#I know nothing about sports so a team sucking is always my default in my writing

[justsmilingatnothing]

my hellcheer heart loves the idea of the basketball team sucking real bad so Chrissy can continue being silently unimpressed with everything about Jason but my harringrove heart actually has no problems with this because it adds just the right amount of comedy to my favorite homoerotic basketball scene

[madelainesvixens]

Call it what you want: Chapter two | I’d like to thanks Mr. Dickson

Monday, September 28th

10:01

''Everyone stand up.''

Confusion flashed on all students' faces on Monday morning at their science teacher's request but obeyed, going to stand at the front of the classroom in messy queue.

''Back in September, each of you strategically picked your seats according to where your friends sat but, this morning, I decided to stir the pot and get you out of your comfort zone by pairing you with new lab partners from other cliques. While it's fun to sit with your best friends, that's not how life works. In the real world, you'll be forced to work with people who are very different from you and you won't have a say in it.''

Groans of depreciation along with whispers of complanings filled the classroom. Mr. Dickson tapped his wooden ruler on the desk to get everyone's attention - and silence - and started assigning the new seats with a threat of detention if he heard another complain.

''Miss Samuels, you'll be paired with Miss Blossom.''

Sierra wrinkled her nose and walked to the seat Mr. Dickson had pointed and sat down. Beside her, Penelope grinned excitedly, flashing her braces. Sierra rolled her eyes, wishing Tom was in her Science class. Maybe if he were, she wouldn't have been stuck with nerdy Penelope.

''Next is Mr. Lodge and Miss Gomez.'' Hermione quietly took a seat next to Hiram without protesting and Mr. Dickson continued his placements. ''Mr. Andrews, you'll be paired with Miss Maiden.''

FP snickered, elbowing Fred who narrowed his eyes at him. Mary Maiden was one of those annoying stickler.  Always following defined procedures, the redhead never did anything that might contradict any laws and was very strict about following the rules in any situations whether it's for an assignment or a simple school policy. She really was no fun.

''Enough laughing, Mr. Jones. Go sit with Miss Smith.''  

The teenager was shook for a second. What? Miss Smith as in Alice Smith? This was FP's lucky day.

A smirk on his lips, FP crossed the distance to his new seat and sat on the seat next to the blonde.

''We've met before, haven't we?'' Alice asked, raising an eyebrow.

FP nodded. ''Detention.''

''Right. You're the one who punched his teammate before Friday's game, uh?''

The raven haired Bulldog raised an eyebrow, surprised she was interested in gossips. ''You heard about that? I thought it was hush hush.''

Alice scoffed. ''Nothing stays hush hush at Riverdale High. Not with girls like Hermione and Sierra. They have big fucking mouths.''

Touché.

Mr. Dickson finished assigning places and then, he dove into astronomy for the rest of the hour which wasn't FP's forte. He knew about Mars, Jupiter and all its siblings but the rest was lost in the black hole inside his brain.

The bell rang and everyone gathered their things to leave.

''What time shall I show up to your house?'' Alice asked, lingering at their lab table.

FP furrowed his eyebrows, confused. ''My house? What for?''

''The assignment,'' she reminded him.

''Oh! Sorry, I- Would six be fine? I have football practice after school.''

Alice searched inside her backpack and opened her notebook, the same one she had during detention, and handed it to FP with a black marker pen. ''Write your address down, Jones.''

''All done,'' FP said, returning the notebook to its owner. ''And, for your information, everyone calls me FP,'' he added.

''I'll be there at eight. See ya tonight, Jones.''

.

3:52

After the last bell, FP dropped his books in his locker, grabbed his sports bag and made his way to the locker room to change for football practice. Surprisingly, when he arrived, only Fred and two other guys were there.

''Hey, man,'' FP said, joining Fred.

''Hey,'' Fred replied before bending down to grab his shoulder-pads, passing them over his head.

FP opened his sports bag and started pulling out his clothes. ''How's working with Mary going,'' he asked with a snicker as searched for his undershirt in his messy bag.  

Fred groaned. ''She's annoyingly strict. I can't even drift off for a second, she'll snap her fingers and bring me back to orders.''

''She'll be a challenge to get in bed.''

Although the saying said 'quiet in the streets, freak in the sheets', FP doubted it applied to the redhead. A girl like Mary Maiden had probably vowed chastity until wedding, therefore was still a virgin. She also probably had never seen nor touched a dick in her life.

Fred shoved FP. ''Ew, I'm not having sex with Mary.''

''What are you guys talking about?'' Marty asked as he dropped his stuff next to FP, looking expectantly between the two boys.

''Fred's new crush.''

''What?! No! She's not-''

Marty raised an eyebrow, interested in the hot subject. ''Who is it? I thought you were set on Hermione.''

FP smirked and said, ''Mary Maiden.''

Fred narrowed his eyes and Marty bursted out laughing. ''Why did you switch an eight for a three? What the fuck Andrews? Hermione might come from a catholic school but she's not as religious as she made herself look like. I saw her with Lodge last week and he had a hand up her skirt. I bet she's a fine piece of work underneath that plaid skirt and button ups.''

''I'm not into Mary. That's bullshit!'' Fred defended but everyone ignored him and continued teasing and laughing.

''He could've done worse,'' a Hal pointed out, joining the conversation while avoiding FP's eyes, not feeling like getting punched twice by his captain. The shiner on his face was painful enough, he didn't need a second.

''Yeah, there's Penelope,'' Marty added, still laughing.

Fred rolled his eyes. ''Shut up, Mantle.''

.

20:10

It was rare FP had anyone over at his house. His father's drinking problem made the teenager hesitant to invite people over. Even Fred never stepped inside the Jones household and he was FP's best friend. In the past,Fred had tried to come in so many times but every time FP found an excuse like his dad had the stomach flu or that he had a night shift at the factory and was sleeping - which was half a lie. His dad was indeed sleeping but not for the same reason.

But, when Alice invited herself over after Science class, FP couldn't say no. That's a lie. He could have but, did he want to?

Just in luck, Forsythe had a night shift at the factory so he wouldn't be home tonight when Alice will pass. Thank god.

Alice showed up on the Jones's doorstep at eight past ten. FP answered the door and almost choked on his own saliva when he saw Alice. She had ditched her flanel and tied it around her waist, giving FP a full view of her bustier and, by default, a nice glimpse of her boobs. FP swore she did it on purpose because the look she gave him as she brushed past him to get inside wasn't nothing.

Or, at least that's what he told himself.

He led her to his bedroom and they got all of their stuff out, ready to work of their Science assignment. They sat on FP's bed, Alice on the end of the mattress and FP at the head, textbooks opened in front of them as the two scanned they pages to find informations.

''How good at science are you, Jones?'' Alice asked, raising an eyebrow.

FP snorted. ''Astronomy? Not so much.''

He had a 'D' in his last test and had to climb the slope and get at least a 'B' on this assignment if he wanted to stay on the football team. FP had planned to work hard with Fred on this assignment but things took a different turnure this morning when Mr. Dickson decided to change binomes. Now, if FP fails Science, he's gonna have to blame it on Mr. Dickson because he paired him with Alice.

''Me neither.''

''I'm good at anatomy though. I can recite all the arteries.''

Alice raised an eyebrow, mildly interested. ''Can you really?''

FP chuckled, shaking his head. ''Not really.'' He scooted closer to the middle of the bed, pushing his textbook on the side a bit. ''I know the carotide, though. And, the femoral,''  FP said with a playful smile, knowing very well those were both erogenous zones. He's not as stupid as people made him out to be.

''Right, Einstein. Everybody can recite words. It doesn't mean anything. Do you even know where the carotid and femoral arteries are?'' Alice raised her eyes from her textbook, her blue eyes looking into his and biting her lip.

As a response, FP smirked and that's where they realized their assignment was never going to get done. Sorry not sorry, Mr. Dickson.

They didn't know who started it but Alice had joined FP at the head of the bed and was now straddling him, mouth on his as his hands moved up and down her sides, feeling the warmth of her skin and the delicate fabric of her lace bustier underneath his fingertips. Alice's hands were in FP's hair, tugging at the dark locks while deepening the kiss. A moan left his lips and the blonde smirked.

FP broke the kiss, an amused smirk on his lips. ''Well, well. Looks like we're going to fail brightly.''

''I say we're excelling at anatomy. Don't you, FP?''

FP's smirk widen, hands wandering down to the blonde biker's butt over the denim of her jeans, making her gasp in surprise. She leaned down to kiss him, hands snaking underneath his white tee shirt, feeling the defined muscles. FP's lips moved to her jaw and to her neck, making her moan, nails scratching at FP's back, leaving red marks behind.

Seconds later, FP's tee shirt was pulled off and thrown on the floor right before dipping in and kissing between Alice's breasts, sucking at the skin and she put her hand to the back of his head, keeping him there. Yes.

After that, more clothes started to come off and more and more skin was revealed until they were fully naked, science textbooks long forgotten. This was much better than working on their assignment anyway.

NEXT CHAPTER (X)

[eldritchsurveys]

251.

Do make sure you dot your I`s when you write? >> I usually write in block lettering, so no lowercase I’s. I don’t really bother dotting them when I write in cursive.

Do you know anyone with a dual citizenship? >> No.

What sports teams do you root for, if any? (Extra points for Boston fans.) >> I kind of root for the New Orleans Saints by default, but otherwise I really don’t give a damn.

Do you dunk your cookies in milk? Ever have the cookie break so you have a giant chunk in your glass? D: >> I don’t eat cookies with milk.

What is today but yesterday's tomorrow? >> Hmm.

What is one thing you wish you were better at? >> Being a person, in general.

What is something you are confident about? >> My resourcefulness.

Is it hard for you to speak positively of yourself? >> Sometimes.

Use this space to give yourself a compliment: >> Nah.

What did you wear today? >> Black thermal and Guinness lounge pants. Can’t wait until the temperature goes back up...

Do you have the hots for a celebrity? If so, who? >> I fancy a few. Idris Elba, Javier Bardem, Matthew McConaughey, Aisha Hinds, Gillian Anderson... there’s five.

Have you ever been physically addicted to a substance? What? >> No.

How do you feel about needles? >> I have no feelings about them.

What is your favorite accent to listen to? >> *shrug*

What did you buy the last time you went shopping for clothing? >> I don’t remember.

What was the reason you last got dressed up? >> ---

Have you ever been the subject of cruel rumors? What were they? >> I mean, maybe in school, but I don’t remember.

Tell me about someone who makes you laugh. >> Dylan Moran is really funny and one day I’ll rewatch Black Books.

Do you prefer loose or form-fitting clothing? What about on your prefered gender?  >> I prefer some clothing to be loose and some to be snug. I don’t have a preference regarding what other people wear.

What do you do when you are really, really mad? >> Nothing healthy, probably.

Would you rather go naked than wear fur? >> No.

Pick one: Exsanguinate or Eviscerate ? >> To whom? Myself? Neither, thanks. 

Do medical terms make you uncomfortable? >> No.

What is something that always makes you uncomfortable? >> I can’t think of anything off the top of my head.

What does your umbrella look like? >> I usually use a big black and red one.

Have any unpleasant public transit stories to tell? >> I mean, I used to live in NYC, I have forgotten more unpleasant pub-trans experiences than most people have had at all.

Are you good at teaching someone something new? >> I don’t know, I haven’t done it enough to know.

Do you put a line through your 7`s? What about your Z`s? >> No and no.

Have you ever gotten a 'paper cut' from a cardboard box? (I have, it sucks!) >> Yeah. 

What is one thing that someone could do to you that is unforgiveable? >> Whatever it is, it hasn’t happened to me yet, so I don’t know.

Are you able to forgive and forget? >> Something of that nature. Usually the incident or whatever just loses its relevance to my life after a while.

Do you like cold pizza? >> No.

What is your favorite fruit? >> I don’t have one.

What about your favorite fruit juice, if it differs from solid fruit?  >> Orange is pretty good.

Do you like broccoli and cheese? :3 >> No, I like broccoli without cheese.

What about potatoes and cheese? >> No, I like potatoes without cheese. Unless it’s a sprinkling of parmesan on herb-roasted potatoes, that’s pretty damn good.

..Everything tastes better with cheese. ...Or bacon. Fact or fiction? >> The obsession with putting cheese or bacon or both on damn-near everything annoys the hell out of me.

Have you had the banana creme oreos? <3 They're godly. >> Doesn’t sound like something I’d ever want to eat.

^ What about the mint ones? Yum. >> I like mint cookies, but I’ll pass on mint Oreos.

Is life REALLY like a box of chocolates? >> It’s not the strangest metaphor, I suppose.

Quick! Look behind you! What do you see? >> A wall.

What is one physical trait you are thankful to NOT possess? >> *shrug*

Go ahead, tell me a secret: >> ---

Have you written a letter by hand, lately? To whom? >> Nope.

Toaster or toaster oven? >> We don’t have a toaster oven, so I don’t have an opinion on them.

Roasted, fried or grilled? >> Depends on the food item...

Do you set high expectations for yourself? >> Yeah.

Are you afraid of failure? >> Not necessarily, I just get discouraged easily.

What are you most known for? >> I don’t know.

Do you have any reputations? What are they? >> I don’t know.

Do you wear band shirts? What band was on the last one you wore? >> I do. I think the last one I wore was Trans-Siberian Orchestra.

Do you own any hats? Describe them. >> I have a Hozier beanie but I hate the way it fits on my head so I don’t wear it.

What about masks, you got any? Describe those. >> I have a feathered one from Halloween.

What was the last thing to leave you speechless? >> I don’t know.

Do your parents like your friends? If they don't, why not? >> ---

Have you been called a bad influence? >> If so, I don’t remember.

How do you feel about the Chinese practice of foot-binding? >> I don’t have any feelings about it, it’s nothing to do with me.

What about Chinese food? Love it or hate it? >> I like some of it.

Ever feel like you know someone but can't figure out how? >> I mean, maybe? Not any time I can recall, though.

Describe your favorite pair of socks. >> I don’t have a favourite.

Have you experienced any life changing news, events, etc, lately? >> Not particularly.

Do you ever spell your name wrong? >> No.

Do you like when people make you signs? I do. [; >> I’m not sure what this is referencing, unless it’s that thing that people used to do on MySpace and VF like 10 years ago where you’d write something like “I <3 [friend’s username]” or whatever on a piece of paper and take a picture of yourself with it. But like I said, that’s outdated now.

What do you daydream about most often? >> I don’t know.

Have any self-done piercings? >> I used to. 

Ever pierced someone else? >> No.

Do you get distracted easily? >> Something like that.

Is talking to strangers enjoyable for you, or stressful? >> It depends on the day, man. Every situation is different.

How do you feel about getting new neighbors? >> I think we’re the most recent tenants here (and this is our third year). Not a very high turnover rate.

Are you territorial? >> A bit.

How many ceiling fans are in your home? >> Zero.

How do you feel about shameless self promoting? >> I don’t really care, it doesn’t affect me one way or the other.

What are your opinions on SPAM? The canned meat, not unsolicited mail. >> I don’t even remember the last time I had it.

Does anyone ever wonder if you're drunk based on your bahavior? >> Not to my knowledge.

When reading words. like. this. do. you always pause after the periods? >> Not that I’ve noticed, unless the periods are being used in an exaggerated way to show emphasis, similar to what you just did.

What about screaming when reading something IN ALL CAPS? >> That I do, which is why I don’t like when people type in all caps a lot.

Are you currently looking forward to something? >> Nothing in particular.

[ohmytheon]

title: On the Rainbow Road

pairing: Bakugou/Uraraka

summary: Uraraka is trying to get over her motion sickness while playing video games; Bakugou just wants to come in first like he does at everything else.

notes:  Thank you to thesvenmachine on the Kacchako Discord for sending me this idea and coming up with a few pointers! I chose Mario Kart because I've been playing it with my little cousin almost every day and it's instilling Baku Rage in me. I'm so tired of getting beat by an eight year-old.

Game night started out simple enough.

It was Kaminari’s fault, which was basically the default for every ridiculous thing that happened in the dorms. Bakugou was almost certain of it. Even if it seemed like someone else started something, it could always be traced back to Kaminari. The sparky, little shit had a way of integrating his dumb face into everything and he was better at starting things than most people realized.

This time, it was due to an argument between him and Jirou about who was better at a certain video game. No one knew what the game was until Kaminari dragged his entire gaming console out of his dorm and plugged it into the television in the common room area. It was so he and Jirou could play together and determine who the true champion was, seeing as how there had been a crack down on boys and girls going to each other’s dorms.

(This was the one time Kaminari was not to blame, as Bakugou was positive that Kaminari was trying to use the game in order to win Jirou over. He had a sneaking suspicion that it was just due to Mineta being a stupid shit. The only other people he could think of was Deku and Uraraka since Deku was always mooning over her, but the idea of that happening made Bakugou want to blow something up. It was gross.)

What started out as Kaminari and Jirou playing what turned out to be some version of Mario Kart with a few people watching ended up turning into an all out tournament between the entire class, but it wasn’t just some fun thing that everybody participated in every Thursday night. No, it was much more than that.

It was brutal. It was war .

Kirishima brought out his controllers so that more people could play at a time, transforming the two person game into a four person battle royale. People were knocked out of the running with blue and red shells left and right. Curses were thrown towards fellow classmates, their families, and future children. Food was thrown. People stopped speaking to each other for at least ten minutes sometimes. Iida had actually rage quit after Ashido had repeatedly wrecked him and caused him to get last place multiple times.

Though he didn’t play nearly as often as some of the others, Bakugou always won every time he did. He’d snag a controller after someone was kicked out and demolish the competition. The first time he’d wiped everyone at the game, they’d all been shocked. Bakugou knew that he didn’t look like the kind of kid that spent time locked in his room playing video games, but it really did help with his hand-eye coordination. Besides that, he liked the brief adrenaline boost that racing games gave him and he liked to win.

It took an almost embarrassing amount of time to notice that one person never participated in the games. Sitting on the sidelines like a cheerleader was Uraraka. She’d perch on the arm of the couch next to Asui or Deku or on the floor next to Kaminari or Ashido, but she never took the controllers. They were offered to her, of course, but she would always pass, claiming that she’d maybe join the next game or someone else really wanted to play. It was unusual for Uraraka, who he knew threw herself into everything.

She liked to win too. She might not have been as good as him at things, but she wasn’t the type of person that passed up on things. It was suspicious behavior that only he seemed to mark or notice. Not that he cared about it, of course. It was just...curious.

After a particularly vicious Mario Kart tournament that ended with Kirishima as the winner and Sero throwing his controller at him (so close to first), everyone meandered off to bed so that they wouldn’t completely regret school the next morning. Bakugou had been about to crash when he decided that he wanted a glass of water. On his way to the kitchen though, he heard the telltale noises of the video game that they’d been playing all night. At first, he’d thought it might be in his head since they’d been going at it hard for a few hours, but no, it was on.

Someone was still playing.

He had to pass the common room area in order to get to the kitchen, so curiosity got the better of him and he looked over in the direction of the television. There, sitting on the couch by herself, the bright glow of the tv causing her to look like nothing more than a dark shadow, was unmistakably Uraraka. He could pick her profile out a hundred meters away. Not that it meant anything. She just had a specific body frame.

Even though he’d come out here to get a glass of water, Bakugou stopped to watch her. So she wouldn’t play with everyone else but she would play on her own? Did she think she was too good for everyone? Maybe she was really embarrassed by how bad she was. Gods knew Aoyama shouldn’t play Mario Kart in public. He was fucking awful.

However, after watching her play a few rounds, Bakugou noticed something peculiar. She took breaks. Not odd in itself, but she took them often. After playing a whole round, she paused the game and then held her head. It was the universal sign of a headache or just not feeling well. Still, she took a deep breath and started again, this time lasting a little longer. It reminded him…

It reminded him of when she used her quirk on herself for too long. From what he remembered, if she used her quirk on herself or too much, it made her extremely nauseous. He’d learned that knowing his classmates’ quirks, along with their strengths and weaknesses, came in handy during class lessons so that he could get a better grade. He could admit to having been curious about hers since they’d fought in their first sports festival. The girl had created a meteor shower over him and then passed the fuck out. It kind of left an impression.

Apparently one of her other weaknesses was Mario Kart.

“What the hell are you doing, Round Face?” Bakugou demanded.

Uraraka jumped so badly on the couch that she never went down, having activated her quirk on herself and floating to the ceiling. “Oh my god, Bakugou! You scared me half the death!” She still had a hold of the controller, which was plugged in to charge after a night of use, so she carefully pulled herself back down and deactivated her quirk to plop back down on the couch.

Bakugou made his way over there and jumped over the back of it to sit next to her, ignoring what she’d said since she had clearly ignored his question. “You’ll play by yourself but not with everyone else?” He folded his arms and leaned back against the couch. “Even I play with the others. I thought you were Little Miss Team Player?”

“N-no!” Uraraka blushed, the pink of her cheeks standing out despite the glow of the television washing her out. “I mean, yes, I am!” She gripped the controller tightly and looked down at it. “I’m not… I’m not good at video games.”

That made Bakugou snort. “Oh, so you just suck and you’re embarrassed.”

“It’s not that!” Uraraka insisted angrily.

“Oh really?” Bakugou countered. “Then what is it, weak ass?”

Uraraka’s face was screwed up in determination as she glared at him, inches away from his face, but then it faded into embarrassment and she looked away from him again. “I get...kind of sick when I play some video games.” He didn’t say anything in response to that, which prompted a girl like Uraraka into explaining herself further. She just had to get her point across so she didn’t look too bad. She really did think about what others thought of her too much. “It’s kind of like if I use my quirk too much! I start to feel dizzy or nauseous. Not all video games do it, but this one really gets the best of me. All those windy roads and the bright graphics and explosions…”

“So you just play it by yourself after everyone leaves as punishment?” Bakugou asked.

“As training!” Uraraka corrected, so sincerely that Bakugou couldn’t even laugh at her outright. “The more I practice, the longer I can play without getting sick. Then I’ll be able to play with everyone!”

She really was staying out here every Thursday after everyone went to bed playing this dumb game on her own so that she’d get better at handling her queasiness and be able to join the Mario Kart tournament. She was pushing herself to her limit over a video game. It was so like her that Bakugou didn’t even know what to say. It was so absurd and stupid that she was getting this worked up over a game.

Then again, he remembered all the times he’d rage quit and throw the controllers when he was first learning how to play and the computer beat him. He could only imagine having to go through that while feeling like tossing his cookies. It did not make for a pleasant experience.

Despite the looming threat of being puked on, Bakugou picked up the second controller. “Well, you’re not going to get better by competing only against a computer.”

“Oh, you don’t have to!” Uraraka exclaimed. “I don’t mind. I’m not that good yet.”

“I know I don’t have to,” Bakugou responded as he set up the next race. She raised her eyebrows. Before she could even say anything about that, he continued, “I’ve creamed everyone else in this game except for you, so I’ve gotta mark you off my list.”

Uraraka’s eyebrows dropped and she sighed as if she’d expected him to say something like that, but then she twisted her lips as a look of intense concentration came over her face and she nodded her head once. She was ready -- or as ready as she could be. He could feel her taking deep breaths next to him, preparing herself for the race. He chose a long course, which would push her more. He could tell she was uneasy about it, but she said nothing as the game loaded.

“Scared?” he asked her, glancing at her out of the corner of his eyes.

Uraraka smirked at him. “You wish.”

It should not have done anything for him, but it did and he turned his attention back to the screen. Nope, he was not going to get distracted. He was going to demolish her.

The first game went clearly in his favor. She came in fifth while he was in first by a longshot. However, she didn’t stop to get sick or anything and she even looked like she was enjoying herself. The second game he could tell that she was starting to struggle. She’d bit her lip, squirm in her seat, and take deep breaths. But when he asked her if she was done, in a not-so-kind tone, she’d shoved him with her arm and told him to start the next race.

They were in the middle of the third game, on the second loop out of three, when Uraraka’s character hit one of the clear mystery boxes. She had a bad habit of going for them and somehow either missing them or a computer taking it right in front of her. “Oh, a red shell! What if I just--?”

“I swear to god, Uraraka, if you hit me--”

Uraraka pressed the button anyways. Somehow, the red shell avoided two computer characters and hit his, sending Yoshi spiraling in the air and flopping down on the ground. It cost him first place and he swore. “Damnit, that cost me half my coins!” He pressed hard on the accelerator button, as if it would help him go faster. Next to him, all Uraraka did was giggle. Her character didn’t catch up with his but still. It pissed him off. Why couldn’t she have hit any of the other racers?

Through either sheer determination or dumb luck, Uraraka managed to work herself up to second place with Bakugou in her sight. They were on the third lap though and nearing the finish line. There was no way she could catch up with him now, even if she hit all the speed boosters. He snagged a mystery item box, getting a banana, which he threw back at her. She dodged it just barely and caught an item box by accident.

When it finally chose what it would give her, Bakugou shot her a glare. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

“What?” Uraraka asked innocently. “What does a blue shell do?”

“You better not--”

She most definitely did, pressing the button to release the blue shell. It hit his character, sending him flying, and he watched in horror as Uraraka’s character sped past him right over the finish line. The shell had struck his character at just the right moment, keeping him from winning and forcing him into a measly place. As soon as her victory was announced, Uraraka dropped her controller and jumped up on the couch, cheering for herself obnoxiously.

“Get the fuck down, you idiot!” Bakugou growled, grabbing the bottom of her tank top and jerking down on her hard. She went tumbling on the couch on her back and her feet hit him in the legs. Before he could shove her away though, she took one look at the television screen and then bolted into the kitchen. He could hear her gagging over the sink, but she didn’t puke. He heard the sink running and then she came back with a glass of water.

A little pale in the face, Uraraka sheepishly told him, “Sorry, I held off for as long as I could,” before sitting back down on the couch.

“Fucking gross,” Bakugou said.

“I think it’s because I immerse myself too much in the game,” Uraraka said as she sunk back into the couch. She watched the replay of their last game with heavy lids, clutching the glass of water against her chest. “But you were right. It was better playing against someone. I could distract myself.”

“You knew what that blue shell did,” Bakugou accused.

Uraraka smiled up at him, like some sort of angel. “Did I?” Maybe it was more like a devil.

Standing up, Bakugou pointed a finger at her. “You better be ready for next week. I’m going to kick your ass.”

“I look forward to it,” Uraraka replied and he knew that she meant it. The challenge was set and neither one of them would back down. The fact that it was implied that they wouldn’t be playing with everyone else but only with each other after everyone left didn’t need to be said. He rather liked this one-on-one thing. Not because it was with her or anything, but because no one was hovering around him being irritating. Well, as long as Uraraka didn’t start floating at least. That was for another time if she really wanted to try something difficult.

[tumblunni]

I really wish the character customization in pokemon go was better tho. it’s been so long and all they’ve even managed is upgrading from Literally Just Recolour The Same Single Default Outfit to Now There’s Maybe Five Outfits, But You Have To Pay For Them.

And the art style for the protags is just.. so ugly. they look like default unity assets for an entirely different genre of game! And i don’t even get it cos the actual team leaders and professor have way more design thought put into them even though they’re also realistic???

Like they have these weird proportions that are SOOOO ‘default realism mobile mmorpg protag’. Its pretty impossible to make anything that looks like yourself cos you have to be Barrel Chest Man or Weird Supermodel Pose Lady. Makes no sense cos this isn’t remotely a ‘sex sells’ kind of genre! the lady is reaaaally annoying cos of that stupid perpetual pose thing. like its hard to even get a good impression of what your outfit would look like while you’re walking cos you’ve gotta stand all Hip Wildly To The Side And Feet En Pointe. And there’s barely any options to like.. wear pants or shirts with sleeves. And even when you do pick those you’re limited to only super short shorts showing loads of skin or super form-hugging leggings that literally look like you just painted your ass. And the tops are even weirder cos stuff that looks baggy in its item icon is vaccuum sealed on the character model and always has to have Perfect Melon Suction. And these aren’t even outfits that are drawn sexified or anything?? Why are they following laws of sexy american comic supermodel superheroes THIS HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH ANYTHING! I ended up picking the generic Your Team here jacket just cos its the only thing with even the slightest padding to your chest/hips/arms/whatever. Like it doesnt look like a new texture drawn on the same model, there’s SOME DEGREE OF NEW OUTFIT SHAPE MODELLED. But it’s still far from a real baggy casual sort of look, and there’s nothing remotely similar for trousers. i just had to go with whichever colour options have the least detailed shading so i can’t see that weird vaccuum packed yoga pants effect on my avatar’s ass. Which is always raised higher than her goddamn hips somehow and pointing off to the left. WHO IS EVEN ABLE TO STAND LIKE THIS FOR MORE THAN TEN MINUTES? Catwalk model poses only get used for a short show, women don’t go around like that 24/7 when going to the grocery store! Seriously whyyy is the lady model so much more sexualized than the male one, the dude is still a generic Heroic Build but no form of pose AT ALL compared to her, and his outfits never stick to his skin like goddamn glue.

And man its bad for both sides too cos the dude has less clothes options for lots of stuff, but also the clothes he does have are like.. more modelled. Wow look there’s SLEEVES and COATS LONGER THAN HIS WAIST and DIFFERENT KINDS OF TROU! And no matter who you pick you can’t change anything about them aside from colours (very limited ones) and clothes (which are essentially just colours on the girl). All this time and i can’t even get a new hairstyle or different eye shape or like.. any expression on my face?? Or height or weight or age because seriously WHY is everyone a 20 something supermodel, this game isn’t even particularly ‘pokemon for adults’, its supposed to be ‘pokemon for everyone’ so wouldnt it make more sense to have a character that looks like a default that anyone can identify with? Or uhh.. has anything that reminds you of pokemon at all? And WHY ARE THE COLOURS SO LIMITED!! Most stuff either has only one colour or only the three team colours, so like.. fuck you if you like green i guess. There’s ONE SINGLE PINK CLOTHING ITEM IN THE WHOLE THING! For a game so obsessed with making the girl options unneccesarily limited in the name of ‘girly things’, you’d think they would have had more of that! It also sucks cos the default unity esque art style means that colours often.. don’t work. like all of the damn hairstyles look the same unless you pick blonde. They’re all SUPER DARK and its more like a tint on black hair instead of actual brown or red or blue. Like wow did u design that to fuck with me in particular? A friggin cocktease blue that isn’t blue? I DEMAND MY HAIR, DAMMIT! I can’t even do my NATURAL hair colour, geez!

And gahhh i’m so sad cos the legacy costume event things are the closest thing you get to actual different clothing models instead of body paint. But they’re still drawn all weird and stick to your skin way too much or have more skin showing or more of a ‘sexy’ redesign. Like wtf the rocket boots are now some sort of lady gaga style almost-at-your-ass things that contour to my precise thighs as if they were made of sellotape? And the shirt has boobsocks? And the hat is REALLY SMALL AND FLAT FOR SOME REASON? srsly why does that bug me so much, half of the hats are tiny and half of them are huge and Nothing in Between. its like they don’t know how the fuck to model a forehead under a hat, even though they pasted this damn hat over an actually modelled forehead. it looks like your whole head gets flatter! and damn i’m so mad the limited colour options mean i can’t create a good outfit to match the mimikyu hat or The One Singular Pink Hat Or Pink Anything In The Entire Game. Those two are actually big and fit your head right! And are super stylish cute! But nothing else matches unless i wanna switch to a skirt and an even more boobsocky tanktop. TANKTOPS DO NOT STICK TO BREASTS THEY ARE PRETTY MUCH DESIGNED TO BE BAGGY DAMMIT their whole point is to circulate a lot of air and thus be good for sports and stuff. Also most people tend to wear a bra under a tanktop, just sayin. I’m glad the sleeves aren’t modelled correctely, I couldn’t stand seeing sideboob in a goddamn pokemon game...

[bazypitchandsimonsnow]

Truth or Dare

Rating: T

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 3127

Summary: Simon (regrettably) decided to go to a party. Of course his prick roommate is there. Based on "First Kiss" prompt from anonymous.

Read on AO3

AN:  Aaaahhhh this took way longer than it should've. I've had such a bad case writer's block lately. And I rewrote this a thousand times because I'm an over thinking anxious nut bar. Hopefully all of you, especially the original fic requester, like it :D

Simon

I really shouldn’t be here. The music is awful and everyone's totally pissed. Penny said I should socialise more, integrate with the school population. But if this is how the school population acts out of class, like fuck I want to take part.

It’s odd for a year 13 to not have attended a single party in all their time at a school. But I’m not a usual student. I’m a scholarship orphan charity case, supposedly so gifted that I had to attend Watford School. I’m not sure what Headmaster Mage sees in me. I’m just pleased to have an education.

The ones who aren’t pleased are the snooty rich assholes who think I’m below them, and don't deserve to attend their fancy school. And one of those assholes is my roommate, who is here, of course.

I don’t know why I’m surprised. This is a party for the football team, and he plays. (He’s the best player.) He’s more shocked that I’m here. I’m leaning against a corner in the back of the room, trying to make myself as unnoticeable as possible. His eyes meet mine, and his emotionless expression slips a bit. He looks like a deer in the headlights. But it’s quickly replaced with a sneer. Of course. That’s his default expression for me.

I harumph and sip my beer. Penny saunters over to me with a smile.

“How’s it going Simon?”

I raise an eyebrow. “Isn’t it obvious, Pen?”

“That your being a total annoying stick in the mud? Yes. Why did you even come if you’re going to sulk back here?”

“Because you asked and I felt bad. Damn my big heart, I guess.”

“I only asked because you’ve been a miserable sod ever since Agatha broke up with you. So I thought ‘hey, there’s a party Trixie told me about. Maybe it’ll cheer Simon up.’ But you’re still being a miserable sod, so I guess mission unaccomplished.”

“Damn right.” I take another swig of beer. Penny snatches the bottle from me. “Hey!”

She takes a gulp and hands the bottle back. Her face contorts in disgust. “This is shite beer.”

“Duh. It’s a teen party, what else do you expect?”

“Whatever. Enjoy being miserable. I’m going to talk to someone more fun.” She saunters off.

“I thought I was your only friend,” I call out in a fake pathetic whine.

“You are. But no fun when you’re pathetic,” she says with a little sing song.

I roll my eyes and drink more shite beer. I scan over the room. It’s the dorm of one of the other players, a large one, reserved for the richest of Watford’s attendees. So half the senior class is in here. And it's bloody suffocating. All I want to do is run upstairs to my room, away from all this. Especially away from her.

I glimpse Agatha walking with Trixie and Keris, laughing and smiling. My heart hurts a bit. I’m glad she’s happy. It sucks she’s so happy without me.

Baz is chatting with his friends. He looks like he always does. Cool, calm, absolutely bloody perfect. His eyes keep darting over to me. He’s probably waiting for me for to make an ass out of myself so he can laugh about it. Or maybe he’s plotting something to make me mess up. He’d do that. The perfect tosser.

“Simon!” I turn to face a grinning Gareth. He and his roommate Rhys are in the room under mine, and for some reason he thinks that makes us friends.

“Hello Gareth,” I say.

“We’re playing truth or dare. You should come.”

“Oh, I don’t know, I-”

“C’mon!”

He grabs my arm and drags me forward. I sigh, deciding to not put up a fight. We go to the room next door, music duly echoing through the walls. The others there I recognise. Trixie, Keris, Rhys, and (unfortunately) Agatha. She smiles at me awkwardly then looks down. Fuck my life.

“Alright, have we got enough people?” Gareth asks.

Rhys nods. “Yeah, I think-”

“Hey can we join?” We all turn to see Niall at the door.

“Yeah of course! The more the merrier, mate,” Rhys says.

“Marvelous.”

Niall steps in, and Dev follows. Then, of fucking course, Baz walks in. Fuck I cannot ever escape him, can I? He sees me and inhales sharply through his nose. Looks like he isn’t happy to see me either.

“Snow,” he mutters.

“Dickhead,” I grunt.

He huffs and walks to join his minions.

“Let’s get started!” Gareth shouts.

We all sit in a circle on the floor. Gareth offers to go first, with Rhys asking the question.

“Alright Gar,” he says, cracking his knuckles dramatically, “truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“Hmm, what’s your most disgusting habit?”

Gareth chews on his lip for a second, and sighs. “I, uh, still pick my nose sometimes.”

“Ewwww!” We all say in unison. It is kind of gross.

“Gareth!” Trixie shouts. “That’s nasty.”

He crosses his arms and shrugs. “It’s only sometimes now! Started when I was a kid. It’s a hard habit to break, y’know.”

“Yeah yeah,” Rhys says, “just don’t flick boogers at me.”

“Oh now I want to. Just to spite you.”

Rhys sticks his tongue out and crosses his arms.

“Now it’s my turn,” Gareth says. “Um, Keris! Truth or dare?”

Keris tilts her head quizzically. “Hm, dare, I guess.”

Gareth looks shocked. I guess he was expecting truth. “I-uh...I dare you to...kiss Trixie?”

We all groan or giggle. Baz makes a sort of scoffing chuckle. He’s just as bloody unimpressed as I am. At least we agree on that.

“Oh c’mon Gar,” Keris says. “That’s a weak as hell dare.”

Gareth looks away, obviously embarrassed. “I-I don’t know. You caught me off guard.”

Keris shrugs. “Very well, then.” She turns to Trixie, grabs her face, and kisses her without abandon. Trixie smiles into the kiss. They get more heated. I look away embarrassed. It feels like a private moment I’m peeking in on. I glance to see Baz facing down as well. His dark cheeks are red. Damn, even cold-as-hell Baz is embarrassed. I’ve only seen him look like this once before, when I stepped out of our bathroom in only a towel, thinking he wasn’t home. He turned more red than a tomato and shouted at me to have some decency. I told him to stop being a stuck up prude.

Trixie and Keris break away finally. All us boys look very flustered. Keris, Trixie, and Agatha burst out laughing.

“Uh-oh, Trix, I think we’ve just gained starring roles in our friend’s fantasies,” Keris says.

“Oh dear me,” Trixie replies haughtily, “so scandalous, Ker.”

“Now, it’s my turn. Who shall I torture? Simon?”

Fuck. My head snaps up. Keris has a huge shit eating grin. “What?”

“Truth or dare, Snow?”

“Um, I, uh, dare!” Shit, I panicked.

Keris’ grin gets wider. “I dare you...to spend 7 minutes in heaven, with...” She looks over at Agatha. God, I’m going to be locked in a closet with my recent ex-girlfriend. This is the worst party ever. “Baz!”

“What?!” Baz and I shout in unison.

“You two heard me. Get into the closet!”

“B-But,” I sputter out.

“This is lunacy!” Baz shouts.

“Parties are times for lunacy, Basilton,” Trixie says. “Now get on with it!”

Neither Baz or I move, sporting equal looks of shock and disgust. That is, until Keris grabs my arm and hauls me up. I struggle, but this girl has a bloody death grip. Dev hauls Baz equally hard. We’re tossed into the wall closet. The door closes and clicks locked, leaving us in total darkness.

“Have fun boys!” Trixie says sweetly.

“Fuck,” I mutter.

I hear Baz sigh. “Well this is bloody brilliant. Where’s the light?” He fumbles around a bit, and with a click, turns on the overhead bulb. It’s not a lot of light, but it’s better than pitch black.

The closet is small as hell, so there isn’t a lot of room to not be close to Baz. But I try my best. I take one side and he takes the other. I groan and slide back against the wall. Baz mimics, taking great interest in the ceiling instead of me.

“Fucking hell this is the worst,” I mumble.

“No shit,” Baz sneers. “I’m already forced to spend far too much time with you as it is.”

“Oh, sorry my presence offends you, Tyrannus .” Baz flinches at his first name. I know he hates it. So of course I use it as much as possible.

Baz scratches at his neck nervously. He actually doesn’t look calm for once. “I never should’ve come here. I hate parties.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Really? I thought the great Baz Pitch would love shindigs with his adoring fans.”

“Contrary to your deluded beliefs, Snow, most people don’t like me. Apparently I’m pretty off putting.”

I look away, brow furrowed in anger. “Agatha likes you,” I grumble.

Baz scoffs very audibly. “Oh please, this again? I didn’t ask for your girlfriend to take an interest in me.”

My blood boils. “You flirted with her! I saw you two in the woods!”

“I was going on a walk! She followed me! Besides, it doesn’t matter, I’m g-” He freezes. I turn to look at him. He’s got that deer in the headlights look again. Plus he’s blushing. Hard.

“What?” I say. “You’re what?”

His mouth hangs open for a bit. But then he closes it and looks away. His infuriating emotionless mask returns. “It’s nothing.”

I scoff. “Fine, don’t tell me. Prat.”

Our silence resumes. I nervously tap my foot. Baz fiddles with his watchband. How long have we been in here? It feels like eternity. His presence is always suffocating, and it’s worse in an enclosed space.

I hang my head and groan. “This is ridiculous.”

“We can agree on that,” Baz says. “I’m going to kill Dev later.”

“And I’ll take care of Keris.”

Baz chuckles. And I’m pretty sure it’s the first time I’ve heard him laugh with me, not at me. (He actually has a pretty nice laugh.) “Corking idea, Snow. It’ll be quicker if we work as a team.”

I smirk. “How shall we do it? Lead pipe? Beer bottle? Both will cause inordinate amounts of pain.”

Baz raises his eyebrows all the way up to his widow’s peak. “Listen to you, Snow. I didn’t realise you had such a brutal streak.”

“I’m more dangerous than people realise. You learn things growing up in foster homes.”

“Oh really? Could you teach me how to steal a car? I’d love to nick my Dad’s BMW.”

I let out a barking laugh, shaking my head. “I wish! No, never picked that one up. And what, your Dad doesn’t let his perfect son just drive it around?”

“Oh, he won’t let me near it. Not after I totalled the last one.”

I freeze in place. “You...totalled a car?”

Baz's eyes go wide. I don't think he meant to tell me. He rubs the back of his neck again. “Yeah, a couple of months ago, just before school started. It was...a bad day, and my Dad decided to be a total prick. So I decided to go to a bar, get absolutely plastered, and climb into the car. Next thing I knew I was wrapped around a telephone pole, and badly hurt. That’s why I was absent until November. Had to recover.”

I remember that. He was gone with no explanation. I thought he was plotting something. It drove me mental. I was so worried. Then he showed up out of the blue and acted like nothing had happened. Honestly, it’s been on my mind for months now. Knowing now feels, weird. But also good, I guess.

“Wow,” I whisper, “that’s awful.”

He shrugs. “It happened. It’s done. He blames me for getting drunk. I blame him for starting an argument on that day of all days.”

I cautiously move closer to him. It’s like approaching a wolf. But he’s not a wolf, or a threat. He’s just a boy.

“What...day was it?” I ask softly.

Baz runs a hand through his hair, releasing it from his usual slicked back style. It falls in front of his face in a lazy wave. (It looks better, actually.) He chews at his lips.

“It was, the anniversary of my mother’s death.”

Oh. Shit. I should’ve known. Everyone knows about Headmistress Grimm-Pitch’s untimely demise. Not all the details, of course. Just that she died on school grounds. Baz was there, and he miraculously survived. Penny told me all about it a couple years ago. It was the first time I actually felt bad for him. This is the second.

I scoot a bit closer to him. We’re sitting side by side now, nearly touching.

“I’m, I’m sorry, Baz. That’s horrible,” I say.

Tear falls down Baz’s face. He doesn’t even wipe them away, just lets them slide on his cheeks. “He said I was shameful. That I was a stain of the family name. And he didn’t say it outright, but I knew he meant my mother would be disappointed in me. She would hate who I am, what I’ve become. I just can’t take it! I wish I was different, I wish I had gone with her, I wish-”

Without so much as a second thought, I grab Baz’s face and kiss him.

I don’t know what I’m doing. I just want him to stop talking like this. I hate seeing him suffer so much. He gasps and his eyes widen. He’s completely frozen. My eyes are screwed shut as I press my lips against his. It’s so weird, really weird. But it feels...right.

He finally kisses me back, pushing against me with a frightening amount of force. It feels like a fight. And I don’t like to lose. So I push back, moving my mouth fervently. His lips are colder than Agatha's, softer too. It feels nice. He grabs my neck, sending a shiver up my spine, and I run my hand in his hair. It's soft, just like I always thought. I grab a fistful and shove his face into mine more. He pulls away.

“Sorry,” I say. I'm out of breath, it's embarrassing.

“No,” he whispers as he lets my neck go, “it's just...” His voice trails off into a chuckle as he shakes his head.

“What is it?”

He looks up. He's smiling, not like a villain or a smug asshole, just softly. Like he's actually, happy. “That...was my first kiss.”

Oh. I start giggling. Baz furrows his brow.

“What's so funny?” he asks with a frown.

I shrug. “It's just, I thought Mr. Pitch the Popular would've had at least one peck from adoring fans.”

Baz scoffs and shakes his head. “I told you, I'm not popular. Besides,” he cups my face, (it feels really nice), “I've only ever wanted to kiss you, Simon.”

I feel heat bloom across my face. I'm blushing more than I have ever have in my whole life. “Oh...”

He runs his thumb over my cheek. It feels really good. I'm not sure why, but I don't care right now. I lean towards him. I just want kiss him again. Baz leans forward too, his grey eyes fluttering shut.

“Alright guys, times u-” Trixie freezes at the door. As do Agatha, Niall, and Gareth, all standing right behind her. I can't imagine what they're thinking, seeing me and my supposedly hated roommate, without a doubt, about to kiss. I smile sheepishly. Baz pulls away and looks at the floor with an intense blush.

“What the...” Gareth breaths out.

Niall clasps a hand over his mouth. “Holy shit.”

Agatha just stares with her jaw hanging open.

I grin and clap very dramatically. “Right! Thanks for the game, guys, but I think Baz and I are going to bow out. That good, Baz?”

Baz smirks. “Very good, Snow.”

I reach my hand out to him, and he takes it. His long, cool fingers lace together with mine. I drag him out of the closet (oh the irony). I give one last nod to our slack mouthed companions and we rush out the door.

We dash through the Watford halls, laughing as we run. We make it back to our room, only to collapse on my bed. (It’s the closest and we’re completely out of breath.) My sides hurt from laughing and running.

“Oh my god,” I wheeze, “the looks on their faces!”

“I think Agatha will be rethinking everything now,” Baz sputters.

That sends me on another bout of giggles. “She must be freaking out!”

We laugh like hyenas. Our sounds echo in the otherwise silent room. Slowly, we catch our breaths. I realise I haven't let go of Baz's hand. We're still gripping each other tightly. I turn to look at him. He's looking at the ceiling with that soft smile. The pale moonlight from our open windows illuminate his features, from his gorgeous grey eyes to his sharp cheekbones. He's so beautiful. How did I never notice before?

“Why,” he says quietly, “did you kiss me?”

I shrug. “I wanted to, I guess.”

“For how long?”

“I’m not sure. But I do know,” I reach out to play some of his black hair, “I really liked it.”

Baz’s inhales sharply. He finally turns to look at me. His expression is hard to read. It’s some fascinating, confusing mix between fear and awe. I trace down his jaw. I can feel his hot breath on my skin, see his gaze fixed at my lips.

“What about you? For how long?” I whisper.

He looks back up under half lidded eyes. “What?”

“For how long have you wanted to kiss me?”

He sighs heavily. “A long time. Almost since we met.”

Looking back, I should’ve known. Everything Baz has ever said, ever done, realigns itself in my head. I scold past Simon for being such an idiot. At least present Simon knows better now.

I scoot forward to tap my forehead against his. “Was it everything you hoped for then? Your first kiss?”

He smiles in that soft, human way again. “Yes. And more.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Think it’d be just as good again?”

He grabs my collar roughly. His smile changes to a playful smirk. There’s a devilish glint in his grey eyes. “Well, there’s only one way to find out.”

I grin, clenching my fist in his hair. “Agreed.”

I’m not sure who kisses who this time. It doesn’t matter. We both want each other, want this, more than anything else. And we’re not letting it go.

AN: Aw they're in love. Gross. *hisses and retreats back into dark emo cave of solitude.*

[formula-what]

I’m not dragging the drivers for being straight. that’s completely ridiculous. I’m dragging f1 and fia and honestly motosport as a whole for repeatedly making it clear that they give zero shits about the lgbtq+ community.

I genuinely do not care if any of the current grid are gay or straight or whatever. It’s none of my business. I don’t know them personally. they can date whoever they want and use whatever label they want. I don’t care.

The people behind We Race As One are not the drivers.

It’s F1 and the FIA. and they stand as one rich straight white man.

I’ve said it before and I’m going to keep saying it. It’s not about the drivers. The drivers don’t even decide if they want to kneel. It’s decided by the team. It’s decided by the fia. Which is, most likely, a bunch of rich straight white men.

tw homophobia

I’ve talked about this so. many. times. here’s probably my most ranty one

and I’m trying not to repeat myself but what I do care about is how f1 treats us. The painfully obvious casual homophobia.

how straight is the default. every interview that should be about racing but instead is questions about girlfriends. The whole ““bromance”” thing. How whenever they talk about drivers being friends the punchline always seems to be “haha that’s so gay”.

How there has never been an openly gay f1 driver. EVER.

How people are actually scared to come out because they don’t know what kind of influence that will have on their career. Not only reaction from fans (may I comment on how people actually *wait* outside hotels hoping to get a driver signature. I can’t help but imagine what could happen if a driver came out and people waited for them in one of the countries where being gay is literally *illegal*) but reaction from the team too. Even if the team “supports” them, if enough sponsors pull out they will take their seat.

We’ve seen how desperate teams get over finance, if they can give drivers a seat purely because of economics, you bet they can take them away too.

But mainly, I was being snarky about We Race As One. I’m still holding a grudge from when they announced the “movement”. During pride week. Using rainbows as the logo. And yet didn’t mention sexuality even once.

How McLaren STILL have rainbows plastered all over their GARAGE, RACESUIT, and CAR, and yet havent said anything. Even if it is actually a subtle nod towards the lgbt community, it sucks that they can’t say the words. That this sport is in a place where even suggesting about being an ally could have such a large impact on someone’s career. Never mind actually coming out.

But my comment wasn’t even about that. It’s the fact that even though We Race As One is doing nothing for the lgbt community, so many bigots think that it is. and they think it’s okay to announce their disapproval of that.

When they launched in PRIDE MONTH there was blatant outright homophobia in the comments of every. single. f1 post on every. single. social media. for the whole month. Completely unprompted, purely just because of the rainbow logo. And not ONE person from f1 spoke out about it. Not even an acknowledgement. From a driver or a team or a presenter. Nothing.

Even now, nearly a year after the launch, there’s still so many homophobic comments about it. And what? We’re supposed to just ignore that? Put up with it? I’m fucking fed up.

In your tags as 'we race as one what?' I don't understand why you need to bring their sexuality into it. Using the words of the lgbtq+ community, sexuality isn't something you can control, so I don't see why you have to bring their sexuality into this argument in a serious manner? I know that there certainly have been instances that display homophobic behaviors from homophobic drivers, but I don't understand why you need to drag all of them for being straight. Sorry if I overreacted!

I’m not going into this immediately before a race.

[deborahdeshoftim5779]

Questions for HSM III (Part VII)

We are literally now diving into the abyss. If I had posted a picture of the Titanic wreck instead of this one, we wouldn’t have sunk far enough. 

On Troy and his Dad

1- I’m a fan of Troy’s scenes with his dad. Despite the significant challenges in their relationship, and despite the burden of pressure that Jack Bolton places on his son’s shoulders, the father-son bond is real, relatable and touching. I like Jack Bolton on the whole, because he’s that traditional kind of father sadly lacking in today’s society. One of those men who worked up from the bottom and is keen to pass these values onto his son. Troy has a strong work ethic (when referring to being the Coach’s son: “makes me practice a little harder”) is a thoroughly fair and decent guy and doesn’t believe in taking shortcuts to success. I believe this comes from his father. 

Given that Jack Bolton asks about Gabriella, having come to accept that she isn’t just his “detention buddy” (that scene in HSM I makes me crack up every time), I would like to have known his reaction to her unannounced disappearance and the resultant effect on Troy. Surely Mr. Bolton saw his son moping around at school? Would he particularly well-disposed towards Gabriella or am I just wishing he’d advise his son to date someone else? Mr. Bolton asks Troy whether Gabriella will still be attending prom, to which Troy answers yes with a smile. Read and weep, people. Read and weep. Again, I wonder what the Bolton patriarch’s reaction would be when she suddenly decided she wasn’t coming. After all, in HSM I, he unreasonbly got angry with Gabriella for allegedly causing Troy to get a detention (she did no such thing). How would he have reacted? Or is he caught up in Troy/Gabriella hype, too? I’d love to know. 

2- Notice the pride in Troy’s voice when he says “She’s knee-deep in geniuses out there.” I would love to have heard that phone-call, particularly to hear whether Gabriella apologized for jumping ship after lying to him that she just meant “goodnight”. Of course, Troy doesn’t mention it. But if that phonecall was anything like the one we’re going to hear soon, then I have no hopes. I really hope Gabriella doesn’t get a job in Customer Sales, because she has a terrible telephone manner. Even when dressed as a pretend maid, she managed to sound like an irritable, huffy miseryguts. 

Then Troy says that Gabriella made a comment about the food at Stanford and East High. See, this is where hearing the conversation would have been helpful. Is that really the most remarkable thing that Gabriella said to him over the phone-- that the food was worse at Stanford? (If any Stanford graduate can back that up, I’d be grateful.Gabriella whines about everything, so I don’t take anything she says at face value). Oh hi, Troy: everyone here is really clever and the food sucks, and yes, I’m still coming to prom. Seriously, this sounds like the extent of their conversation, otherwise Troy would have mentioned it. Are we to assume that she did or did not ask after him, his feelings, his studies, let alone apologize for her grand departure? I’m digging and I’m theorizing, yes, but this seems to be in line with the stilted nature of their conversations. Am I missing something?

3- So, are we to believe that the reason Mr Bolton shoots hoops in the backyard is because he doesn’t know how to deal with Troy potentially attending another college/school? Because if so, that might explain Troy’s upcoming mental breakdown in the gym. When is Mr. Bolton going to learn to communicate with his son in a more constructive manner?

4- Does Mrs. Bolton have a say in this? No indication is given on what she thought about Troy’s further education. Yet her view would matter too, right?

5- “Chad will be awfully disappointed if you decide to change your mind!” Behold, the reason why people choose a college: because best friends. Seriously, Mr. Bolton? Didn’t this same man say in HSM II that Troy wasn’t going to be with the Wildcats forever? That the team was great now, but in future, he would need to seize his own opportunities? Or was that good advice only relevant because Troy was trying to secure finance for his father’s alma mater? But then again, precisely what were Mr. Bolton’s thoughts when, during HSM II, Troy DITCHED a scholarship opportunity for no good reason other than to appease his friends and girlfriend? Because judging by their interaction here, it doesn’t even come up in conversation. How did Mr. Bolton react then, when Troy let a golden opportunity slip through his fingers? Remember, Mr. Bolton made the effort to watch Troy playing with the Redhawks in order to give a good report to Mr. Evans. In order to give Troy the best shot possible. So if Mr. Bolton got over the fact that Troy flushed this all down the toilet for his ungrateful girlfriend and ungrateful friends, then why’s he guilt-tripping Troy into accepting U of A? Then again, if he WASN’T cool with Troy’s “decision” in HSM II, why aren’t they talking about that now? (Like to answer that, Script?) Thoroughly unconstructive, hypocritical behaviour from Mr. Bolton here. On the first watch, I thought Troy’s annoyance was overdone; now it’s completely understandable. 

An answer, please. Someone. 

6- “You raised me to make my own choices, and I need to make ‘em. Not you, or Chad, or anyone else. ME.”

Wise words coming from a guy who is now about to do the complete opposite for the rest of this film. 

On Troy’s Nervous Breakdown and Ms Darbus

1- I honestly skip this section. It’s extremely boring and depressing, but totally understandable. On the first watch, I was fighting to stay awake by this point. Troy is in the abyss. (So is this movie). His dad doesn’t understand him, his friends don’t take his aspirations and indecision seriously, his girlfriend is an ungrateful freeloader, the musical is going down the toilet (which is why he told his dad not to ask earlier) and he feels like jumping out one of his beloved trees. “Scream” encompasses all of the above conflict and is a reasonable climactic point for the movie. (Actually, on second listen, this song is quite catchy, if a little try-hard in the pop department). It should have been followed by an improvement in Troy’s circumstances, and more importantly, his decision-making. Alas...

Screaming seems to be Troy’s default method of releasing his anxiety, which follows on from his yelling in the Lava Springs kitchen during HSM II. This would imply, would it not, that Troy is actually quite a reserved guy except when on stage?

2- I like the scene between Troy and Ms Darbus, who, unlike Taylor, has dropped her lack of understanding towards sports stars. It is Ms Darbus who gives Troy the most meaningful encouragement and good advice that he has ever received in this entire movie. Not his girlfriend. Not his best friend. Not his father. But his teacher. Of course, any good teacher wishes the best for their students, but it says something when Troy had to run into an abandoned school and scream blue murder in order to process his emotions, instead of running to people who should be supportive and understanding. Ms Darbus believes in him, and thus submitted an application on his behalf to Juilliard, which is an act of confidence in his abilities and in his future. This is good. The stage is set for Troy’s grand decision later on. 

I really wish we had learned precisely which schools Troy might have attended and when he received his offers. But this would involve learning more about Troy’s life in isolation, and not as a subsidiary of Gabriella’s life. Why didn’t we get the necessary context leading to his “decision” RE Berkeley?

By the way, I have a solution for Ms Darbus struggle to rebalance the musical: scrub out Miss Montez’s part altogether. 

On Musical Disharmony and Hoops Man

So, Gabriella is learning her way around Stanford, good for her. A totally pointless scene that neither helps conclude Troy’s anxiety beforehand, nor leads into the musical that she abandoned with such casual hypocrisy. 

1- Poor Troy. He’s really trying. Kudos to Ryan for helping him out there, which I believe he did out of friendship and understanding, and not just because he is the choreographer. Another smiley face sticker for Ryan. Once again notice a complete lack of sympathy of understanding as demonstrated by any of the other Wildcats, which I suppose is unsurprising, given that they only agreed to do the show after Troy did. In other words, they expect him to do all the legwork and hold the show on his shoulders. As I mentioned before, you can see Chad muttering angrily to Taylor in the background, jabbing his arm in Troy’s direction. Folks, this is the guy who spent five minutes of your time claiming he didn’t dance. NOW he cares so much about the musical? Remember when I said that no one came to check on Troy after Gabriella left? Surely, Chad must have his own off days? Surely he must understand why Troy is so upset? Surely he knows that Troy has no chemistry with Sharpay whatsoever? This sudden annoyance grates on the nerves. 

2- “Hoops Man! Over here! You look like you’re having the time of your life!” Unlike Chad, who just blames Troy, or the other Wildcats who act like he doesn’t even exist even though they know he’s upset, Kelsi always does her best to keep Troy’s spirits up. Injecting some humour into the situation was a great way to break up the tension, disappointment and lack of energy in these rehearsals. Again, we are forced to believe that Gabriella’s absence is ruining the show; as I said before, I dispute such an assumption. The only ones willing to put in any effort are Kelsi, Ryan, Sharpay and Troy. As a composer, you would think that Kelsi would be the most irritated by Troy’s consistent mistakes and lack of focus; instead she shows him nothing but sympathy and understanding, so sadly lacking from almost everyone else. 

If only Kelsi had stopped here!

3- “It’s all of us, and all of us pretty much know why. If it wasn’t for Gabriella, this musical would have just been another “Sharpay Show”!”

Kelsi, please-- PLEASE-- be quiet! Don’t do this to yourself. Every time I watch this scene, I’m ready to quit the world. This is what ruins that which could have been another memorable Trelsi moment; Kelsi’s persistently illogical hero-worship of Gabriella on the basis of pure fantasy and catchy love songs rather than actual reality. Not only is this comment cringeworthy, it is completely false. It was Troy who agreed to the musical when everyone else was arguing against it. (Does she not remember jumping for joy when he finally capitulated, rather than when Gabriella stood up for her?!) So it’s Troy who saved the musical from being another “Sharpay Show”; Troy, who is standing right in front of her, doing his best to continue with said musical whilst Gabriella is chilling in Cali. (Alright, she’s not chilling, but roll with it). 

Why is Kelsi convinced that the show cannot run without Gabriella? This is a girl who applied to Juilliard (kudos to her), and so obviously must know that they perform musicals all the time... Without Gabriella! Would it make her happy if she brought Gabriella along with her to Juilliard, since it’s so clear that nothing can work otherwise? Have theatre performers had it wrong this entire time? Did West Side Story or Grease need Gabriella? When Kelsi was submitting her songs for the high school musicals and kept getting rejected, there were musicals that succeeded without Gabriella, were there not? There are only two Playmakers in this movie series: Troy and Kelsi. There are only four people chosen for a prestigious Performing Arts scholarship in this movie series, two of whom are Troy and Kelsi. What more evidence does Kelsi need that the world doesn’t revolve around Gabriella? And again, why does Kelsi say NOTHING when one of the show’s leads just ups and leaves without telling her-- AGAIN? Remember in High School Musical I, when Gabriella unilaterally decided that she and Troy wouldn’t do the musical based on that webcam stunt? Out of Troy and Gabriella, who do you think would have bothered to tell Kelsi? The script never showed us this, but I think I can guess. So should we really have any hopes that Gabriella would have told Kelsi about this new development in HSM III? But meanwhile, Kelsi still wants to have another jab at Sharpay. How many times has she written music for Sharpay now? Even when Sharpay was bossing her around in the first movie, she offered to write more solos! (”Uh... I should write you more solos?”) Stop kidding yourself, Kelsi. 

Ever astonishing and exasperating bias from Kelsi. 

People, I love Kelsi. She’s my second favourite character after Troy. But seriously, these questions must be asked. 

Still, she redeems herself for comforting Troy as always. 

TO BE CONTINUED

[ecotone99]

[RF] In the Dark

Chapter one

The engine turning over without igniting on my p.o.s truck is my worst nightmare. Especially when all the rich kids at my school love to watch the struggle. Almost as I’m a scene in National Geographic. “This fucking truck”! I shouted hitting the frayed steering wheel. I had just gotten out from 6th period at school on a Wednesday afternoon. It was hot and dry; a typical summer day in central California. I had learned to not let my poorness image affect me in any way. You see I was a loser, more importantly, I accepted the fact I was a loser. I had no skills that were worth anything. I sucked at sports, video games confused the shit out of me, and I wasn’t out on Friday nights cruising the streets, looking for teenage antics. I had about six months until graduation. I had a promising career at a grocery store or gas station in the future, as college wasn’t an option for me. But there is one thing I do that may separate me from the rest; I’m on a laser tag team. That’s right, laser tag. And tonight was a championship match that’s been 6 months in the making. I take laser tag very seriously. Its in the dark. You see, there’s no image to uphold in the dark. No judgement from others, and best of all, I can escape out of the real world. Escape into something else. Be someone else.

Chapter 2

I rolled up to the laser quest complex about an hour early. I completed my pre match ritual, and I was ready for action. Every professional athlete, performer, or entertainer has a pregame ritual. Mine has been developed, no, perfected over the past few years. I stretch my legs, you know the typical stretch you learn in elementary school. The one where you grab your foot and pull it up to your ass cheek. I eat some ramen (shrimp flavor) for some carbohydrates, and slip into a black shirt and black jeans. It’s important to wear black in the arena. Anything lighter than black will put a spotlight on your position from the hundreds of black lights lined throughout the gaming area. And lastly, I listen to a song by the band Korn, called blind. When I listen, I imagine myself as a mother fucking warrior during the game play. Flipping, bouncing off walls, having a shot accuracy of Atleast 98 percent, and then being hoisted out to the parking lot by my team mates after the win. Music has a funny way of helping you escape. I listen to music a lot.

Chapter 3

My teammates showed up shortly after I did. They’re older then me. They all had blue collar jobs, like the one I’ll probably get soon. They also loved the escape. They greeted me with fist bumps, and threw me a monster energy drink. We immediately started talking about the game plan inside. We have a play book, positions, and have even come up with our own form of communication, surely to confuse the other team. This was our life, and in a sense, this was our Super Bowl. We are all in, down to the custom titans stickers we had made down at the mall. We practice whenever we can. But unfortunately we don’t have the funds to rent out the arena to ourselves. When we do practice we typically have to play with the general public. Unfortunately not many adults play laser tag, so our opponents are typically kids that are attending birthday parties. As birthday parties are the main source of revenue for a place like this. We Annihilate the general public, all of our names appear on the game rankings at the end of a game, well before anyone else. Deep down we know it doesn’t mean much, but for a moment you feel pretty badass when you’re in the top ranks of a game. This list is displayed on a large tv screen in the lobby. Seeing your name on the big screen makes you feel as your watching a CBS sporting event, where you are the star of the show. We play in the regular laser tag league which consists of 4 teams. Our team is called the titans. There is typically a game once a month for 6 months, and a series of playoffs in the last month, determining the teams in the final. We beat the flames, and thunder hawks this year which led us to this moment. Tonight we play the beam masters. They’re good, if not the best.

Chapter 4

The beam masters were exceptional players. They seemed to have everything going for them Inside and outside of the arena. They all drove nice cars, played golf together, and seemed to be really close with one another. I don’t think they take this as seriously as us. I mean why would they? They have things to look forward to after this game tonight, they were living a great life, Atleast from my perspective. They rented out two hours of the arena every weekend to practice. That’s literally $400 a week for a private practice session. By default, they’re the best. In my head They share similarities to the jocks and popular kids in my school. We on the other hand, are kind of like the bad news Bears near the end of the movie when they started to get good. I would say we all have some personal issues, but through dedication And not really having a life outside of laser tag, we were damn good. Both teams were in the parking lot prior to the match. There’s not any bad blood, but the beam masters aren’t really talkative towards us. I have always wanted them to wish us good luck, Come over and start a conversation,help us feel normal for a brief period. But they didn’t. I guess we are outsiders in a game designed for outsiders. The irony of that makes my head hurt. It’s 20 minutes before game time now, I yelled at my teammates, “let’s get this party started”. We headed inside.

Chapter 5

The lobby of the arena smells of tombstone pizza, and burnt popcorn. It’s not the greatest smell to be exposed to, but it comes with the territory. The owner of the place stands on the concession counter and delivers instructions. He explains “its the Best of 3 matches, meaning who can win 2 out of the 3 games. Each game is 15 minutes long with a 10 minute reset. Each team will be awarded a win for most combined hits after the match.” He briefs us on safety, and stresses that no physical violence will take place of any kind. The titans aren’t physical anyways, most of us have never been in a real fight. Actually The thought of a real fight makes me want to piss my pants. However, I have a certain amount of rage within me that I’m sure will be let out someday. Maybe it’s from the rough childhood I had, maybe it’s the constant expectation of What society thinks I should be, maybe it will be a culmination of the loneliness I will endure for the rest of my life. I often wonder what form my rage would take if it ever came out? I don’t know. I’m pretty sure my teammates share the same similarities-but we never talk on that level. Probably because we are in denial, and why visit those emotions and feelings if there is no hope of changing from our simple pathetic lives. We walk into the player rooms to get geared up for the first match. We have a chest piece with Flashing lights and senors, and a gun that seems oversized for what it is. In my head it looks like armor from a medieval battle, or like we’re storm troopers ready to defend the dark side. We’re dressed, were nervous, but we are ready. A distorted announcement is heard on the speakers “You have 30 seconds to take formation in the arena before game play, starting now.” It’s our time, it’s my time. We may be the underdogs, but we’re hungry for a win.

Chapter 6

We take our station in the arena, and the game buzzer sounds. To us, it’s like the hunger games. This is life and death. The next season doesn’t start for another year. A long time to reflect on a loss, if that does happen. I sprint out and start firing. My teammates and I trade positions, using hand signals and yelling out strategic communications. It’s the longest 15 minutes of my life. I took some hits, but I know I tagged more than a few beamers. I felt good. As the first match ends, we feel we have come out on top. Entering the reset time we joked around as if we just beat the living shit out of them. However, when we got our scores, we came up short. Fuck I said. “That’s okay” I tell my teammates. We are all. Disappointed. We put everything into this, The thought of losing the only thing that we have in our life is unbearable. The second match starts, we continue to use the same tactics as before but the Beam masters are just so fluent in every aspect of the game. Every move we make they have already anticipated it. We go left they go right type of stuff. The match ends, and we wait for the scores in reset. We all know the outcome. But maybe there was a glitch in the scoring or something. Maybe we were just being too negative. Nope, They swept us. It wasn’t even close. That means it’s over. There is no third match, there are no technicalities, no options. It’s time to accept defeat. In less than 45 minutes, our small world has flipped upside down. We walk out to the parking lot, I’m not hoisted up.

Final

A full year to think about this. What do I have now? What am I supposed to dream about now? My teammates got in their cars and left. We didn’t say anything to each other afterwards, I mean what’s the point? it’s over. The beam masters stared my way but said nothing. I was hoping for some recognition from them, maybe to the affect of “you were a worthy opponent” or “you almost had us”. Sitting in my truck I started to weep. Weep like a fucking baby. It was too much to handle. For someone like me, who has so little, this is grounds for suicide. I got a sense of relief imagining my lifeless body swinging from a tall structure. Extreme? Maybe, maybe not. Ive come to realize that people who have money and lives seem to have a better chance at everything, or Atleast a head start. Or is it a level playing field? “Fuck that, it’s unfair”, I said. The truth is I have another year to bury these thoughts in my head. I thought, Maybe I can get into something else? I need something to make these painful thoughts of never amounting to anything go away. I want to be normal. I wish I had real bullets in my laser gun. I’m in the dark.

submitted by /u/One_take_only [link] [comments] via Blogger https://ift.tt/2TWwtfD

[flauntpage]

Have We Learned Nothing? – A Sixers Column

Bitch, whine, moan.

Sob, fret, complain.

Gripe, grumble, cry.

That’s what I heard from MANY – not ALL – but MANY Sixers fans on Saturday night, the entirety of Sunday, and also Monday morning when I reluctantly opened Twitter.

I’m willing to bet that the loudest complainers were anti-Process types who just came back to the bandwagon this year, set unrealistic expectations for a squad featuring a rookie point guard, second-year center, and second-year power forward, then went off the deep end spitting nonsense after a team with zero playoff experience failed to meet the outrageous goals that THEY THEMSELVES set.

Take a breather.

The Sixers are down 3-0 to a better team with a better coach as of May 7th, 2018. Ben Simmons, Joel Embiid, and Brett Brown have disappointed under the brightest glow of the still-nascent spotlight. There’s no disputing that. I think everyone is in agreement that the coach and the two stars have underwhelmed, though I’d also extend that to Dario Saric and Robert Covington and a number of the veterans who have actually been here before. Nobody is blameless.

Does that mean that the players suck and the coach should be fired and the general manager should resign? No, of course not. It means that the more experienced team with the more experienced players (minus future superstar Jayson Tatum) simply took round one in what will inevitably become the Eastern Conference’s premier rivalry over the next half-decade.

That’s it. That’s the explanation. That is William of Ockham’s razor. 

Yet here we are, doing what Philadelphia always does, and proclaiming the franchise dead and buried and flattened to the point of no return.

“They’ve been EXPOSED!” is a local favorite.

Can we please stop using that word? He got “exposed.” She got “exposed.” We say it as if coaches and players and executives can never evolve or learn or adapt, as if once a flaw is exploited, it always remains.

There are a million examples of people who were once “exposed” but figured it out and turned it around. Doug Pederson and Nick Foles come to mind. How about LeBron James? Jared Goff? 2004 Drew Brees vs. 2003 Drew Brees? Even Sergio Garcia won The Masters.

Of course the counterpoint to that is Byron Maxwell, so I’ll give you that one, but let’s continue with the Eagles theme.

These knee-jerk, “fire everyone” types are the same fans who became so irrationally flustered when the Eagles hit the wall after starting 3-0 with a rookie quarterback and first-year head coach. That pair, Pederson and Carson Wentz, won the franchise its first Super Bowl the very next season. Same thing with the cross-section of fans who complained about Earl Thomas vs. Brandon Graham for YEARS. “Why did we draft THIS GUY when we should have drafted THAT GUY!” Blah blah blahhhhhhhhh! Well, the guy you loved to hate just secured the Lombardi trophy. Jason Kelce basically wrote this column for me when he highlighted every criticism of a championship squad.

Have we learned nothing?

It’s obvious that we as a group of media, fans, and Philly people in general lack the simple ability to evaluate recent history and apply it to likewise scenarios. It’s like a provincial version of “Batman Begins,” where instead of pouring that hallucinogen into the Gotham water supply, the villain instead creates a drug that forces all Philadelphia sports fans to grow up with advanced-stage nearsightedness.

Here’s the thing; the best trait of the Philadelphia sports fan – unconditional support and emotional attachment – is also the worst trait of the Philadelphia sports fan, because it results in a recurring and collective lack of critical thinking and temperance.

I said at the beginning of the season that I felt like 2017-18 was a developmental bridge. This was the campaign that was supposed to connect the end of “Process” era to the beginning of the competitive era. The goals were to establish Ben Simmons, Joel Embiid, and Markelle Fultz as cornerstone players, qualify for the postseason, and get that crucial April and May experience under your belt. They hit all but one of those goals (Fultz).

A final and related goal, in my opinion, was to head into this offseason with a full understanding of what you currently have and what you are also lacking, which I’d have to label as incomplete because of Fultz debacle. If Ben Simmons and Joel Embiid are known quantities now carrying crucial regular and postseason experience, then Fultz is still sitting on the basketball tarmac and waiting for takeoff.

I think one of the problems is what I mentioned earlier, the fact that people who are just returning to the Sixers are expecting immediate success. The contrast is that the Sam Hinkie/Process supporters are extra-patient by default, so it creates a large disparity, or maybe a wider spectrum I would say, that separates each respective end of the Sixers’ fan base. Lost and forsaken in the expansive middle is the calm and rational fan who says, “you know what, I’m disappointed right now, but they’ve taken a lot of steps forward this year.”

The Sixers have talked about adjusting expectations this year, the idea that their goals changed as they figured out that they were better than advertised. First it was playoffs, then it was home court, then it was 50 wins. I appreciated that from a competitive standpoint but didn’t find it to be healthy in regard to practicality. I’ll go to the grave believing that expectations must be set at the beginning of the season and can’t be placed on a sliding scale, because progress is best documented in larger chunks that incorporate a more robust sample size or body of work.

Look at the treasure trove of information Bryan Colangelo and Brett Brown now have, RE: what’s wrong and what needs to be fixed. This ass kicking is so valuable to the Sixers because it puts their glaring weaknesses on display for everyone to see. If they didn’t know it before, they now understand exactly what teams are going to do to slow them down and bottle up Ben Simmons. They know that they need players who can create their own shot on offense. They know what Embiid has to do to improve his low post game. There’s data and film on turnovers, rebounds, transition opportunities, dribble hand-offs, horns, SLOBs, and every play imaginable.

They’ve got the entire summer to figure out.

If Bryan Colangelo blows the offseason, or you see a lack of improvement next year, then you absolutely start thinking about the head coach and the strategy that’s currently in place. As far as I’m concerned, this was year number one for the coach and year number two for the GM, and the latter has much more on his shoulders than the former.

All of that said, this season was a wild success. You’ve got two young superstars, a couple of key supplemental pieces, and a road map for the future. To say otherwise is total horse shit, no matter whether you were pro-process, anti-process, somewhere between ambivalent and apathetic.

We all just need to be a bit more like Andy Reid. We need to “do a better job” of taking the erudite long view and suppressing our hereditary knee-jerk myopia, because it’s utterly rudimentary and pointless and makes us look like jabronies.

    Have We Learned Nothing? – A Sixers Column published first on https://footballhighlightseurope.tumblr.com/

[amtushinfosolutionspage]

DGB Grab Bag: Penguins Controversy, New Stats Galore, and a Terrible Hype Vid

Three Stars of Comedy

The third star: Whatever this is. The KHL is weird, man.

The second star: Angry (former) Olympians. Passive-aggressive hockey stars are my favorite hockey stars.

The first star: Jack Eichel gets some pointers. Yeah, it’s these guys again. Honestly, it was kind of slim pickings this week and I didn’t feel like seeing who the Golden Knights’ Twitter was murdering this week, so let’s just go with this.

Outrage of the Week

The issue: On Sunday morning, as the sports world reacted to President Donald Trump attacking Steph Curry and the Warriors while urging NFL owners to fire “son of a bitch” players for protesting, the Penguins announced that they would still be making the White House visit.

The outrage: You have very strong feelings about whether they should go or not.

Is it justified: There have been plenty of takes about the issue—like this and this and this—and you’ve probably read them all. Or you haven’t read any, because you’re in the “stick to sports” camp, in which case you’ve already scrolled past this section. I have my views on Donald Trump and what’s left of the political discourse in the United States right now, and if you care about them then you’re free to ask. But you probably don’t. You’re here for hockey talk and jokes and YouTube clips of awkwardly lip-synching players. I get it. Ideally, we could skip the politics altogether. Except that, thanks to the Penguins, doing that this week would also mean skipping the biggest story in the league.

It’s hard not to have at least a little sympathy for the team here. They know what a trip to the White House means these days, and they realize that by going they’ll be used as a prop in smiling photo ops with a president many see as an embarrassment. They also understand that by not going, they’d be making a statement that would get them sucked into the never-ending culture wars, applauded by the left for a few days and then forgotten while the right harbors a grudge forever. They tried to find a middle ground, but there isn’t one. It’s a yes-or-no question, and so the team defaulted to doing what every other team before them has done. But right now, the things we always used to do don’t feel like they matter much anymore.

The Penguins didn’t ask for any of this, and it’s fair to assume that they’re profoundly uncomfortable with the entire situation. That’s how hockey people work. With few exceptions, they don’t want to be front and center when it comes to politics because they don’t want to be front and center for anything at all. Show up, do your job, mumble about getting pucks in deep, and go home. Hockey players barely want to be on ESPN, let alone CNN or Fox News.

So the Penguins were stuck, knowing they’d be attacked no matter what they said, and there didn’t seem to be a right answer available to them. Except that there was.

What they should have said was nothing.

That’s it. Just nothing at all. We didn’t need to hear from the Pittsburgh Penguins on Sunday morning.

Yes, that would have meant ignoring questions they were no doubt already fielding from the media. Sure, it goes against the old P.R. rule about getting out ahead of the story instead of letting someone else control it for you. And yeah, it would have just delayed the inevitable for a few days, because eventually you’re going to have to answer the question.

But there’s a time and a place for that. And Sunday morning wasn’t it.

All across the country, NFL players were getting ready to make a statement. They have been protesting racial inequality—not against the anthem, or the flag, or Trump, and certainly not for “unity,” despite the league’s best efforts to rebrand it that way. That’s a topic that doesn’t touch the NHL as much as it does other leagues, for obvious reasons, and that’s a big part of why the Penguins’ response bothered so many people. This wasn’t their fight. They didn’t need to be the kid in the front row, frantically waving his arm to make sure everyone knew he handed in the assignment.

The Penguins gave us a teachable moment on Sunday, and the lesson is this: Sometimes it’s OK to let somebody else have the floor. Especially these days, if you see that somebody else is angry, or hurting, or asking for change, and they’re willing to stand up—or take a knee—to make themselves heard, and you can’t fully understand exactly why because maybe it’s an issue that doesn’t impact you in the same way it does them, then maybe you don’t need to jump right into the conversation. You don’t have to add your voice to the mix right away, and you certainly don’t need to make it about you. Sometimes the best choice is to just step back and listen.

It’s quite literally the least you can do. It’s basic courtesy. And that’s the test the Penguins failed on Sunday.

Obscure Former Player of the Week

A few weeks ago, we made a passing reference to Lee Fogolin being obscure. That seems like it should be enough to earn a guy Obscure Player honors, so here we are.

Fogolin was the Sabres’ first-round pick, 11th overall, in 1974. That draft wasn’t very good, and is probably best known for A) the Islanders setting themselves up for a dynasty by finding Clark Gillies and Bryan Trottier while the rest of the league basically found nobody at all, and B) the Sabres getting annoyed at how long it was taking and drafting a fictional player just to mess with everyone.

Still, Fogolin was a decent pick. The son of Original Six era defenseman Lee Fogolin Sr., he was a stay-at-home blue-liner in an era when that was still a valuable thing to be and could also play a bit of forward on the penalty kill. He cracked the Sabres lineup pretty much right away, and spent five seasons in Buffalo. While he scored only eight goals that entire time, he became a fan favorite with his defensive play and willingness to stick up for his teammates.

The Oilers claimed him in the 1979 quasi-expansion draft held when four WHA teams were absorbed into the league. He had some of his best years as an Oiler, including a 13-goal season in 1980-81, and was the team’s captain until Wayne Gretzky took over the duties in 1983. Fogolin won two Cups as an Oiler and was picked as an All-Star by Edmonton coach Glen Sather in 1986, before being traded back to Buffalo at the 1987 deadline. He played the last few games of his career there before retiring.

Here’s my favorite Lee Fogolin fact: In the 1970s, the Sabres gave out a Most Improved Player award, and Fogolin won it…twice. In a three-year span. That seems like it shouldn’t be possible, but he took home the honors in 1976 and 1978. I don’t know if he just regressed really badly in 1977 or if voters figured they’d stick with the familiar, but it’s fair to say that not many NHL players can lay claim to being multi-time Most Improved Player winners.

The NHL Actually Got Something Right

On Wednesday, the NHL put out what at first glance seemed like a pretty boring press release: they’d added updated information dating back to 1917 to the stats section of their website.

This announcement didn’t seem all that new; the league told us it was working on this back in 2015, and the full project had been going on for years before that. Previous rollouts were largely met with a shrug. This one seems to have been, too. The announcement of the offside review change being finalized, which came out 15 minutes later, overshadowed the stats announcement easily, and most of the reactions I saw were some variation on the same jokes about how poorly the league’s stats site works in the first place.

That’s fair—the site is still a mess. It’s clunky and slow, and seems to have been put together by somebody who doesn’t really understand what kind of information hockey fans would be looking for. Virtually nobody in the media seems to use it, which is why you always hear so much complaining when one of the amateur sites goes dark.

But take a closer look at this week’s news, and it’s clear that this is a big deal. The NHL didn’t just revamp its stats, or get around to uploading information that was already available somewhere else. They literally just dropped a ton of new numbers on us, stuff that we’ve never seen before. They’ve updated and corrected the numbers on several players, giving us new tidbits like Wayne Gretzky now joining Bobby Orr and Larry Robinson as the only +100 players in league history. (For the last three decades, he’d been incorrectly listed at +98.) More important, they’ve now filled out the history of stats like shooting and save percentage that had been tracked in some form for years but weren’t widely available.

This is huge. Until now, you couldn’t look up Ken Dryden’s save percentage on a site like Hockey-Reference. Now we have it on the NHL site. Mix in the detailed box scores for individual games and game logs for players, and this is a gold mine for stats geeks.

The site itself is still a pain to use, and it’s hard not to hope that Hockey-Reference or whoever else just grabs all the data and drops it into their far more user-friendly interface. But even if that happens, the NHL deserves plenty of credit here. This couldn’t have been a small project. And it’s not one that’s ever going to put any cash directly into the league’s pocket.

But they did it anyway, because for once they seem to have remembered that there’s value in making fans happy. It’s a small thing in the grand scheme of things, but kudos to the league for making it happen.

Classic YouTube Clip Breakdown

The regular season is almost here, which is good news for just about everyone other than the Colorado Avalanche. On the heels of one of the worst seasons of the salary cap era, the Avs are expected to struggle again, and virtually nobody thinks they’ll even get close to the playoff hunt. What’s worse, they managed to somehow make the whole Matt Duchene situation even more volatile. A bad team, an unhappy star, and little in the way of hope. That’s not a great package.

Could it get any worse? Yes. Yes it could. At least nobody is singing shirtless.

It’s March 2014, and times are good in Colorado. After missing the playoffs for three straight years, the Avalanche are good again, and well on their way to what will turn out to be a 112-point season. New coach Patrick Roy has turned the team around, and all that losing is clearly a thing of the past. It feels like it’s time for a song.

Wait, we’re not ready yet. Gabriel Landeskog is still sleeping. Rest up, little cowboy, you’ve got a big day ahead of you.

We get a few more dramatic shots of players, including Nathan MacKinnon walking down the street and nodding. We can’t hear what’s being said to him, but it’s safe to assume it’s “Is this a terrible idea?”

We also get a look at Matt Duchene, who is WAY TOO CLOSE TO US RIGHT NOW. Seriously Matt, back up a few steps and try again. Is this how you ask Joe Sakic for a trade? Because if so, I think I might understand why he’s not listening to you.

We’re 30 seconds in and I already feel like I need a shower. Oh, cool, thanks Paul Stastny, perfect timing.

Oh look, Landeskog is awake. At, uh, 3 PM. He’s either just had his game-day nap, or he’s doing an impression of me in college.

I’ll be honest, I spent a little too much time trying to figure out which player was lip-synching next to the big drum. That is, of course, the lead singer of Imagine Dragons, whose song this is. Apparently we’re going to get a few shots from the real video, which is, believe it or not, even weirder than this version. Really. There’s muppet cage-fighting and everything.

Meanwhile, we get Avalanche players lip-synching lyrics like “checking out on the prison bus” and “this is it, the apocalypse.” Um, are we sure this video isn’t from this year?

We get some shots of game action, mixed in with angry Paul, shirtless Gabe, and Matt Duchene’s tonsils. I feel like MacKinnon got off easy in all this. All he has to do is stand on a bridge and look like he’s thinking of jumping, which doesn’t even really count as acting at this point.

“We’ll paint it red, to fit right in.” I’m guessing that “it” is Semyon Varlamov’s goal light.

Can we just point out that Landeskog looks roughly 37 years old? Are we sure the NHL isn’t a bad TV series about high school kids and they just cast a bunch of middle-aged actors to play Landeskog and Aaron Ekblad?

Hey Gabe, how are you feeling about the 2017-18 season?

We make it two minutes in before our first shot of Roy. Seriously, you couldn’t have got a giant drum and let him beat on it for a while? You could put a Red Wing goalie’s face on it and just let him do what comes naturally.

At 2:20 we get a quick cameo from George Parros. Hey George, congrats on the new job, do you have the power to retroactively suspend marketing departments?

We conclude with Landeskog turning to the camera and dramatically asking “Why not us?” The follow-up video, in which a bunch of shirtless analytics geeks lip-synch the words “because your success is driven by PDO and is completely unsustainable,” did not prove as popular.

It won’t shock you to learn that this video wasn’t exactly well received; it was called “bizarre” and “dumb” and “the ickiest thing ever.” To this day, the team hasn’t been allowed to forget it.

Oh, and the 2013-14 Avalanche were upset in the first round by the Minnesota Wild. Stastny left as a free agent that summer, Roy quit on the team last summer, Duchene wants out, and they haven’t been back to the playoffs since. At this point, the whole franchise seems like it’s…contaminated? Toxic? I feel like there’s a better word here, but I can’t quite find it. I’m going to strip down and go sing into my mirror until it comes to me.

Have a question, suggestion, old YouTube clip, or anything else you’d like to see included in this column? Email Sean at nhlgrabbag@gmail.com .

DGB Grab Bag: Penguins Controversy, New Stats Galore, and a Terrible Hype Vid syndicated from http://ift.tt/2ug2Ns6

[junker-town]

I’m a Falcons fan. Not even 28-3 can break me.

Losing Super Bowl 51 was the bottom. Nothing will ever hurt that bad again.

28-34: 2nd and Goal, James White 2 yard touchdown run, Patriots win in OT

I decided the confetti would not touch me. That was the line I drew; that was the one indignity I refused as an Atlanta Falcons fan. The bags released from the NRG Stadium ceiling the second the review of White’s touchdown was upheld and I started hopping along empty seats, around and through Patriots fans, abandoning the sight of what had happened as fast as damn possible. This manic exit was probably the most athletic feat of my adult life.

The dry heaving started as soon as I got to the concourse. I couldn’t actually vomit -- I hadn’t eaten in seven hours, first because of nerves and then because I didn’t want to miss a single play of this, our coronation! But just in case I stood over one of those trash cans with the recycling dividers on the lid.

I started to gag again.

“Ooooh, oh baby. Baby, you gonna be OK,” a beer lady closing down her kiosk said.

This was the same area in which, two hours prior, I had solicited a high-five from an on-duty Texas Ranger after Tevin Coleman scored Atlanta’s fourth touchdown. This stupefying extension of my white privilege not only didn’t earn me a taser or handcuffs, but the high-fived law enforcement office responded “Man, y’all sure are laying the damn wood,” with a smile.

I wanted so badly to vomit, hoping that would stop the pain in my stomach. If one of the three Budweisers or the $9 bottle of Dasani came up, I decided I could spit it through either the “plastic” or “landfill” holes on the bin.

A stranger in an Alge Crumpler jersey stopped to look at me while he lit a cigarette inside the building.

“Hey man,” he said. “Cursed. We are fucking cursed.”

28-28: Two point conversion, Tom Brady pass to Danny Amendola

Atlanta fans are not cursed. No one is. A sports curse is a stupid, lazy way to explain away the failings of millionaire strangers you’re embarrassed to be emotionally invested in.

Besides, I don’t think Atlanta Falcons fans are allowed to claim a curse. Curses are pacifiers for shitty performing teams who have national appeal, and almost every conversation I’ve had with strangers about the Falcons -- my favorite team in any sport for my entire life -- inevitably arrives at the same question, even after I explain I’m from Georgia: Why the Falcons?

About that: I’m not explaining that anymore, why I care so much about the Falcons I was gagging into a trash can. No one asks people why they vomit in The Meadowlands.

My family is from Georgia; half from Macon crackers and half from Roswell WASPs. That’s it. That’s why I’m a Falcons fan. I don’t have to justify shit to you, Tampa homeowner in a Steelers jersey.

Here’s where we skip the four paragraphs about ennui and Southern pro sports franchises. And we aren’t going to paint a picture of Atlanta based on an out-of-towner’s gross miscalculation that the city is a cultureless void of white collar migrants and no local identity just because you’re scared of humidity and trap music. But there is a fantastic aquarium, you should try to visit that if you get a chance.

28-26: 2nd and Goal, James White 1-yard touchdown run

I shouldn’t care, but it’s hard to ignore that certain fan bases’ misery earns them some kind of certification for national acceptance. For instance, we pause to reflect on the Buffalo Bills losing four consecutive Super Bowls. Woe is the long winter of that city’s Loyal. True. Fans.

Buffalo’s is an “existential pain” and not a joke, because Buffalo is the kind of place a sports columnist can go 20 inches to nowhere with tripe about the hope inside of workaday Springsteen characters roaming the cheap seats. You know, in the America that used to be great, except America actually sucked as much then too, which is why all those people moved South to take jobs.

Now -- If you’re the Houston Oilers, lol, you’re not a city yearning to rally around a championship: Oh no. You’re just some assholes who blew a 34-point postseason lead back when Matt Ryan was 7 years old.

If most people laugh at the idea of an Atlanta Falcons fan base, surely no one is going to respect how bitter a Falcons fan still feels after February 5. But knowing that actually helps, at least for me. The only thing worse than being made to feel like your fandom is somehow invalid in comparison to a Green Bay or Pittsburgh is humping a Super Bowl loss for sympathy points from media and other fans.

The NFL has enough problems without creating its own Cubs fans.

28-20: Two point conversion, James White 1-yard run

The Atlanta Falcons blew a 25-point lead in the Super Bowl. At some point in the proceeding seven months realizing that fact felt slightly less than devastating. That’s it. That’s all the misery you’ll get from me.

As a fan I have chosen to survive this, and not out of some attempt at altruism. Nah. I’m still here, still signed up for 16 games and God-knows-what-else-come-January because it’s all house money now, and forever: I’ve seen the absolute worst thing that could happen in a game to my team. Ever.

Not Eugene Robinson. Not Brett Favre. Not Bobby Petrino. Not Bad Newz Kennels. Not marrying into a Saints family. Not getting my ass whipped by Washington fans on a school bus in Virginia in 1992 for wearing my team’s Starter jacket.

Imagine knowing that your fandom has found absolute bottom. Imagine knowing nothing else can hurt you as much as it already has.

28-18: 2nd and 2, Tom Brady touchdown pass to Danny Amendola

This might actually be the most watchable, most enjoyable Falcons team in the history of the franchise. And in 51 years that’s not as bold a statement as it should be, so it’s even that much more enticing to watch.

A few months ago a college head coach described Dan Quinn’s Seattle-Atlanta defense to me: “I mean, don’t write it like this because it’s not appropriate anymore, but we love it because they can trick you just enough put a ball carrier out in space to flat knock you the fuck out. On purpose.”

I know my silent admiration for that quote is the root of what might end the violent sport of football entirely, but I am a weak person who loses moral calibration every time Keanu Neal tattoos someone.

Go back and watch that Seattle Super Bowl over Denver. If you don’t like defense, if you were weaned on Steve Spurrier or Bill Walsh, go watch that game again. Watch the things a defense can do when it wants to be fluid and graceful and not the 1985 Bears.

In the space between talking about New England, our fan base has managed to develop excitement about the young players designed to overcome the fourth-quarter evaporation that allowed* the Patriot comeback.

(*The preceding statement, however tacitly, technically acknowledges that Super Bowl 51 was not the entire fault of former offensive coordinator Kyle Shanahan. However, it is still the unwavering belief of this writer that Mr. Shanahan should at some point in the near future go fuck himself forever.)

28-12: 4th and Goal, Stephen Gostkowski 33 Yd Field Goal

Julio Jones glides just off the ground. All the time: He even glides when he’s run blocking, when he went in motion in the damn backfield to pull safeties away from a touchdown run by Devonta Freeman in the Super Bowl.

Julio Jones is a 6’3, 220-pound, living action verb whose default setting is “General Lee, midair” and sometimes when I’m having a bad day I watch this play on repeat, because ahahahahahahaha there’s no league policy against using a Kaiju at wideout:

When I watch that clip it occurs to me that my fixation on winning a Super Bowl might cause me to miss the joy of watching what will almost certainly be one of the genuinely fun NFL offenses of the last decade.

Some people ruin their fandom trying to sort their quarterbacks or defenses in the pantheon of greatness. My failing has always been the reduction of every single moment to a binary: Championship / No Championship. That’s always been it. As a fan I have never stopped to appreciate the single moments of satisfaction along the way.

28-9: 2nd and Goal, Tom Brady touchdown pass to James White

I love that Deion Sanders is still the greatest cornerback in history, even if he went to San Francisco. I love Jerry Glanville. I love the Grits Blitz. I love “Big Ben Right.” I love that Michael Vick ran 46 yards for a touchdown in overtime and scared the ever-loving shit out of White America for a decade. Hell, I still love Michael Vick, and I adopted a pit bull and named it after Matt Ryan. I love breaking Minnesota’s soul in 1998 to repay the Twins in 1991. I love Dan Reeves. I love MC Hammer. I love the “Dirty Bird.” None of these things, built over 36 years of my life, were context for what happened vs. New England.

If you met a Falcons fan in a sports bar tomorrow and you couldn’t rile them about the Super Bowl and they still expressed genuine excitement for the 2017 season, you would be terrified of what would be an obvious sociopath. This is the kind of fan I have to be now to keep going. The guy you don’t want to fight in that sports bar because you know they wouldn’t just swing a few times, they’d bite you in the face.

I will bite you in the face. At no point in this Godforsaken experience of losing a 25-point lead in the Super Bowl have I stopped loving the things about this lampooned, derided sports team that makes a grown man dry heave in anger.

If that’s true, if Super Bowl 51 can’t separate me from this stupid team, then I will surely die with them. Because nothing can be worse.

I seriously think we’re going to win the Super Bowl this year.

28-3

[facesofmonash-blog]

Meet Your Counsellors: Lesley Freeman

Cassie Spry, one of our Mental Health Champions, has been talking with some of the support staff at Monash University to try and get to know them and test her theory that they’re not actually blood-sucking vampires, but are nice, cool individuals who want to improve the lives of those at Monash.

Take a look at the third conversation, with Monash psychologist Dr Lesley Freeman, and keep watching this page to see if Monash is supported by deadly haemovores or helpful counsellors!

Link: https://facesofmonash.tumblr.com

Stay tuned each week in Semester 2 for #MeetYourCounsellors every Wednesday and #FacesofMonash every Friday!

For more information about the counselling services offered at Monash University, please visit http://www.monash.edu/health/counselling

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The other day, I spoke with Dr Lesley Freeman DPsych, a psychologist at Monash University Clayton campus.

Why did you decide to become a psychologist?

It’s an interesting question because I almost don’t know. This was late in life. I went to uni when I was 19; having done science at school, I decided to do arts at uni. One of my subjects was psychology - I completely failed, got kicked out. I spent the next 20 years in the workforce and at some point went: ‘it’s time to get back in the rat race’. I had been working in a sheltered workshop with adults with a mixture of physical, intellectual and psychiatric disabilities. And it was that that just firmed up in my mind that that was the direction that I wanted to go. This has been really my only workplace, I’ve been here for 17 years.

How long have you been a psychologist?

20 years since I was a probationary [psychologist]; fully registered in 2002 when I finished my doctorate.

What’s the best thing you do for your own mental health?

Arty stuff.  I have an artistic streak. Whether I’m talented or not doesn’t matter, but I just have to do stuff. I walk - I have a dog, so I take my dog down the beach for a walk. Obviously, I spend time with friends. I relax with TV and crappy reality shows. I try so hard not to get addicted, then I do.

Do you have a favourite reality show?

Actually yes, ‘So You Think You Can Dance’. But of course that’s not on very often and the Australian one is cancelled, so I’m waiting for this year’s American version.

What personality traits do you value the most in yourself?

Probably courage, loyalty, determination. I say courage because I come from a family with a lot of depression and anxiety. I suffered a lot of anxiety in my life, I’ve had to learn to manage it, and it takes courage to do that. While I wish I didn’t have to, it would be nice not to be anxious, if that’s the hand you’re dealt, then you have to deal with it. So I’m grateful that I can, not always, but a lot of the time, still do the things I want to do. And openness. I think open-mindedness is incredibly important too.

What are three interesting facts about you?

I collect dragons. There are some next to you; they’re just a couple of tiny ones, but I’ve got quite a lot at home. I’m not actually wearing any of my rings today, but from rings and jewellery to a ceramic head that’s just beautiful. Don’t ask me why, I don’t quite know, but I’ve been doing it for about 20 years. So when I go on holiday [I buy some] - so I’ve got one from Prague, one from Wales.

I sing. I was classically trained when I was young. So when I got kicked out of uni, what happened was that my parents had been involved in the local theatre company, so I got involved. I was told I had a voice and I should get it trained, so I did. I ended up doing a lot of non-professional theatre for about 16/17 years. I lost my voice; couldn’t sing, so for 26 years I did nothing. And that’s part of the reason why I came back to study. Then about four years ago, I decided I wanted to see if I could still do it. And I can, and I do. So I just do about one show a year these days.

I recently swam with a whale shark. In Ningaloo Reef in Western Australia. I’ve been on holiday. I did a trip from Perth to Darwin. One of the optional things you could do is go out for a day and see if you can find some whale sharks, and if you did, swim with them.

What’s the last adventure you went on?

That was it, swimming with a whale shark - well, actually the whole trip was an adventure. Because I suffer from anxiety, travelling has always been a little bit hard for me and I didn’t travel much until 11 years ago - that was my first trip, which was Alice Springs to Darwin in a campervan. It took me three or four years to think about this trip and then eventually go: just do it, just book this trip and go and do it. Perth to Darwin on a coach trip, and particularly the swimming with a whale shark was the adventure. Lots of people go out and try and do this and can’t find a whale shark, so they don’t get to do it. So we were very lucky.

What are the weirdest foods you’ve tried?

There’s probably only one, and that would be witchetty grubs. They were okay. They [tasted] a bit nutty. I’ve eaten snails in France, but nothing else that’s really weird.

What AFL team do you follow?

Essendon. I think because my long-term boyfriend supported Essendon. Up until then, I’d pretty much been an AFL hater. I was born in England. My dad was a rugby umpire, even though my dad wasn’t sporty - he was completely unco[ordinated], but he loved sport and he umpired. Both parents liked rugby and soccer. I can’t bare soccer now, and I’ve completely embraced AFL. Essedon was just sort of the default option, and I’ve stuck with them even though I ditched that relationship. It’s been really sad the last couple of years with the drugs issue. … But it’s nice to see them starting to bounce back.

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It was incredible meeting Lesley. She has had so many incredible experiences in her life, and is so friendly and genuine. I’ve also been talking to some other Monash psychologists, and it turns out all of them are really nice!

If you need any counselling services, do not hesitate to drop-in or book an appointment with one of the kind Monash counsellors. You can make an appointment on 9905 3020.

If there is an emergency, please call 000 or Lifeline on 13 11 14.

[racingtoaredlight]

The official RTARL 2017 college football preview issue, vol. 5: Mountain West Conference

If you are unfamiliar with Lead Belly and want to learn about the history of music transitioning from performed folk songs to recorded pop songs you should do yourself a favor and check out one of the myriad “Greatest Leadbelly Songs!” albums. The recording are mostly primitive single mic deals where you can either hear the words or the guitar/accordion clearly but you’ll recognize a lot of the songs and maybe understand how unoriginal even the best of musicians usually are. How does that relate to college football previews? Anyway, here are the other previews that have already been done (and here’s the explainer):

CUSA

Sun Belt

FBS Independents

MAC

The MWC is one of my favorite conferences to watch. The talent level is mostly pretty bad but the uniforms are cool, the playcalling is wild, and the timing is great. All sports should start after 10pm East Coast time just to fuck with people.

MOUNTAIN DIVISION

BOISE STATE

Boise is the default favorite to win the MWC every year and this is a year. They’ve got some potential road losses and I can talk myself into UVA beating them on the blue turf but even if they completely fall apart this year you still don’t look like an idiot picking Boise to win this conference. I’m a big Brett Rypien believer.

AIR FORCE

At Michigan seems like an automatic loss but I don’t think anything else really is. They’ve got to go to Annapolis to play Navy but they get Army at home so it’s not crazy to think they win the Commander-in-Chief Trophy and the MWC this year. I don’t expect it but it isn’t crazy. Their star on offense is a RB named TImothy McVey, which makes me feel just a little bit uncomfortable since his parents chose that name after the Oklahoma City bombing had happened.

COLORADO STATE

I adopted Colorado State during Jim McElwain’s tenure when Rashard Higgins was there and I got the impression McElwain was an offensive genius and Higgins was a future star. Now that both have moved up a level in competition I don’t feel great about that. This year’s CSU team is supposed to be on the same level as Boise and SDSU because they’ve got their QB and basically all of their skill players back. They’re in a brand spanking new on campus stadium this year so maybe it’s a good time to make that leap to playing in the conference championship game. I’m not a big Mike Bob fan so I think they’ll mess it up somehow.

WYOMING

Wyoming is in a funny position where they’re going to get the most scrutiny of any team in the MWC this year but they aren’t supposed to be any good. Can a QB prospect really be the #1 overall pick if he can’t elevate his team in an also-ran conference like this? Wyoming is supposed to be fifth in their own division and yet Josh Allen is getting hype as the best player in the 2018 draft. It’s a little bit odd. His arm is really strong and the team was great (in context) last year but lost almost everybody other than him.

NEW MEXICO

I’m not gonna kid myself by writing a bunch of words about the Lobos. I know what you’re here for:

UTAH STATE

If Boise State is the default champion of the MWC, Utah State is the default last place team. They’ve got a new OC that was good enough to make Blaine Gabbert seem like a 1st round QB a few years back and the QB is actually pretty good so I don’t know why I’m following groupthink here and burying USU at the bottom of their division.

WEST DIVISION

SAN DIEGO STATE

They lose the all-time leading D1-A rusher* from last year’s team but his backup might honestly be a better pro prospect. Rashaad Penny is bigger than Donnell Pumphrey (most people are) and went over 1,000 as the backup last year. The offensive line is turning over four starters but Rocky Long is nothing if he can’t coach up a run game.

UNLV

It would take a lot of strange occurrences to keep SDSU out of the conference championship game. The rest of this division is kind of crummy. UNLV mostly sucked last year but they’ve got a big name (for UNLV, anyway) freshman QB starting for them now after redshirting last year. Is Armani Rogers actually good? Mike Leach wanted him so maybe. As far as football goes I can’t imagine why a kid would choose UNLV right now over Washington State but Rogers is from L.A. so maybe he thinks of Las Vegas as a far outlying suburb.

NEVADA

Good bye Pistol offense, hello Air Raid, Jr. Hal Mumme’s son takes over this season as the head coach and Nevada is scrapping the offense that made the program a weird object of fascination for pro teams a few years ago. As far as I can tell Matt Mumme employs the same offensive style as his father and he’s got a former Bama recruit as the presumptive QB so maybe Nevada can be interesting again.

HAWAII

This is where things take a turn for the worse in the West Division. Hawaii isn’t good at all. If I recall correctly the NCAA took away the option to add a 13th game for teams that travel to Hawaii which was one of my favorite stupid quirks in college football but nobody was using it anyway. Most Hawaii games are on PPV only and somebody explained to me last year that Hawaiians mostly pirate live broadcasts of the Rainbow Warriors. The only thing this team has going for it is that opponents might be worn out from traveling to play them and that their games happen at midnight on the West Coast but still have sunlight. Oh, and they have linebacker Jahlani Tavai who racks up TFLs and might be big enough to play in the NFL as an EDGE/tweener even though he’s not super fast.

SAN JOSE STATE

Some tech bro is gonna take an interest in this program at some point and start buying recruits. I’m sorry, they’re going to disrupt the recruiting service industry and steer 5-stars to SJSU for the good of society. Until then we’ll just all have to be content with a cool color scheme but not always great uniforms.

FRESNO STATE

Jeff Tedford is back! It still feels odd to me to think of Fresno State as the dregs of this conference but, again, Jeff Tedford is back. That’s unfair but I dislike him and don’t trust him to turn things back to what they were overnight. Last year’s Fresno team was a disaster on offense, ranking in the bottom 10 teams in the country. Obviously Tedford should help with that but there’s not a ton of talent that showed up with him.

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CHAMPION: Boise State

OFFENSIVE PLAYER OF THE YEAR: Rashaad Penny, RB, San Diego State

DEFENSIVE PLAYER OF THE YEAR: Jahlani Tavai, LB,Hawaii

WATCHABILITY ADVICE: MWC football is ur-degenerate ball. This is the best shit for junkies because it comes on late at night and features a nice variety of schemes on offense and defense. Mostly the teams are well-coached but talent deficient so it looks good even if you have to know in the back of your mind that only a handful of guys in the conference have a real shot at starting on Sundays.

* Technically - if you take out postseason carries he’s fourth behind three guys who played before bowl stats counted, one of whom predates conference championship games.

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[ducks-love-swamps]

ALLLLLLLLLL

First off, Fuck you. 1: Full nameMatthew Gene Langford2: Age21 holy fuck3: 3 FearsHeights, Aliens, Loneliness 4: 3 things I loveDiner food, Guns, Coffee5: 4 turns onShort hair, Femininity, Machine gun fire, aggressive sexuality6: 4 turns offObliviousness, Politicians, People who are Obtuse, Prius'es 7: My best friendShawn8: Sexual orientationStraight until otherwise noted9: My best first dateNothing comes to mind10: How tall am I6 foot even11: What do I missThey know.12: What time were I bornIdk13: Favourite colorYellow14: Do I have a crushI suppose so15: Favourite quote"Don't quote me boy cuz' I ain't said shit" - Easy E16: Favourite placeThe Desert 17: Favourite foodDiner18: Do I use sarcasmNo, Neeeever19: What am I listening to right nowAesop Rock, None Shall Pass20: First thing I notice in new personEyes21: Shoe size9.522: Eye colorBrown23: Hair colorBrown24: Favourite style of clothingHawaiian Shirts 25: Ever done a prank call?Yep27: Meaning behind my URLI'm Matthew, I like to punch things28: Favourite movieHardcore Henry29: Favourite songPapa don't take no mess by James Brown30: Favourite bandFuck you31: How I feel right nowgood32: Someone I loveI love my dad he the real OG33: My current relationship statusSingle34: My relationship with my parentsRad with my dad, I haven't seen my mom in a couple years35: Favourite holidayHalloween36: Tattoos and piercing i haveI have my spetum pierced37: Tattoos and piercing i wantI want a Chinese food carton on my leg, A nuclear pinup girl on my shoulder, a realistic heart on my chest, the WAFFLE HOUSE logo on my leg, Three birds on my leg38: The reason I joined TumblrTwo ex's ago had one so i joined 39: Do I and my last ex hate each other?Nah, we good friends40: Do I ever get “good morning” or “good night ” texts?sometimes41: Have I ever kissed the last person you texted?I believe so?42: When did I last hold hands?Today I guess43: How long does it take me to get ready in the morning?I roll out of bed and leave44: Have You shaved your legs in the past three days?Nope45: Where am I right now?Home46: If I were drunk & can’t stand, who’s taking care of me?My own self47: Do I like my music loud or at a reasonable level?loud enough to hear all the recorded parts48: Do I live with my Mom and Dad?just my dad49: Am I excited for anything?GUN SAFE AT THE END OF THE MONTH50: Do I have someone of the opposite sex I can tell everything to?Mhmm, One person51: How often do I wear a fake smile?Never, if you piss me off I'll let you know52: When was the last time I hugged someone?Todayyy53: What if the last person I kissed was kissing someone else right in front of me?They do im sure54: Is there anyone I trust even though I should not?Nah55: What is something I disliked about today?I didn't shoot a gun56: If I could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be?I'd wanna see Shawn57: What do I think about most?Guns58: What’s my strangest talent?I can suck my nose together59: Do I have any strange phobias?Not really60: Do I prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it?Behind, none of my friends can film for shit61: What was the last lie I told?That none of my friends can film for shit62: Do I perfer talking on the phone or video chatting online?Videoooo63: Do I believe in ghosts? How about aliens?Nope and nope 64: Do I believe in magic?In a young girls heart?65: Do I believe in luck?Yes66: What's the weather like right now?Dark and cold67: What was the last book I've read?the anarchist red book of explosives and demolitions68: Do I like the smell of gasoline?Love it69: Do I have any nicknames?Not really70: What was the worst injury I've ever had?My eyes have bruises 71: Do I spend money or save it?Save dat money 72: Can I touch my nose with a tounge?no73: Is there anything pink in 10 feets from me?Yes74: Favourite animal?BEARS75: What was I doing last night at 12 AM?Sleeping76: What do I think is Satan’s last name is?Satan77: What’s a song that always makes me happy when I hear it?Curtis Mayfield - Diamond in the Back78: How can you win my heart?Show effort79: What would I want to be written on my tombstone?My name80: What is my favorite word?Dig, as in "I dig it"81: My top 5 blogs on tumblrIdk man, you all are good82: If the whole world were listening to me right now, what would I say?Butts83: Do I have any relatives in jail?Not that I know of, But I know of many who probably should be84: I accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what’s even cooler is that they endow me with the super-power of my choice! What is that power?Easy, Flashlight eyes85: What would be a question I’d be afraid to tell the truth on?This one.86: What is my current desktop picture?Some default highway art on Vista87: Had sex?Yep88: Bought condoms?Nope89: Gotten pregnant?Multiple scares90: Failed a class?Yep91: Kissed a boy?yep92: Kissed a girl?yep93: Have I ever kissed somebody in the rain?yep94: Had job?yep95: Left the house without my wallet?nope96: Bullied someone on the internet?nope97: Had sex in public?oral98: Played on a sports team?yep99: Smoked weed?nope100: Did drugs?nope101: Smoked cigarettes?nope102: Drank alcohol?yes103: Am I a vegetarian/vegan?nope104: Been overweight?always105: Been underweight?never106: Been to a wedding?yes107: Been on the computer for 5 hours straight?sometimes108: Watched TV for 5 hours straight?never109: Been outside my home country?yep110: Gotten my heart broken?yep111: Been to a professional sports game?nope112: Broken a bone?nope113: Cut myself?on accident114: Been to prom?nope115: Been in airplane?yes116: Fly by helicopter?nope117: What concerts have I been to?good ones118: Had a crush on someone of the same sex?nope119: Learned another language?nope120: Wore make up?yep121: Lost my virginity before I was 18?yes122: Had oral sex?yes123: Dyed my hair?nope124: Voted in a presidential election?yes125: Rode in an ambulance?nope126: Had a surgery?nope127: Met someone famous?nope128: Stalked someone on a social network?nope129: Peed outside?yes130: Been fishing?yep131: Helped with charity?yep132: Been rejected by a crush?yep133: Broken a mirror?yep134: What do I want for birthday?I don't really celebrate it135: How many kids do I want and what will be their names?I either want 2 or 20. all of them named Matthew136: Was I named after anyone?My middle name is my grandpa's137: Do I like my handwriting?God no138: What was my favourite toy as a child?GI Joe Action Figure139: Favourite Tv Show?The News140: Where do I want to live when older?deep in the woods141: Play any musical instrument?Guitar, Bass, Sax142: One of my scars, how did I get it?Salt and Ice chemical burn143: Favourite pizza toping?Pineapple144: Am I afraid of the dark?Nope145: Am I afraid of heights?yep146: Have I ever got caught sneaking out or doing anything bad?Nope147: Have I ever tried my hardest and then gotten disappointed in the end?Yep148: What I'm really bad atDrawing149: What my greatest achievments areI drove cross country by myself for no reason at all150: The meanest thing somebody has ever said to me151: What I'd do if I won in a lotteryRetire152: What do I like about myselfI'm pretty funny153: My closest Tumblr friendEh, I don't talk to most of you154: Something I fantasise aboutMachine gun fire

[flauntpage]

DGB Grab Bag: Penguins Controversy, New Stats Galore, and a Terrible Hype Vid

Three Stars of Comedy

The third star: Whatever this is. The KHL is weird, man.

The second star: Angry (former) Olympians. Passive-aggressive hockey stars are my favorite hockey stars.

The first star: Jack Eichel gets some pointers. Yeah, it's these guys again. Honestly, it was kind of slim pickings this week and I didn't feel like seeing who the Golden Knights' Twitter was murdering this week, so let's just go with this.

Outrage of the Week

The issue: On Sunday morning, as the sports world reacted to President Donald Trump attacking Steph Curry and the Warriors while urging NFL owners to fire "son of a bitch" players for protesting, the Penguins announced that they would still be making the White House visit.

The outrage: You have very strong feelings about whether they should go or not.

Is it justified: There have been plenty of takes about the issue—like this and this and this—and you've probably read them all. Or you haven't read any, because you're in the "stick to sports" camp, in which case you've already scrolled past this section. I have my views on Donald Trump and what's left of the political discourse in the United States right now, and if you care about them then you're free to ask. But you probably don't. You're here for hockey talk and jokes and YouTube clips of awkwardly lip-synching players. I get it. Ideally, we could skip the politics altogether. Except that, thanks to the Penguins, doing that this week would also mean skipping the biggest story in the league.

It's hard not to have at least a little sympathy for the team here. They know what a trip to the White House means these days, and they realize that by going they'll be used as a prop in smiling photo ops with a president many see as an embarrassment. They also understand that by not going, they'd be making a statement that would get them sucked into the never-ending culture wars, applauded by the left for a few days and then forgotten while the right harbors a grudge forever. They tried to find a middle ground, but there isn't one. It's a yes-or-no question, and so the team defaulted to doing what every other team before them has done. But right now, the things we always used to do don't feel like they matter much anymore.

The Penguins didn't ask for any of this, and it's fair to assume that they're profoundly uncomfortable with the entire situation. That's how hockey people work. With few exceptions, they don't want to be front and center when it comes to politics because they don't want to be front and center for anything at all. Show up, do your job, mumble about getting pucks in deep, and go home. Hockey players barely want to be on ESPN, let alone CNN or Fox News.

So the Penguins were stuck, knowing they'd be attacked no matter what they said, and there didn't seem to be a right answer available to them. Except that there was.

What they should have said was nothing.

That's it. Just nothing at all. We didn't need to hear from the Pittsburgh Penguins on Sunday morning.

Yes, that would have meant ignoring questions they were no doubt already fielding from the media. Sure, it goes against the old P.R. rule about getting out ahead of the story instead of letting someone else control it for you. And yeah, it would have just delayed the inevitable for a few days, because eventually you're going to have to answer the question.

But there's a time and a place for that. And Sunday morning wasn't it.

All across the country, NFL players were getting ready to make a statement. They have been protesting racial inequality—not against the anthem, or the flag, or Trump, and certainly not for "unity," despite the league's best efforts to rebrand it that way. That's a topic that doesn't touch the NHL as much as it does other leagues, for obvious reasons, and that's a big part of why the Penguins' response bothered so many people. This wasn't their fight. They didn't need to be the kid in the front row, frantically waving his arm to make sure everyone knew he handed in the assignment.

The Penguins gave us a teachable moment on Sunday, and the lesson is this: Sometimes it's OK to let somebody else have the floor. Especially these days, if you see that somebody else is angry, or hurting, or asking for change, and they're willing to stand up—or take a knee—to make themselves heard, and you can't fully understand exactly why because maybe it's an issue that doesn't impact you in the same way it does them, then maybe you don't need to jump right into the conversation. You don't have to add your voice to the mix right away, and you certainly don't need to make it about you. Sometimes the best choice is to just step back and listen.

It's quite literally the least you can do. It's basic courtesy. And that's the test the Penguins failed on Sunday.

Obscure Former Player of the Week

A few weeks ago, we made a passing reference to Lee Fogolin being obscure. That seems like it should be enough to earn a guy Obscure Player honors, so here we are.

Fogolin was the Sabres' first-round pick, 11th overall, in 1974. That draft wasn't very good, and is probably best known for A) the Islanders setting themselves up for a dynasty by finding Clark Gillies and Bryan Trottier while the rest of the league basically found nobody at all, and B) the Sabres getting annoyed at how long it was taking and drafting a fictional player just to mess with everyone.

Still, Fogolin was a decent pick. The son of Original Six era defenseman Lee Fogolin Sr., he was a stay-at-home blue-liner in an era when that was still a valuable thing to be and could also play a bit of forward on the penalty kill. He cracked the Sabres lineup pretty much right away, and spent five seasons in Buffalo. While he scored only eight goals that entire time, he became a fan favorite with his defensive play and willingness to stick up for his teammates.

The Oilers claimed him in the 1979 quasi-expansion draft held when four WHA teams were absorbed into the league. He had some of his best years as an Oiler, including a 13-goal season in 1980-81, and was the team's captain until Wayne Gretzky took over the duties in 1983. Fogolin won two Cups as an Oiler and was picked as an All-Star by Edmonton coach Glen Sather in 1986, before being traded back to Buffalo at the 1987 deadline. He played the last few games of his career there before retiring.

Here's my favorite Lee Fogolin fact: In the 1970s, the Sabres gave out a Most Improved Player award, and Fogolin won it…twice. In a three-year span. That seems like it shouldn't be possible, but he took home the honors in 1976 and 1978. I don't know if he just regressed really badly in 1977 or if voters figured they'd stick with the familiar, but it's fair to say that not many NHL players can lay claim to being multi-time Most Improved Player winners.

The NHL Actually Got Something Right

On Wednesday, the NHL put out what at first glance seemed like a pretty boring press release: they'd added updated information dating back to 1917 to the stats section of their website.

This announcement didn't seem all that new; the league told us it was working on this back in 2015, and the full project had been going on for years before that. Previous rollouts were largely met with a shrug. This one seems to have been, too. The announcement of the offside review change being finalized, which came out 15 minutes later, overshadowed the stats announcement easily, and most of the reactions I saw were some variation on the same jokes about how poorly the league's stats site works in the first place.

That's fair—the site is still a mess. It's clunky and slow, and seems to have been put together by somebody who doesn't really understand what kind of information hockey fans would be looking for. Virtually nobody in the media seems to use it, which is why you always hear so much complaining when one of the amateur sites goes dark.

But take a closer look at this week's news, and it's clear that this is a big deal. The NHL didn't just revamp its stats, or get around to uploading information that was already available somewhere else. They literally just dropped a ton of new numbers on us, stuff that we've never seen before. They've updated and corrected the numbers on several players, giving us new tidbits like Wayne Gretzky now joining Bobby Orr and Larry Robinson as the only +100 players in league history. (For the last three decades, he'd been incorrectly listed at +98.) More important, they've now filled out the history of stats like shooting and save percentage that had been tracked in some form for years but weren't widely available.

This is huge. Until now, you couldn't look up Ken Dryden's save percentage on a site like Hockey-Reference. Now we have it on the NHL site. Mix in the detailed box scores for individual games and game logs for players, and this is a gold mine for stats geeks.

The site itself is still a pain to use, and it's hard not to hope that Hockey-Reference or whoever else just grabs all the data and drops it into their far more user-friendly interface. But even if that happens, the NHL deserves plenty of credit here. This couldn't have been a small project. And it's not one that's ever going to put any cash directly into the league's pocket.

But they did it anyway, because for once they seem to have remembered that there's value in making fans happy. It's a small thing in the grand scheme of things, but kudos to the league for making it happen.

Classic YouTube Clip Breakdown

The regular season is almost here, which is good news for just about everyone other than the Colorado Avalanche. On the heels of one of the worst seasons of the salary cap era, the Avs are expected to struggle again, and virtually nobody thinks they'll even get close to the playoff hunt. What's worse, they managed to somehow make the whole Matt Duchene situation even more volatile. A bad team, an unhappy star, and little in the way of hope. That's not a great package.

Could it get any worse? Yes. Yes it could. At least nobody is singing shirtless.

It's March 2014, and times are good in Colorado. After missing the playoffs for three straight years, the Avalanche are good again, and well on their way to what will turn out to be a 112-point season. New coach Patrick Roy has turned the team around, and all that losing is clearly a thing of the past. It feels like it's time for a song.

Wait, we're not ready yet. Gabriel Landeskog is still sleeping. Rest up, little cowboy, you've got a big day ahead of you.

We get a few more dramatic shots of players, including Nathan MacKinnon walking down the street and nodding. We can't hear what's being said to him, but it's safe to assume it's "Is this a terrible idea?"

We also get a look at Matt Duchene, who is WAY TOO CLOSE TO US RIGHT NOW. Seriously Matt, back up a few steps and try again. Is this how you ask Joe Sakic for a trade? Because if so, I think I might understand why he's not listening to you.

We're 30 seconds in and I already feel like I need a shower. Oh, cool, thanks Paul Stastny, perfect timing.

Oh look, Landeskog is awake. At, uh, 3 PM. He's either just had his game-day nap, or he's doing an impression of me in college.

I'll be honest, I spent a little too much time trying to figure out which player was lip-synching next to the big drum. That is, of course, the lead singer of Imagine Dragons, whose song this is. Apparently we're going to get a few shots from the real video, which is, believe it or not, even weirder than this version. Really. There's muppet cage-fighting and everything.

Meanwhile, we get Avalanche players lip-synching lyrics like "checking out on the prison bus" and "this is it, the apocalypse." Um, are we sure this video isn't from this year?

We get some shots of game action, mixed in with angry Paul, shirtless Gabe, and Matt Duchene's tonsils. I feel like MacKinnon got off easy in all this. All he has to do is stand on a bridge and look like he's thinking of jumping, which doesn't even really count as acting at this point.

"We'll paint it red, to fit right in." I'm guessing that "it" is Semyon Varlamov's goal light.

Can we just point out that Landeskog looks roughly 37 years old? Are we sure the NHL isn't a bad TV series about high school kids and they just cast a bunch of middle-aged actors to play Landeskog and Aaron Ekblad?

Hey Gabe, how are you feeling about the 2017-18 season?

We make it two minutes in before our first shot of Roy. Seriously, you couldn't have got a giant drum and let him beat on it for a while? You could put a Red Wing goalie's face on it and just let him do what comes naturally.

At 2:20 we get a quick cameo from George Parros. Hey George, congrats on the new job, do you have the power to retroactively suspend marketing departments?

We conclude with Landeskog turning to the camera and dramatically asking "Why not us?" The follow-up video, in which a bunch of shirtless analytics geeks lip-synch the words "because your success is driven by PDO and is completely unsustainable," did not prove as popular.

It won't shock you to learn that this video wasn't exactly well received; it was called "bizarre" and "dumb" and "the ickiest thing ever." To this day, the team hasn't been allowed to forget it.

Oh, and the 2013-14 Avalanche were upset in the first round by the Minnesota Wild. Stastny left as a free agent that summer, Roy quit on the team last summer, Duchene wants out, and they haven't been back to the playoffs since. At this point, the whole franchise seems like it's...contaminated? Toxic? I feel like there's a better word here, but I can't quite find it. I'm going to strip down and go sing into my mirror until it comes to me.

Have a question, suggestion, old YouTube clip, or anything else you'd like to see included in this column? Email Sean at nhlgrabbag@gmail.com .

DGB Grab Bag: Penguins Controversy, New Stats Galore, and a Terrible Hype Vid published first on http://ift.tt/2pLTmlv