A new face for football needed; and all NBA GMs are chatty now
You want to know why the Argos are a bit of a joke?
First, read Zelk’s piece here about the zaniness of the last two days and tell me there aren’t some upper management issues with that team that could very well force some long-time fans to wonder what, exactly, is going on at the top.
They either hired the guy from Calgary or they didn’t; the Stamps say he’s going, the Argos say he’s not and someone’s, um, fibbing.
They’ve got a new head coach coming in today (that much we know for sure because they said it themselves) and I guess that means the old head coach is done and I guess we all just missed that announcement (which could very well be the case for me).
Anyway, the shenanigans kind of make me wonder just who’s in control over there? As has been pointed out many times – including here every now and then – this is a franchise that needs – for better or worse – someone colourful, accessible, recognizable as the go-to guy for not only the media but the fans.
They can’t seem to sell the product on the field because it’s been pretty below average most years, they don’t seem to have that one star player – a quarterback would be nice – that people can rally around and if those two things don’t happen, they need a face, a name, a person.
A Leo Cahill.
A Pinball Clemons.
Heck, even Obie was a good guy that people could relate to.
The owner’s probably a nice guy with his heart in the right place but he’s not Harry Ornest, or Bruce McNall or John Bassett or even Sherwood Schwartz, bless his out-of-his-element-like-you-can’t-believe soul.
I have no idea if this new coach, Scott Milanovich, is a dynamic personality or not, whether he’ll be able to connect with the fans and the media in a way so many in recent years haven’t been able to. No clue, really, whether he can coach; I wouldn’t imagine it’d be that hard to be a successful offensive co-ordinator of a team quarterbacked by Anthony Calvillo but maybe he’s the innovative mind and recruiter they need to jazz things up around there.
But as they lurch from one thing to another, the one pressing need they have is someone to become the guy people associate with the football team. Someone exciting and dynamic and able to sell the sizzle ‘cause the steak’s little but gristle these days.
And if they keep shooting themselves in the foot as they seem to be, that job’s going to get harder and harder and they will sink further and further into oblivion.
Too bad, too. You kind of want them to be successful.
This is a good one:
Q: Hi Doug... If you could sit beside any of the courtside celebrities for one game, who would it be?
Please provide a clip with your choice! Mine would be Woody, and the story of how he shot a moose. (or the gub spelling mistake, or the Candid Camera bit with the secretary or...)
Bob E, Kanata
A: Yes, Woody would be a nice one, no question about it. But I’m hanging with Jack because it’s a better team we’d be watching, I’d like to spend some time watching him interact with other players and coaches, we could hang with other celebrities in some party room and then we’re going out for dinner. And oldtimers will know that could be a gas.
So, I see by People magazine (which I believe is the New York Times of pop culture and all the other crap some people see as news these days) reports The Hump is seeking an annulment from what’s-her-name on the grounds of fraud.
Can the general public file a similar suit against them both to recover the lost wages and energy some of you wasted caring?
There’s nothing official just yet – might not be until Monday – but if I was you and was intently interested in seeing the HOTH’s first and only pre-season home game, I might make sure I had nothing on for the afternoon of Dec. 18.
And, yes, it’ll be Boston.
Hey, how ‘bout that Sonny Weems, who apparently hasn’t found a barber over in Lithuania quite yet.
Has 18 points, including game-winning basket as Zalgiris Kaunas wins a big EuroLeague game over Garbo’s old Malaga team.
Here’s the story; there’s the video.
(No, he didn’t pull up and take a three-pointer, the kid’s learning).
Just in case you were wondering, it would appear from reading various missives from around the NBA that every general manager talked to every agent about every player.
Yeah, it’s that silly time of year when we’re getting reports that this team has “targeted” that guy, or that guy “wants” to go to this team and here’s a word to the wise:
If every GM didn’t make a call to the representatives of every significant player on the market, they aren’t doing their jobs and should probably wonder about alternative employment.
No, I don’t know for sure who Bryan Colangelo talked to yesterday but I can assure you he would have touched base with dozens of agents ranging from the reps of Marc Gasol to the reps of Tyson Chandler to the reps of every player at the lower end of the free agent spectrum.
And, no, I have no idea if those conversations will ultimately bear any fruit – I certainly don’t expect so in the first two instances – but when there’s something of actual substance to report, you’ll be among the first to know.
He’s talking. A lot. As is everyone. Believe what you want at your own peril the next few days and get excited about it as you wish.
Speaking of mail, we could use some here, thank you very much.
So, how slow a TV night was it?
Saw about three-quarters of the Leaves game (yes, on purpose; no, I don’t see any hives on my arms or legs) and that probably represents more intense pucks-watching as I’ve done all season.
Of course, a lot of it had to do with the build-up to the game, one of those “measuring-stick” outings against the Boston Kryptonites and, no, the hometown side didn’t let me down.
But even with my scant knowledge of the game – goaltending’s good, right? – you could tell this version of the pucks aren’t too bad. Kind of fast, look like they know what they’re doing and those poor, downtrodden eight-year-olds who have never known the glory of a first-round playoff series (how incomplete must their lives be?) may finally be whole this spring.
And who knows …