Hall of Fame day and silly football follies
Jeez, it’s early. Anyone here?
Welcome to, I guess, A Blog New World (sorry Aldous) that we presume will be much like the Old Blog World only up earlier in the morning and who needs sleep, anyway?
Not sure what’ll change, maybe the scope a wee bit, maybe the format gets tweaked a little bit, but we’re still going to be all over the map and once basketball gets back – as if! – we’ll still be pretty centred on it.
Guess what we want to do is to try to drive the agenda a wee bit, figure out what you’re talking about and talk about it, let you talk about it and see where it goes.
Now, I’m not going to do this as well as Cathal did or C Young did but figure they never did The Monkees, Francis Albert, favourite Law and Order characters and they never had Irregulars to talk to or Super Son to talk about. So I’m way ahead there.
Oh, yeah, the Tall Foreheads (and there are many) are hoping we get a boost in the hits along with more chatter, more comments and more everything so if you have any friends to tell …
So, today’s Hall of Fame day, I’m told.
For the pucks, that is. With Doug Gilmour (bless his Kingston heart), Joe Niewendyk, Ed Belfour and Mark Howe getting the big enshrinement thingy at the bun toss this evening.
Good for them, they’d sure seem to have the bonafides necessary for such an honour, long and distinguished careers, championships, an impact on the game that was significant.
But, tell me, what do you think makes a Hall of Famer? As we know, I’m a bit of a hard-ass when it comes to that particular honour, I think it’s too easy for too many players in too many sports to be put into a Hall of Fame and it really does diminish it at times.
It’s needs to a combination of all of those things I mentioned – maybe winning and longevity more than the others – to be put into such august company.
One thing that can’t be a factor?
Forget goals or wins or points or yards, the numbers have been skewed so much over the years that they’re really meaningless in a lot of cases.
Some guys get 500 goals or 25,000 points or 10,000 yards rushing simply because they last a long time, or play in a better system for their skills. The eras are so different, so impossible to compare that to say a guy should get Hall consideration just because he hits a number makes no sense at all.
That does leave some subjectivity to the process and that’s okay. Aren’t such honours all about discussion and dissecting the relative merits of each individual? Isn’t that what’s one of the great parts of sports? Had a guy once tell me no one could make a Hall of Fame unless you couldn’t write a history of his sport in his era without mentioning him, that makes a lot of sense. Another guy once told me that if someone didn’t at least play for a title – not necessarily win one – he shouldn’t get in.
I’m going back to my old boy Potter Stewart to put it this way:
“I may not know what a Hall of Famer is but I know one when I see one.”
And if that engenders discussion, great; it’s what sports is supposed to do.
So, as part of that discussion, and because we’re all about cross-promotion or something like that, head on over to Faceplant, er, Facebook and vote in our “which is the best Hall of Fame” thingy and tell me why. (And if you want to one of those "like" things there, that'd be sweet of you).
We’ll chat about it tomorrow maybe.
Grunt’s Rule No. 1,320,021
If your team’s down 21 points in the second quarter and you score a touchdown, you should simply put the ball down on the ground. You should probably not make a spectacle of yourself involving your cheereleader girlfriend.
This was a tad over the top from Sunday’s Bills-Cowboys fiasco (we’re talking to you, Buffalonians), wasn’t it?
Dude scores, runs length of field, hugs sweetie, gives her the ball and then continues to watch his team get drilled?
Grunt’s Rule No. 2,201,911
If you make a play that wins a ball game in one of the most dramatic moments imaginable and you’re a little school against a giant, by all means run into the stands to see your sweetheart.
So I’m doing a little bit of a driving during the start of the Bills game Sunday and, of course, it’s on the radio because Psychedelic Sunday was kind of dry at time.
I tell ya, that’s one of the most over-sponsored broadcasts ever, isn’t it?
Coin toss sponsored.
Broadcast booth (even though it was road game) sponsored.
This play sponsored.
That play sponsored.
Injury reports sponsored.
Big play brought to you by this company.
Solid hit brought to you by that company.
You hardly had time to listen to them over-analyse every play from scrimmage for all the deals. Can’t wait for the Bills to move to Toronto so we can see what companies here come up with what deals.
And what did you do this weekend?
Yeah, about half done, I may have to cut down the 40-foot maple that still hasn’t shed a leaf yet just to make my life easier.
Oh yeah, the NBA.
You get the latest?
The league holds some Twitterview Sunday night to allegedly answer legitimate questions about its latest, final, end-of-the-process offer and it, not surprisingly, devolves into something of a mess.
I understand entirely that social media has place in society these days but to try to make convoluted points about something as serious as a deal that could ultimately scuttle an entire season may not best be done in 140 characters or less.
But nothing ventured, nothing gained, I guess.
I cannot pretend to figure out what may happen when the 30 reps get together, whether the proposal will get to the full union membership to vote or what. But I do believe we’re getting near the end game, which can’t come soon enough.
So, how’d we do today?