didn’t think much of it. I searched the ingredients, and there was no aspartame. Cool. I bring it home, and I get that shitty aspartame taste. Splenda? What the fuck? So that’s been collecting dust in my fridge, if such a thing is possible. Last week, I bought a large can of Arizona Peach Iced Tea. Of course, it was Diet Peach Iced Tea, but they print the “diet” in a way that it almost blends in with the background. Here’s a picture, but this picture doesn’t do it justice. When stacked next to other non-diet beverages, it looks just like every one. And remember when diet drinks had a completely different-looking can? Pepsi forgot to do this, as their diet can looked just like their regular can until they changed it in the late 90s. Does Arizona remember this? Do they understand that most people want to lose weight, but they don’t drink Diet sodas for a reason (primary reason: they taste like shit)?
The real outrage goes to Clearly Canadian. I fucking loved Clearly Canadian when I was a kid. I couldn’t find it after a while, but about a year ago, the Brooks near my house started selling it again. Far out. I drink it all summer, but there’s none near me when I go to school. So I come home last weekend, and we stop at Brooks hoping to get some leftover Easter candy cheap (there wasn’t much). I get Cherry flavored Clearly Canadian.

And there’s fucking sucralose in it.

Why did they do this to me? According to the website:
We recognized the heightened demand in today’s marketplace for healthier food and beverage choices that provide a lower carbohydrate and calorie choice and still deliver on taste. We have reformulated Clearly Canadian to meet the needs of contemporary consumers while staying true to the legacy of our great Clearly Canadian flavours.

Well that’s nice. EXCEPT YOU JUST TOOK A BIG SHIT ON THE LEGACY OF YOUR GREAT FLAVOURS. It burns me! I loved this shit. They replaced the high-fructose corn syrup with cane sugar, which is fine. 365 does it, as does Phylo Tea, which I’ve just discovered. But why do you have to add sucralose? Maybe it doesn’t cause brain cancer like NutraSweet, but it still tastes like shit. Why couldn’t you just sell your magical formula as Clearly Canadian Pure or something like that? Why? The bottle looks exactly the same.

Why does someone always ruin everything I like? I should just take up shuffleboard or something. That never changes, although I’m sure if I started playing it, then it would become trendy and you’d get Aviril Levigne clones, or however you spell the bitch’s name, fucking up my shuffleboard, giving me the horns and telling me how cool anarchy would be.

Seriously. Everything I like gets ruined, usually shortly after I discover it. Videogames? Taken over by “GAMERZLOL:)==>”. Red Sox? Taken over by pink hats, Sweet Caroline and Jimmy Fallon. Sealab? Goz dies and it turns to shit. Home Movies? Cancelled. WCW? Folds. Rage Against the Machine? Breaks up.

And people ask me why I’m such a hermit, living a few miles away from anyone in my age level.

Actually, no one’s asked me that.

Leave my binky alone

I’ve just about had it with the way Pedro’s been treated in Boston since he left. Now, I know most media personalities, especially in Boston, have their “binkies”, or someone whom they hold in higher regard than most other athletes. For Glenn Ordway, it’s Antoine. For Pete Sheppard, it’s Brady. For Greg Dickerson, it’s Rodney Harrison. For Dale Arnold, it’s Ray Bourque. For John Dennis, it’s Brad Faxon. For Bill Simmons, it’s Larry. For Dan LeBatard, it’s Ricky Williams. For Pedro Gomez, it’s Barry Bonds. For Anthony Ardolino, it’s Pedro Martinez.
My binky is Pedro. I’ve said it at least twice before on this LJ. Pedro was my favorite player on the Sox. I’ve never met him. I’ve never even seen him pitch in person. I liked him because he was a damn good pitcher, one of the best ever, and despite his diva attitude, he actually gave a damn about what he did on the field. His only weakness was that he was too honest. He represented what a lot of people, including myself, hate in athletes — the ego, the cockiness, the overlying desire for money (a.k.a “respect”) — but he enraptured me. A man who started out with nothing and became quite possibly the richest man in the Dominican Republic. A man who, from 1998 to 2002, was almost literally unhittable. Before 2004, you could count the number of times he had been rocked on a parrot’s foot. For that one stretch of time, he was the best in pitcher in baseball and quite possibly the best ever in the modern era, matched perhaps only by Koufax in terms of sheer dominance. Clemens was great, and did it longer, but not nearly this good.
But when 2004 came around, we knew two things. One, 2004 Pedro wasn’t as good as 1999 Pedro, and two, when his contract expired at the end of the year, some team like the Angels, Mets, or even the Yankees will throw tons of money at him, thinking they’re getting 1999 Pedro. We secretly hoped his good-but-not-great 2004 numbers would convince him to stay for less. But, to quote the god-damn-awesome ending to Snake Eater, something happened that no one could have predicted.
The Boston Red Sox won the World Series for the first time in 86 years.
Now, despite what Boston Dirt Dogs tells you, Curt Schilling didn’t singlehandedly win the World Series. He didn’t steal second in Game 4 of the ALCS. He didn’t hit the home run in Game 6 against the Yankees, nor did he strike out Tony Clark with the tying run on second. He didn’t hit the grand slam in Game 7. He didn’t go out there in Game 1, 3, or 4 of the World Series. He didn’t hit a home run to break a tie in the 8th in Game 1. He didn’t throw out Larry Walker at home, he didn’t hit a bases-loaded double to put Game 7 out of reach. Make no mistake, Schilling’s starts in Game 6 and Game 2 were huge. He kept the Yanks and Cardinals out of the game before they ever had a chance to get in. The bloody sock will be as much a figure in Boston lore as Orr flying through the air, Havlicek stealing the ball, and Vinatieri splitting the uprights. But Curt Schilling didn’t win the 2004 World Series.
The Boston Red Sox won the 2004 World Series.
That includes Byung Hyun Kim, Ramiro Mendoza, Cesar Crespo, Andy Dominique, Doug Mienkiewicz, Nomar Garciaparra, and Pedro Fucking Martinez. Pedro Martinez kicked the Angels’ collective asses in Game 2. He pitched Game 2 and 5 of the ALCS well enough to win. He left the Cardinals gibbering vegetables in Game 3, all but clinching the trophy. Pedro Martinez had no more or less an effect on the outcome as Schilling, Lowe, Wakefield, Foulke, Manny, Bellhorn, Damon, Ortiz, or Roberts. Without any of them, things wouldn’t have gone like they did, and we might be complaining right now about 87 long years of heartbreak. I may be partial, but Pedro Martinez was every bit as important as any of the 25 men. As far was we know, he might have been more important.
Pedro doesn’t owe us a thing. He said he wanted to stay here, and he very well may have been full of shit. We offered him more money than we thought he was worth, and the Mets offered him more money and another year. If you are a smart human being, you’ll take the money. If his arm falls off next week, the Mets owe him all four years. He wouldn’t have got that from the Sox. The negotiations were ugly. The Sox tried to justify their low offer with his 2004 stats, which was expected. Pedro took offense to this, as one would also expect. Omar Minaya blew smoke up his ass, made him feel like 1999 Pedro, and he signed to play in Flushing.
Good for him, I say. He did his time here. He gave us at least five years of the greatest pitching the world will ever see. He helped us win a World Series. He didn’t show up for the ring ceremony because he was being paid $14 million by the Mets to be at their home opener. If you think he should’ve skipped the Mets home opener for his former team, you’re delusional and an emotional bitch. I would have loved to see him there yesterday. Pedro holds no ill will towards the fans. He hasn’t said anything negative about us, only the management, whom he thinks lowballed him. And he’s probably correct in that assumption too. With the money we saved on him, we signed Wells, Clement and Wade Miller. We all knew Pedro was gone after last year. If we kept him, fantastic. But we all knew he was gonna take the money. He may be bitter towards Sox management, but that doesn’t mean we should be bitter about him. He’s a Met now. Wish him luck. It looks like he’s gonna have a good season, if his first two starts are any indication. He gave us everything we wanted and more. He’s gone now, and he spout out a little more than we wanted to hear, but that doesn’t erase everything he did for us.

Leave Pedro alone.

Prediction? Pain.

So here’s my predictions for the upcoming MLB season. So there.

TEAM FINISHES (*=Wild Card)
————-
AL East
Yankees
Red Sox *
Orioles
Blue Jays
Devil Rays

AL Central
Twins
Indians
Tigers
White Sox
Royals

AL West
Angels
Mariners
Rangers
A’s

NL East
Braves
Marlins
Mets
Phillies
Nationals

NL Central
Cardinals
Cubs*
Astros
Reds
Pirates
Brewers

NL West
Padres
Diamondbacks
Giants
Dodgers
Rockies

ALCS: Twins over Red Sox
NLCS: Braves over Cubs
WS: Twins over Braves

Player Awards
—————-
AL MVP: David Ortiz
NL MVP: Albert Pujols

AL Cy Young: Johan Santana
NL Cy Young: Jason Schmidt

AL Batting Champion: Ichiro
NL Batting Champion: Albert Pujols

Miscallenous

• Ichiro will break his own single season hit record. He will hit above .380, but probably won’t reach .400
• Randy Johnson will be good when he’s healthy, but he’ll miss more than a month total with injures
• Barry Bonds will be playing by June
• Ken Griffey Jr. will have a productive first half to the season, the Reds will win and trade Wily Mo Pena
• Ken Griffey Jr. will get injured in July and the Reds will fall out of contention