52 52 52 Week #21: Canada

In which I examine crappy local sports journalism on a statecountry-by-statecountry basis, progressing through the states countries in terms of an alphabetical ordering of the heights of their tallest points. Because I can.

I know I've been a bit tardy on deadlines this week, but you can bet I'm being extra-punctual with this week's 52 52 52. Since I'm spending all of Sunday traveling to an undisclosed location in Central America (I shit you not), I'm going to have to make this entry a bit brief. So sorry to our neighbor to the North, which makes the cut as the 52nd state right ahead of Puerto Rico. After all, they had the Expos way longer. If that doesn't make them deserving of this bizarre weekly series of mine, I can't imagine what would.

Canada boasts the second tallest peak in North America, with its 19,551-foot Mount Logan beating everyone except Alaska's Mount McKinley. So fuck yeah for America and its 1860s territorial purchases from the Russians! It's a catchy refrain, you've got to admit.

And now for some fast facts regarding everybody's favorite highpoint in the Yukon Territory that may or may not be named after Wolverine...

1. OK, OK, it was really named after Sir William Edmond Logan, who didn't even have the decency to have an adamantium skeleton. Nah, he was just a geologist. And not even a geologist with retractable claws.

2. It's pretty fucking cold up at the summit. On May 26, 1991, it got as low as -108 degrees (and of course I mean Fahren-fucking-heit) up there, which is the coldest natural temperature ever recorded outside Antarctica. So, um, pack a jacket.

3. Apparently former Prime Minister Jean Chretien once wanted to rename it after the even more former Prime Minister Pierre Troudeau, who is most famous for this one time his wife ran off to have sex with the Rolling Stones for two weeks (not that there's anything wrong with that). However, the name change failed due to opposition from, and I'm quoting here, "Yukoners, mountaineers, geologists, Trudeau's political critics, and many other Canadians." I really think they could have just said "everybody in Canada except for maybe a couple of Quebecois jerkoffs", but what do I know? I'm not Wikipedia...not yet, anyway.

Speaking of Quebecois jerkoffs - and I should stress I have nothing personal against Quebec, except that as a proud France-hating Brit I really do have to hate France's bastard offspring on principle - this week's article comes from the Montreal Gazette. Sure, I maybe should have gone with a newspaper from the Yukon Territory, but the only articles I could find were all about me striking it rich in the Gold Rush of 1898. Man, I miss The Yukon Trail, another exciting game from MECC! Not that I'm advertising, you understand.

Anyway, Pat Hickey has the floor on something or other NHL-related. No, please, stick with me. This might just be worth reading anyway.

You would think that a couple of U.S. lawyers would have a firm understanding of freedom of speech, but National Hockey League commissioner Gary Bettman and his right-hand man, Bill Daly, trampled all over the First Amendment to the United States Constitution this week.

Conversely, you'd think that a random Canadian sports columnist would have a piss-poor grip on the Constitution. *SPOILER ALERT* This article is going to prove just that.

The folks in the NHL front office brought an end to the most entertaining hockey story of the offseason when they ordered Anaheim general manager Brian Burke and his Edmonton counterpart, Kevin Lowe, to stop sniping at each other.

The who and the what now?

In case you came in late, Burke accused Lowe of driving up the price of business in the NHL by giving offer sheets last year to restricted free agents Thomas Vanek and Dustin Penner.

Huh...that sounds...potentially...maybe...ever so slightly...no, sorry, I can't really go ahead and call that "interesting." I tried though.

Lowe countered by calling Burke a "moron" and suggested that Burke had little to do with Anaheim's Stanley Cup victory in 2007.

OK...now we might be getting somewhere. I must admit I like that Lowe merely said Burke had "little" to do with it instead of nothing. As far as insults are concerned, you've always got to concede a little if you want to gain a lot. That's just basic insult theory.

You couldn't make this stuff up.

And who would want to?

(Admittedly, if Arli$$ was still on and I was about 20% more hackneyed than I actually am, I might just have made an "other than the writers of Arli$$?" joke there. But thank goodness we don't live in this hellish alternate existence.)

Daly said the feud was bad for business, but he missed the essential point - people were talking about the NHL and the buzz around the water cooler was more interesting than waiting for Mats Sundin to make a decision on his future.

Who was talking about this? I mean, I don't want to underestimate the importance of hockey in Canada, but this made absolutely zero impact in the United States. Now, I'm not trying to be an American supremacist here, I'm just pointing out that this supposed business-boosting brouhaha (how you like my alliteration now?) made nary a dent in the country where a good 75% of NHL franchises are located.

Also, wasn't this supposed to be about free speech in some way? Eh, I'll just point out that private organizations such as the NHL have the right to moderate the speech of its employees within certain limits. If our resident law student wants to expand, he's more than welcome, but at its most basic - this is in no sense a free speech issue. Which, judging by the fact that Pat Hickey completely forgot about it after the first sentence, might be something he realized as well.

Wrigley on ice: The NHL seems determined to make an outdoor game as much a part of the annual landscape as season-opening games in Europe.

And why not? It's easily the best idea they've had in years. Well except for that awesome gap year the NHL took a few years back. Really made fans appreciate what they had for so long taken for granted.

It shouldn't come as a surprise because NBC, the U.S. television rightsholder that doesn't pay for the rights, wants an encore for the successful game this year in Buffalo.

The fact that NBC wants anything to do with regular season hockey is an immensely good sign, and yet somehow I get the sense Pat Hickey is not pleased.

The next edition of the game will be played at Wrigley Field and will feature the Chicago Blackhawks against the Detroit Red Wings. There's no word yet on how the NHL will deal with those fans who watch games from the roofs of neighbouring buildings.

Wait...is that his objection?

Tale of two countries: You might recall that Oren Koules and Len Barrie, the new owners of the Tampa Bay Lightning, had trouble finding someone to finance their purchase of the team. They came up with one-quarter of the $200-million purchase price and former owner Bill Davidson was so anxious to cash out that he's holding an IOU for the balance.

An IOU? It's really true - in every single way, billionaires are like seven-year-olds. Or characters if fifties sitcoms. Kind of a mix really.

The situation is quite different here in Canada, where Darryl Katz was able to secure a $100-million loan to complete his purchase of the Edmonton Oilers. The 6.37-per-cent interest rate is considered high for this type of purchase, but it's hardly usurious.

Ooh, somebody's got a vocabulary. What an insufferably portentous auctorial fellow! I say, wot?

Huh...I broke into a British accent for a second there. Weird.

Katz was able to find money because the strong loonie - it's actually a weak U.S. dollar - has made Canadian NHL teams more viable and the resource-based economy in Edmonton is booming.

I'm sorry, but when your country's favorable economy can really be described in terms of "the strong loonie", how the fuck do you expect anybody to take you seriously? I mean, sure, your economy might not collapse in the next ten years, but at least nobody laughs when they hear the word "dollar." Well, at least not in terms of how it sounds.

Salary cap update: It's a tossup which team is in the worst position vis-a-vis the salary cap in the NHL, the Los Angeles Kings or the Anaheim Ducks.

For fuck's sake - is Los Angeles just incapable of supporting a sports team? I mean, we all know the Lakers are going to fold within six months of Jack Nicholson kicking the bucket.

The Kings are $12 million below the $40-million floor and they have been non-players in the free-agent market. They do have some restricted free agents like Jarret Stoll and Patrick

O'Sullivan to sign, but they might be forced to overpay just to meet the minimum.

Nice formatting. And shouldn't there be more than two sentences of vague "analysis"?

The Ducks are one of four teams that are currently above the $56.3-million cap. They have overspent by $2.4 million and it can't all be Kevin Lowe's fault.

Oh, I'm sure this Burke guy would beg to differ. I cannot wait to talk about this at those Central American water coolers!

There's another sentence, but it's boring. Fine, you asked for it...

Other teams over the cap are the Philadelphia Flyers, Chicago Blackhawks and the Calgary Flames.

See?

I think this article needed more discussion of dating Madonna. I mean in a theoretical sense. Do you think it would help or hurt to like her music? Wait, what am I thinking? Got to save shit this profound for the next column...

52 52 52 Week #20: Vermont

In which I examine crappy local sports journalism on a state-by-state basis, progressing through the states in terms of an alphabetical ordering of the heights of their tallest points. Because I can.

If there was ever a week when 52 52 52 wasn't going to happen, it was probably this one. (Well, other than the four weeks I'm about to spend out of the country, but let's burn that bridge when we get to it.) After all, it's still Independence Weekend (and if that isn't the term, it should be), and I still am under no obligation to do anything other than affirm my love of all things America in the most jingoistic way possible. Which, as far as I'm concerned, involves blowing up Spanish battleships in the name of payback, "Remember the Maine" style. Because that's how I roll.

For after all, as the state motto of Vermont says, "Live free or die!" And if you think of blogging as synonymous with living free and not blogging as much like death, well then...

Ah, I see. I'm being told that "Live free or die" is actually New Hampshire's motto. Honest mistake, that. What's Vermont's? "Freedom and Unity", eh? Well then, if freedom is blogging, and unity is not taking July 4th weekend off, I think you can see how...ah, fuck it.

Point is, we're on Vermont this week, and its stylish Mount Mansfield, clocking in at 4,393 feet. I'd like to think Mount Mansfield was the source of a bunch of really immature jokes by Vermont schoolboys in the 1950s, thanks to the popularity of the truly spectacularly-chested Jayne Mansfield. You know, a lot of stuff about wanting to "mount Mansfield" and other similarly hilarious repartee passed around during hiking excursions. A man can dream. And, because this is still America dammit, a man can supplement the following three facts with pictures of Jayne Mansfield. Because I am, like my last post said, a motherfucking hero.

1. From Wikipedia: "Mount Mansfield is one of the two spots in Vermont where true alpine tundra survives from the ice ages." At the risk of a very, very hackneyed joke that is sure to piss off Djmmm, I think there's a definite chance I may have to revise that joke by 2018. You know, because of global warming. Melting ice, people. Fuck, I probably should have spent more time phrasing that joke and less time apologizing for it. Ah well, no need to apologize for this...



King of the segue, yes sir.

2. Mount Mansfield is the home of the Stowe skiing resort. I'm sure it's a very nice place, but I'm guessing it was at a slightly warmer clime that this photo was snapped...



Not that I'd complain with more ski-appropriate attire. Those fifties gals sure knew how to stretch a sweater. And, by that, I mean they had almost cartoonish busts. Eh, no "almost" about it.

3. Also from Wikipedia: "The mountain has the appearance of a (quite elongated) human face when viewed from the east or west with distinct forehead, nose, lips, chin (the highest point) and an Adam's apple."



I imagine much of that might also be true about Jayne Mansfield, but I haven't quite bothered to check yet. Well, apart from the Adam's apple. Hopefully. Eh, with breasts (or, as us classy folks call them, "gazongas") like that, I won't quibble.

Now that I'm good and horny (which is my preferred writing style, not unlike Oscar Wilde, and we all know how he turned out...wait, he turned out how?), let's talk some Vermont sports journalism. Kenneth Wells of the Newport Daily Express steps up with a piece on a Canadian NASCAR driver. I had vowed to never discuss Canada and NASCAR, but such is the world in which we find ourselves. Also, when the grammar and mechanics are this atrocious, I just can't resist. It's the pedantic dick in me. Mr. Wells?

He’s young, good looking and has that quality personality that fans and friends alike can root for.

"Quality personality"? Not to sound like a stereotypical horny dude in a shitty comedy (too late, I know), but when has that ever not been used as a euphemism? What does this dude have? Genital warts? I'm going to go with genital warts.

For Joliette, Qué. native Patrick Carpentier a big step towards respectability in his chosen profession was taken.

Oh, he's from Quebec. Close enough. To genital warts, I mean.

Man, this is one hell of a dirty post. I guess this is what I get for talking about Canada so soon after the 4th of July. John Adams must be spinning in his XXL grave.

He emerged as the NASCAR Pole sitter in the Lennox Industrial Equipment 301 race this past weekend.

Just to finish off the utterly juvenile trifecta: heh, heh...pole.

The 37 year old turned the mile oval in 29.349 seconds and called it his,"biggest" accomplishment in a career dating back more than a decade. Carpentier said, "Its amazing." There is going to be busloads of people down here, and that’s what the objective is, to grow the fan base of NASCAR here and bring more people in. A lot of people in Canada are starting to be fans.”

Here's a fun game - let's play "Count the grammatical, mechanical, and formatting errors!" in that last mess of text. The game's so fun, it's totally sick! Well, sic, at the very least. This man isn't just the editor of the sports section like last week's Sara Mettlen; he's the fucking publisher of the entire newspaper. For goodness sake, I think I could dig up articles I wrote for my middle school newspaper that are better written than that. And hell, I'm always looking for a new gimmick...

Patrick is smiling, and genuinely appreciative of his feat which could make him the perfect Canadian ambassador for the sport. He continued," I am really happy, and hopefully this will help me stick around for a few years.”

Him winning the pole in a minor NASCAR race makes him the perfect Canadian ambassador for the sport? The sad thing is, I totally buy that.

Patrick Carpentier, who makes his home in Las Vegas now is a likable person and his story is somewhat a Cinderella version.

Seriously...was this originally written in English? I'm perfectly willing to redact this post if this was actually a French language article badly translated but, but...I doubt it, somehow.

Honestly, this is like shooting fish in a barrel. If there was one fish that completely filled the barrel. And the water was frozen. And the gun was glued to the fish. And the gun was set to auto-fire. And even if you missed, it still counted as a successful shooting of fish in a barrel. That's how easy mocking this article is. It's almost beneath me. Thank goodness I'm unbelievably petty.

He is easy to pull, for less than two years ago he came to Loudon during the Sylvania 300 weekend to basically introduce himself to potential sponsors.

He's easy to pull? What, one can, as Wiktionary so eloquently puts it, "persuade [him] to have sex with one"? He really is Quebecois...

It's obvious that Kenneth Wells is forcing his children to write articles for him. Here's the real question though: was it his twelve-year-old or five-year-old? Keep in mind, his twelve-year-old is going through a bit of a geek phase, so you'd think there'd be some random Gundam Wing reference crowbarred in there somewhere. You know, much like I did there. Overall, I'm going with five-year-old on the day he learned to use spell check. Because, atrocious as the usage might be, at least some of the words are spelled correctly.

Carpentier has never finished higher than 23rd, but, if he can ever hang close enough and long enough to capture the checkers, there may well be a new national holiday up north.

If he wins one obscure NASCAR race, Canada will designate a national holiday? Look, I know the Stephen Harper premiership has gotten people down, but let's not take things to completely radical extremes.

See! I even know the name of Canada's prime minister. Admittedly, I thought it was James Harper until I looked it up, but isn't it the effort that counts? So, um...yay America!

The Column Thingy #2: Independence Day means another week until I really start

That's right, I'm calling this "The Column Thingy." Originality was never my strong suit.

If you're reading this, it's because I am currently in a campground without internet access. And no, unlike pretty much everyone in my last post, I haven't been kidnapped, I'm just on vacation. Because, as I'm sure you all know, today is July 4, famous throughout these United States as the birthday of Hiram Walker, the grocer and distiller. And Independence Day. But really, mostly Hiram Walker.

Of course, thanks to Blogger Scheduler, I'm really writing this two days beforehand, on July 2. Which, weirdly enough, is entirely appropriate, because independence was really declared on July 2, and it's only the relatively less important adoption of the Declaration of Independence that happened on July 4. John Adams even wrote to his wife that July 2 would be known forever as the most important date in American history. Collectors, ever the scrupulous bunch, simply changed the date to July 4. So yeah, a free history lesson.

Anyway, since I just (from my perspective) wrote that whole Dash Dartwell post, I'm going to keep this one short. I'm really sorry I keep teasing a column and then rather spectacularly failing to deliver, but circumstance is a bitch. I believe it was Rousseau who said that.

Anyway, in lieu of a proper column, I present to you the most American YouTube video I could find. And believe me, I looked. Shockingly, there's a truly worrisome lack of Batman kicking ass for America on the series of tubes. For a while, I was going to embed this video, because I happen to love The Great Dictator and the utterly shameless earnestness of the greatest shattering of the fourth wall in cinematic history, but I thought a long speech by a British expat dressed like Hitler was a bit too much of a mixed message, no matter the context. Still, the link is there, and I certainly don't discourage you checking it out.

So, instead, I present this. Since the original poster had disabled embedding, I had to upload the damn thing myself. You know, because I'm a hero.



Be safe, have a great Independence Day, and I'll see you Sunday.


Interlopin' Djmmm: Wait a minute, I'm the only real American on this here blog? You know what that means....