Real Quick Though

People are ripping on Gregg Popovich right now because he rested his 4 highest scoring players tonight during a (nearly) meaningless regular-season game. They're mad at him basically because he sat his best players against one of the best teams in the league, the Miami Heat. From what I can gather, the rationale is that this was a nationally-televised game between two of the league's best teams, and the fans were robbed of their entertainment because it was basically the real Heat vs the fake Spurs.

This is bullshit.

Gregg Popovich can do whatever the hell he wants. He has one job: to win titles. He has no responsibilities to anyone except himself, his team, and Spurs fans. If he thinks that putting 5 limbless baby turtles on the floor to face the Heat would give him the best chance of winning a title down the road this season, he has every right to sign those amputee turtles up and send 'em out there. Whatever reason he sat his starters (age, fatigue, minor injuries), he does not have to explain himself to anyone and it's pretty shocking that the commissioner of the league, David Stern, has announced that there will be "severe" repercussions.

What Stern is doing by punishing Popovich is telling the world, straight up, that this league is more about entertaining as many fans as possible (aka making as much money as possible) than winning championships.

Again, bullshit.

Gronk Out

Rob Gronkowski had one of the best games of his very young and VERY promising career. He essentially had the tight end's version of a perfect game: 7 catches on 7 targets, 137 yards, two TDs. Then he broke his arm. Now he's out for the next 4-6 weeks (emphasis on the 6).

Upon hearing this news I had so many thoughts explode into my brain within milliseconds of each other that I felt the need to blog them in bullet format:

• WHAT THE F***!!!!!!????
• Hold on, he's Gronk, his bones are made of moose antlers and blue whale jaws. Those can't break.
• Can they?
• Just checked ESPN. Apparently they can. 
• F***!!!!!!!!
• My fantasy team has won four straight games. I'm in the middle of a late-season surge!! My second round pick cannot cannot CANNOT leave me like this!!! 
• That was selfish.
• Who cares, it's true. 
• Plus, that league's a $20 buy in and I'm cash-strapped. Goddammit. 
• Well, he IS Gronk, maybe he'll be back in 2-3 weeks instead of 4-6.
• Wait, how did that work out in the Super Bowl last year?
• Effing terrible.
•  At least Aaron Hernandez is coming back soon. 
• Hopefully.
• Hold on, how did he break his arm in the first place? Wasn't he killin' it the whole game?
• IT WAS WHILE HE WAS BLOCKING ON THE EXTRA POINT TO MAKE IT 59-24?????????
• HOLY GODFORSAKEN HOODED SWEATSHIRTS BILL BELICHICK WHAT ARE YOU DOING??
• Why. Why was your already legendary tight end blocking on a COMPLETELY meaningless extra point at the end of a shellackingly humongous blowout victory?
• Wait. Let's be calm (F*** CALM) - he blocks on every extra point. This was no different. 
• Still, injuries seem to happen in games like these. Speculating here, but when you're not playing at 100% effort, weird things happen. 
•  Whatever, we'll still score 40 points a game. 
• (Pouty little kid crying face): No more spikes? :(

The Official Video Game Controller Power Rankings

Pretty self-explanatory. Let's get into it.

Note: I'm not getting into systems that I never played, so this abomination

will thankfully not be discussed. Woof. Gives me the heebie-jeebies just lookin' at it.

So, from worst to first, here are the definitive video game controller power rankings.

Talkin' 'Bout My Generation

So it's been a while since I last posted, out of respect for Chuck. Didn't want to follow up the next day with a ranking of the ten hottest porn stars or something like that, I felt it would be disrespectful.

Having said that, I was raking leaves today and had a thought concerning the way we speak. "We" being our generation - the Millennials, Generation Y, Echo Boomers, whatever you wanna call them. Us. You get the picture.

Simply put, we've molested the English language.

Maybe we haven't full-blown raped it, but there's definitely been some unwanted verbal contact. I feel like this could be a recurring segment, so I'll stick to one word for this post. And that word is...

"Random"

I Googled "random." This seemed fitting.

The word "random" became a thing about nine or 10 years ago, sometime in middle school. I don't know what happened, but all of a sudden, according to my classmates, everything was "random." Webster's defines "random" as lacking a definite plan, course, or pattern and also relating to, having, or being elements or events with definite probability of occurrence. I'm sure at one time, "random" was only used in probability classes and when discussing your drunk uncle's plans for New Years Day.

Now, though, this word can basically mean anything. Often used negatively, "random" can mean "coincidental," as in: "Betch, we're wearing the same skirt, how randommmmm." It can also mean "sketchy," as in: "Check out that random dude passed out behind the pavilion." Sometimes, it's used correctly, but with an extraordinarily negative connotation, as in: "Yo, the cops randomly searched my car and found my weed... what the fuck!"

If you wanted to really go wild, you could say something like: "Betch, that random dude passed out behind the pavilion is randomly wearing the same skirt as you! Let's go see if he's got any weed."

This has been... Talkin' 'Bout My Generation

I Guess This is Growing Up

Two nights ago, Charlie Harris died. We graduated together from Scituate High in 2008. I didn't know Chuck as well as a lot of people did, and I hadn't seen him in a few years. Even still, Chuck Harris was one of the most memorable and outgoing kids that I ever met, and he will be truly missed.

My friend Cory and I still bust out Chuck's version of "Purple Haze," in which Chuck made up his own ridiculous lyrics while we were all in middle school guitar class together. For anyone who was in that class and remembers the lyrics, you can understand why I'm hesitant to put them down here. Chuck was truly a larger-than-life personality.

He was always the biggest dude in the class, and carried himself that way. He was loud, abrasive, and rude, as only the biggest clown in the class can be. He was also witty, streetwise, and oftentimes downright hilarious. Chuck and I ran in different circles, and I wouldn't call us friends in the true sense of the word, but he was one of those people who would always have a head nod and a "What's up, Vogel?" ready, whenever we happened to cross paths.

He was one of the most genuine people I have ever met. Even from afar, I could tell that he took no BS from anyone, and always said and did exactly what he meant. This is an exceedingly rare quality in someone who grows up in a town like Scituate, where the peer pressure is the way it is. Chuck was a magnaminous person, and he attracted attention and friends like honey draws bees.

Chuck Harris will be deeply missed. Of course, by his friends and loved ones. He has a son, also named Charlie, who will have to grow up without the lighthearted smile and goofy laughter of his father. But Chuck will be missed by everyone who knew him, as well. He was simply a legend, one of those people who everyone knew, and one of the few key people that sort of held our graduating class together in some way.

He was also a true Scituate townie. Chuck was one of the people that made me love our town as much as I do. I knew that Chuck would be there, working at the docks and drinking with his buddies and family at TK's, for as long as I wished to call this place home.

Sometime in the future, if I ever brought my family out to dinner at TK's, or for a walk along Front Street, and we saw a redheaded burly smiling giant of a man, I could say that I graduated high school with that dude. Watched him crush smaller kids on the football field. Laughed with him about his ridiculous antics in middle school. And he could have given me a head nod, and a "What up, Vogel?" And maybe even stopped and said hi to my kids.. And I would have said, as he walked away, that he was one of the legends of our town. A guy who always had a second for everyone, even if it was to give them a punch on the shoulder.

I didn't know Chuck Harris as well as a lot of people did. I understand that. But I guess I thought that he would always just be around, being his large and goofy self. I guess you're never ready when something like this happens, even to someone who you haven't seen in years.

I guess this is growing up.

Rest easy, Chuck.