Thursday, May 07, 2009
The boy has learned the fine art of deception from his older sister, the diva, who comes by it naturally as she is essentially a small female version of me.
When my oldest daughter was the boy's age (3 1/2) she had her first bike but the boy cannot be trusted and so we're in a holding pattern here. When I say he cannot be trusted I don't mean with the car or being left at home over the weekend alone with my beer and my porn or with your daughter although I am sure that day will come soon enough (say when he is five?).
I mean he can't be trusted not to stay on the sidewalk. He's a smart little guy and he is very good ninety nine percent of the time but yesterday while in a store on Queen Street he dropped a superball which bounced out the door and into the street and he went right out after it, my wife grabbing him just as he was about to step into traffic.
He's a bullheaded little bugger, which is good, imo, although it causes me a million problems and we butt heads constantly. He stands up for himself and like his old man he marches to his own drummer and its probably going to work out for him.
But he makes me mental. I'll send him up to get changed for bed (it takes his sister a minute and it takes him a minute when he cares to care) and forty minutes later he'll toddle down the stairs in his housecoat. But first he'll play for ten minutes and then if I yell at him he'll wander into the bathroom and take a shit for half an hour (seriously) and if I get on his case he folds himself up on the floor and ignores me.
Jesus Murphy get dressed for bed!
I'm a backhoe. I have to dig a hole. Backhoes don't wear pajamas.
The other day he gets on his trike and pedals away down the sidewalk. After a minute I call for him to stop. He keeps going. Again I call. He ignores me. Now he is getting near the end of the street and I chase after him.
Did you hear me calling you?
You did! Why didn't you stop?
Oh. I didn't hear you calling me.
What?! You just said that you did.
Me (in head) - Goddamnit I'm in trouble, he knows all my tricks, he's smarter then me and he has youth on his side.
Him (in head) - Goddamnit he's in trouble, I know all of his tricks, I'm smarter then him and I have youth on my side.
Maybe so but for now he's not getting his two wheeler.
Tom Benjamin talks about the whole Coyotes fiasco (and of course as usual James has terrific coverage) and while he thinks that at the end of the day there will still be a team in Arizona he, like me, is enjoying watching Bettman squirm.
I don't know how it will play out myself but I am beginning to think that its coming on end days for Mr. Bettman and really its not a moment too soon. Bettman's tenure has been disastrous and while the NHL has always been the most poorly run of the major leagues under Bettman it has reached new lows. Ten years ago the NHL had a major presence on ESPN - I lived in Florida and could usually catch a game or two a night if I so chose - now they are relegated to a station that barely anyone watches. There are too many teams and too many teams in markets where hockey is an afterthought. Even the victories Bettman can claim are reversals of declines under his watch - the opening up of the game after years of clutching and grabbing destroyed its beauty - or bittersweet at best - the levelling of the playing field with the salary cap at the cost of two work stoppages.
Of course the thing that makes me crazy about Bettman most of all is his insistence on always spinning things as a complete positive. Nothing wrong with the game. Nothing wrong with attendance. Versus is a better opportunity then ESPN. Franchises in the southern states are strong. Phoenix is in excellent shape. Etc etc etc. He is like the parent of one of those failed contestants on those Idol shows, you know the ones who figure they're the next Gord Downie (hooray for Gord Downie!) but actually sound like a raccoon trapped by the big fellow. Its happened and its not a pleasant aural experience.
Anyways they sound terrible and the parent stands by them and says they are amazing and you just know that one day they're going to wake up and realize that mom and dad have been feeding them a load of shit in the name of self esteem since the day they were born and the reality is that they are not just unlucky in school, sports and love. They are actually dumb spazzes who have a completely warped sense of self and are totally and completely unloveable. And then the fur flies. Or maybe not. But anyways the parents are liars and its unforgiveable.
While Bettman spins the Gooseberry man as the villain he conveniently forgets that Balsillie played by the rules once, in Pittsburgh, and it was Petit Gary who introduced caveats at the eleventh hour. Why would Balsillie play fair now when the one time he did he was undercut at the last minute?
And so once again the NHL looks stupid, as they invariably do, and one wonders at what point the owners look at this situation and wonder why they are propping up losing propositions everywhere they look. The NHL has been trying to hit the home run in the US for over forty years now and its not happening. Time to cut their losses.
And Little Gary with them.
Posted by Black Dog at 5:15 PM