Simmons tries to pretend like he never had a silver spoon in his mouth; some asshole dives into the deepest part of the deep end re: steroids
Whew, writing that title was a lot of work. Not sure how much energy I've got left for the post. Tonight I found two short articles worth bitching about, so I'll write about both. You're welcome. But wait! Bonus item (thanks to tips in the comments to the last post), before I get to the Simmons article:
is this the greatest sporting event of 2013 (so far)? They just went end to end for 34 OT minutes. This is amazing.
— Bill Simmons (@BillSimmons) June 6, 2013
In fact, no! No it is not. It did involve DA FACKIN' BROONS though, so Bill needed to check in with his Tweeps to see if everyone else was as impressed as he was. He probably has a yearly Google calendar alert that pops up on June 1 that says something like "Check to see if Bruins are still in playoffs; if yes, follow them, if not, Tweet about disappointing recent lack of success and strain it puts on fanbase." Now for the article. Don't worry, it's not recent; Grantland, realizing that there is an insatiable demand for Simmons articles from fuckwits nationwide, but having to cope with the reality that he only writes about one per month, has decided to start posting old articles. This one comes from the summer of 2005, just as he was completing his transition from "Bad writer who is still sometimes a little entertaining and occasionally makes you feel sorry for Boston fans" to "Bad writer who is also an insufferable piece of shit."
Outside the Boston Garden before Game 7 of the '84 NBA Finals, scalpers were getting upwards of $2,000 per ticket. Since we were fortunate enough to own midcourt seats, I remember my father perking up as we heard the numbers being tossed around on Causeway Street. Four grand for our seats? He could barely afford season tickets as it was.
You can't possibly imagine the level of intensity, the overpowering electricity in the building, how it keeps going higher and higher.
Rarely are these games well played – there's too much pressure, too much energy.
I like the unintentional foreshadowing of game 7 of the 2010 finals here. 6 FOR 24 LOLOLO LOLOLL OLO LOLOLL
Other things you do: outscore them, and in doing so, beat them.
We'll remember them as one of the weaker championship teams in recent memory,
Yell, don't yawn. A new generation of players is playing us for suckers, just as Barry Bonds, Rafael Palmeiro and Roger Clemens did. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, A-Rod, shame on me. Whether it be on the blogosphere, or in Twitterville,
The illegal use of PEDs strikes at the belief in the game. If you can't trust a player's numbers, you can't really trust the score.