Organized Sports is a recurring sports column named for a seminal DC avant-hardcore song by the equally stupid and brilliant (to me, “equally stupid and brilliant” pretty much just means “brilliant”) band Void. Take from that what you will.
The matchups for the conference finals are set. Let’s take a look back at the second round and a look forward at the four teams playing for the NBA Finals.
A thing the Blues will not win.
Organized Sports is a recurring sports column named for a seminal DC avant-hardcore song by the equally stupid and brilliant (to me, “equally stupid and brilliant” pretty much just means “brilliant”) band Void. Take from that what you will.
Like every playoff year, there were some surprises, some upsets, and some predictable results in the first round. Since they’re not giving us much turnaround time to pontificate about early round results, let’s get on to the recaps and picks, after the jump.
Derrick Rose, not helping his team win in the first round.
Organized Sports is a recurring sports column named for a seminal DC avant-hardcore song by the equally stupid and brilliant (to me, “equally stupid and brilliant” pretty much just means “brilliant”) band Void. Take from that what you will.
The first round of the NBA Playoffs is over and the second beginning right away. There weren’t many surprises in the first round as far as the results, but there was at least one injury that should change the makeup of the playoffs the rest of the way.
On to the recaps and picks after the jump, which is also a thing people do a lot when playing basketball.
This is how I’m livin’, dog.
Organized Sports is a recurring sports column named for a seminal DC avant-hardcore song by the equally stupid and brilliant (to me, “equally stupid and brilliant” pretty much just means “brilliant”) band Void. Take from that what you will.
The lockout-shortened hockey season resulted in a race for the Stanley Cup Playoffs that extended even beyond the planned final day of the regular season, as the marathon bombing and its aftermath in Boston pushed a game to the Sunday after the season was supposed to end, with the result giving us the seeding we have for the first round matchups in the East.
The lockout-shortened hockey season also resulted in this die-hard hockey fan watching the least hockey he has since getting back into the sport after a loss of interest following the previous lockout, which wiped out an entire season. As a St. Louis Blues fan, I didn’t watch an entire hockey game that didn’t involve my home team, and because of the scheduling this year, that means my Eastern Conference predictions (Western teams only played Western opponents, same with the East, due to the lesser number of games) will be even less informed than usual. Perhaps that means I’ll actually get them right for once.
Hockey playoff pixies after the jump.
Liprawn Chaymes is a dear, dear friend of mine.
Organized Sports is a recurring sports column named for a seminal DC avant-hardcore song by the equally stupid and brilliant (to me, “equally stupid and brilliant” pretty much just means “brilliant”) band Void. Take from that what you will.
Hey there! After yet another long hiatus, in which we’ve ignored much of what has gone on in the sporting world since the end of the NFL season, including the return of hockey, the Miami Heat’s 27-game winning streak, and the entire NCAA tournament, along with other stories both tragic and idiotic, Organized Sports is returning to do what it’s best known for: incorrectly predicting things.
Up now: the NBA playoffs. It’s been a long season, but in the dead times there were stories to keep interest in the league afloat: the bumbling of the Lakers in the early going, the Heat’s streak in the season’s dragging middle-third, and lots and lots of lob dunks from the Clippers throughout. No use trying to run through all of it, so let’s get right to it. The picks, after the jump.
Yes, he really said “Thank You, Super Bowl!”
Organized Sports is a recurring sports column named for a seminal DC avant-hardcore song by the equally stupid and brilliant (to me, “equally stupid and brilliant” pretty much just means “brilliant”) band Void. Take from that what you will.
It all comes down to this. If it were the college national title game, this one would be for all the Tostitos, but since the Super Bowl is the premier spot for debuting high-budget ads for new cars and blockbuster films, this one’s for all the Fiat Abarths and Superman Reboots.
I really love the Super Bowl, particularly have over the past fifteen years or so, when the games moved from either the Cowboys or the 49ers blowing out some hopeless AFC team to a series of mostly close games decided in the final quarter if not the final minutes. Though the Rams won the Super Bowl in 2000 on the final play of the game with a defensive stop, and they are my team, that is not my favorite Super Bowl—that would have to be the perfect Patriots getting upset by the very imperfect Giants. But there have been many great games. Hopefully this is another.
On to the picks.
Today’s Post-Dispatch.
Yesterday, the news spread quickly in St. Louis that Stan Musial had passed away. The greatest Cardinal to ever wear the birds on the bat, Musial meant more to this city than any athlete has ever meant to any city, with the only exception I can possibly think of being Magic Johnson—someone who played his entire career with one team, defined success, and adopted that team’s town as his own, helping to make it a better place both during his athletic career and afterwards.
There will be many tributes to Stan the Man, and they will likely be more eloquent than this one. They’ll talk about his exploits on the field, exploits I never saw because they occurred well before my birth. They’ll talk about how much he was as good a man off the field as on, how much he contributed to the Cardinals organization, mentoring young players, inspiring them, how much he did for the city of St. Louis, the city that became his home.
How much he did for this city, and the baseball fans in it, can likely never be measured in full. Many St. Louisans have their own Stan the Man stories, and those little stories hopefully can help to illustrate how cool a guy he really was. It’s not big or important, but here’s mine.
***
I’m so sad my fake girlfriend is dead.
Organized Sports is a recurring sports column named for a seminal DC avant-hardcore song by the equally stupid and brilliant (to me, “equally stupid and brilliant” pretty much just means “brilliant”) band Void. Take from that what you will.
It’s not NFL-related, but I’d be remiss if I did not mention the biggest football-related story of the week, that being Deadspin’s investigation into the heartwarming backstory of Notre Dame linebacker Manti Te’o, which found out that the tale of his deceased girlfriend, whose death from leukemia inspired him to the Heisman running this season, was entirely a hoax.
Now, Manti Te’o is a 22-year-old young man, in college still, and when I was around that age, I told quite a few lies about girls, to girls, and more. After the jump, I’ll include a couple of those stories along with my picks, because we’ve talked enough about these teams already, haven’t we? I mean, Ray Lewis retirement potential Harbaugh bowl battle of the brothers Falcons monkey on back Tony Gonzalez Greatriots. That covers it, right? All right then, onwards and upwards.
Ian Curtis Martin
Organized Sports is a recurring sports column named for a seminal DC avant-hardcore song by the equally stupid and brilliant (to me, “equally stupid and brilliant” pretty much just means “brilliant”) band Void. Take from that what you will.
Last weekend didn’t offer many Unknown Pleasures, as three of the four games were ugly to watch, with only the final contest, the Redskins-Seahawks Sunday late game matchup, worth watching into the fourth quarter. I thought many of the games would be Closer, but they were not, and I only got a quarter of my picks correct.
As the New Dawn Fades on Saturday, hopefully I’ll throw off my incorrect gambling Disorder and the teams I choose will get into the Interzone more often. Or, rather, the end zone, I suppose.
This gimmick’s getting old, and it will get older after the jump.
I don’t know who these people are on this picture.
The playoffs are finally here, which means no more Raiders-Chargers late games, no more Eagles or Jets in primetime spots because networks thought they were going to be good, and no more me having to painfully sit through St. Louis Rams games out of hometown loyalty and watch Sam Bradford get crushed by average defensive linemen because he plays behind an offensive line made out of castoffs from the movie Little Giants.
No, it’s time for real, honest-to-goodness meaningful football. They may not be playing for all the Tostitos, but we should see some good games this weekend, and after the jump, you’ll see just how I think it’s going to go down.
