Thursday, September 30, 2010
Monday, September 27, 2010
Sunday, September 26, 2010
First I questioned Raiders coach Tom Cable for not trying to either get closer to the goal line or take a shot at the endzone before settling for a field goal. Jano had already missed two field goals earlier, granted one was a 58 yard attempt.
After cursing Jano I had to be honest about my team and not blame the game on our rock of ages kicker. The Raiders had as many chances to win this game as they did to lose it. It really should never have come down to a Jano kick anyway. But since it did and Jano didn't deliver, he's the goat. But as a whole the team was resilient and productive after every Cardinals score. The team rallied again behind quarterback Bruce Gradkowski. Bruuuuce is no superstar with a golden arm, but he's a leader who gets the job done.
These are not your 2009 Oakland Raiders. They are a group of men fighting for their coach and each other to the final gun. The Raiders lost a game today in heartbreaking fashion. But they earned as much losing this one as they did in winning last week's game against the Rams.
Yes CBass missed a game winner, so what. Why in the hell aren't we getting more yards with 55 seconds left in the game instead of running the clock down?
Thursday, September 23, 2010
To the Reader
Folly, depravity, greed, mortal sin
Invade our souls and rack our flesh; we feed
Our gentle guilt, gracious regrets, that breed
Like vermin glutting on foul beggars' skin.
Our sins are stubborn; our repentance, faint.
We take a handsome price for our confession,
Happy once more to wallow in transgression,
Thinking vile tears will cleanse us of all taint.
On evil's cushion poised, His Majesty,
Satan Thrice-Great, lulls our charmed soul, until
He turns to vapor what was once our will:
Rich ore, transmuted by his alchemy.
He holds the strings that move us, limb by limb!
We yield, enthralled, to things repugnant, base;
Each day, towards Hell, with slow, unhurried pace,
We sink, uncowed, through shadows, stinking, grim.
Like some lewd rake with his old worn-out whore,
Nibbling her suffering teats, we seize our sly
delight, that, like an orange—withered, dry—
We squeeze and press for juice that is no more.
Our brains teem with a race of Fiends, who frolic
thick as a million gut-worms; with each breath,
Our lungs drink deep, suck down a stream of Death—
Dim-lit—to low-moaned whimpers melancholic.
If poison, fire, blade, rape do not succeed
In sewing on that dull embroidery
Of our pathetic lives their artistry,
It's that our soul, alas, shrinks from the deed.
And yet, among the beasts and creatures all—
Panther, snake, scorpion, jackal, ape, hound, hawk—
Monsters that crawl, and shriek, and grunt, and squawk,
In our vice-filled menagerie's caterwaul,
One worse is there, fit to heap scorn upon—
More ugly, rank! Though noiseless, calm and still,
yet would he turn the earth to scraps and swill,
swallow it whole in one great, gaping yawn:
Ennui! That monster frail!—With eye wherein
A chance tear gleams, he dreams of gibbets, while
Smoking his hookah, with a dainty smile. . .
—You know him, reader,—hypocrite,—my twin!
-hypocrite, - my twin! (mon semblable,—mon frère!)http://www.press.uchicago.edu/Misc/Chicago/039250.html
In the second inning against the Chicago Cubs in Chicago, the Giants scored 9 runs. Here's how they did it:
Juan Uribe homer scores 2
Freddie Sanchez single scores 1
Buster Posey single scores 1
Ryan Dempster wild pitch scores 1
Juan Uribe grand slam scores 4
The 2nd inning saw 14 Giants come up to bat. Two batters were hit by pitch to reach first base. Giants starting pitcher Madison Bumgarner had two singles. But the inning without question belonged to Juan Uribe who blasted two homers for a total of six runs. He was the main reason for Chicago pulling Dempster, their starting pitcher.
The Giants went on to win the game 13-0 and leave Chicago winning 2 of 3 in the series. For the time they're tied for first place in the division as well as in the wild card race.
The Giants have 9 games left in the regular season, all are against NL west division opponents. All 9 games will play a role in deciding if the Giants advance to the playoffs or be remembered as just a nice 2010 cindefella story that ended when the four-horse carriage reverted back to mutts pulling a wheelbarrow. Time will tell. And the clock is 9 ticks away from 12 o'clock midnight.
Time and Pressure
Thrill and Agony
Victory and Defeat
Monday, September 20, 2010
The Bed Bug epidemic that's crept across the United States has infested a big name retail store in midtown Manhatten.
NikeTown's flagship store has closed its doors to customers to "proactively" deal with the bed bug infestation that has swarmed around New York City.
For those with firsthand bed bug experience you know the seemingly unwinnable battle with these Spartans of the insect world. For others who've never encountered the survivalist-natured pests, "PRAY" the critters never hitch a ride home with you or visitors to your home. The unforgivable results can be..............Biteful!
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Chants of Bruuuce were heard throughout the Oakland Coliseum as the Raiders seemed to get a jolt of life in all three phases of the game. The Special Teams kicked off to the Rams and the poor kick returner was leveled by a Raiders missile that drew oohs from the fans. It was the best hit on a kick returner I've seen from a Raider in quite some time. Highlight reel smackdown is what it was. I hope to find it and post it here. The hit was so jarring that the big screen replayed it about half a dozen times. It literally jarred the fans awake and got them more into the game. Here's a description from Silver & Black Report:
On the ensuing kick off, Oakland’s special teams would introduce themselves to the Ram’s returner Mardy Gilyard when Raider LB Quentin Groves absolutely BLASTED Gilyard after an 18 yard gain. To Gilyard’s credit, he held onto the ball, but stayed on the ground for a couple of minutes to recover from the “snot bubbler” just freshly dished out by Groves. The Raider home crowd got extremely loud after the hit heard around the world.
Chants of Bruuuce must've inspired the Defense as well, as they began playing with a killer passion and controlling the elusive Rams running back Stephen Jackson. When Bruccce did finally throw a four-yard touchdown to wide-receiver Louis Murphy, capping an 83-yard drive, the Coliseum went buZZerk. Here in only the first home game and second overall game of the season Bruuuce was being crowned a Raider Legend by both fans and players alike.
Coach Cable has a few days to think about how he'll handle the question of starting quarterback. Meanwhile, Raider Nation is rollicking in the first Raiders win of the 2010 season and feel with Bruuuce at the helm, this season will be much different than seasons past.
McFadden, Oak. ------30 carries for 145 yards
Peterson, Minn. ------28 carries for 145 yards
Snelling, Atl. ---------24 carries for 129 yards
McCoy, Phi. -----------16 carries for 120 yards
Hightower, Ari. ------11 carries for 115 yards
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Its the first time since May 6th that the Giants have the honor of leading their division this season. With 15 games left in the regular season, the Giants have positioned themselves beautifully for a final gallop into the playoffs. But that final lap on the track leading to the MLB playoffs will be full of challenging hurdles.
With a half game division lead over the San Diego Padres and a two and a half game lead over the Colorado Rockies, the Giants cannot afford to let up and look back to see how far ahead they are or how close beind someone might be.
The Giants no longer need watch the wild card race, they're currently in the Division Pennant drivers seat. Take us home Giants, end the torture, claim our pennant and just take us home.
Monday, September 13, 2010
Offensive line is definitely a concern for the Raiders. I would continue to harp on wide receivers play but quarterback Jason Campbell never got comfortable enough in the pocket to be consistent with getting them the ball.
I'm with the players, chalk it up as that one flat game of the season. Safety Michael Huff said it best, "We can't let one game beat us twice."
Up next are the (0-1) St. Louis Rams who come into a mad-as-hell Oakland Coliseum. I pity the Rams, for they will truly be a sacraficial lamb come Sunday.
In other news, the San Francisco Forty-Niner couldn't score a touchedown in their 31-6 TapOut against the Seattle Seahawks. Are the Seahawks that good or the whiners that bad?
Wait a minute, I think I can hear coach Singletary now: "I Want Whiners!"
Saturday, September 11, 2010
While choosing which Raiders jersey to wear for the 2010 NFL season opener, I came across my Cliff Branch jersey and was just overwhelmed with pride. Pride because not only am I a proud Silver & Black fan, but because I share that pride with players like #21 Cliff Branch.
As Raiders fans with a common love, our team, there's nothing like seeing up close and personal that same love shinging through a Raiders players eyes and hearing it in his speech. Cliff Branch played championship football with the Oakland Raiders. Years after retiring from football he still speaks of the Raiders with family love. Cliff wears the badge of "Once A Raider, Always A Raider" with pride. And if you ask me, he could still suit up and burn the average defensive back one on one.
Cliff, you will always be a part of the Oakland Raiders Hall of Fame!
Information about Cliff Branch from The Black Hole Symposium:
Cliff Branch was one of the greatest players in Raider history. Cliff struck fear into secondarys throughout the league during an outstanding 14-year career. The Raiders speedster finished his career as the NFL's postseason leader in receptions and yardage. This included 3 touchdowns in Oakland’s three Super Bowl victories. Cliff was a solid player who worked to become a complete receiver and wasn't the stereotypical speedster who cannot make a key grab. Branch had a big heart, a big mouth and a non-stop motor.
Branch graduated from the University of Colorado at Boulder in 1972 and spent his entire 14-year professional career with the Oakland/Los Angeles Raiders, winning 3 Super Bowl rings in Super Bowl XI, Super Bowl XV and Super Bowl XVIII. Branch caught 3 passes for 20 yards in Super Bowl XI, 5 passes for 62 yards and 2 touchdown in Super Bowl XV, and 6 passes for 94 yards and a touchdown in Super Bowl XVIII. Cliff was voted All-Pro 3 consecutive seasons (1974-1976) and had perhaps his finest season in 1976 catching 46 passes for 1,111 yards and 12 TDs, averaging an amazing 24.2 yards per catch. Branch was named to 4 consecutive Pro Bowls (1974-1977). In 1974, Branch led the National Football League in both receiving yards (1,092) and receiving touchdowns (13). Branch finished his 14 NFL seasons with 501 receptions for 8,685 yards and 67 touchdowns. He also rushed for 70 yards and returned 9 kickoffs for 191 yards.
Friday, September 10, 2010
Thursday, September 09, 2010
For those still struggling in their battle with alcohol, there is help and hope if you'll reach out or allow others to reach out to you. Life can be wonderful again, if you'll take that first step toward recovery. Contact: Alcoholic's Anonymous
Excerpt from Don Tracy's "The Hated One"
Waking up without a drink was the worst part of the nightmare. My watch showed me it was only a few minutes past midnight but in Lindsley there was no place to buy even a glass of beer after eleven. I got up off the damp bed and groped my way through the darkness to the window.
I sat in the old upholstered chair in my shorts, lit one of the cigarettes I'd gotten out of the machine downstairs and got ready to sweat it out. It was a good night for it; the temperature must have been at least eighty-five and the humidity was even worse.
I was in the Princess Hotel, down by the Seaboard station.
I'd come to the Princess after the air-conditioned Lindsley and the Floridian had regretted that all their rooms were occupied, booked solid for as far ahead as the eye could see.
I'd intended to nap for an hour or so to get my strength back, bathe, shave and drive to get some liquor.
I'd inteded to do all these things, but when a diesel freight's droning horn woke me it was pitch dark and I stripped off my sodden, smelly clothes and went back to sleep.
"Now I faced those terrible hours when every place a man can get a transfusion of life-giving alcohol is closed; when clocks tick thunderously as their hands stand still; when all the devils in Hell romp through a man's guts and along every nerve of his body there crawls a nonexistent bug.
I don't know what purpose would be served by describing those hours from a couple of minutes past midnight until the eight o'clock sun began blazing hot and vicious off the tin roof of the Seaboard freight depot below my window. Suffice it to say that it was rough, and what made it worse was the gradually shattering realization that when morning finally did arrive no bar or liquor store would open in Lindsley; I wouldn't be able to get the drink or the botttle that would take me off the rack until I somehow got over the county line.
Then as the hours passed came a new, frightening thought. Even if I did drive miles and find a saloon or a package store, I still couldn't drink. Not without surrendering my last hope of someday being able to look back and say: This one thing was good.
I'd gotten myself involved in the messy case of Coralee Preston by a trusting old woman who had aroused a wild hallucination in my boozy mind. I'd staggered into a situation that any sane man would have fled from. Now I was committed to go through with it against hopeless odds or run to some safe hole from which I could never emerge. Worst of all, if I ran I'd leave nothing for anybody to remember about Francis MacWhalen Coombs except this one last laughable failure, this final drunken posturing.
At some time during those early morning hours I irrevocably saddled myself with the responsibility of staying alive and sober enough to do my poor best to help my client, Hattie May's daughter, the scowling, impenitent Coralee, who'd told me to be sure to bring her filter cigarettes.
When it was light enough for me to dare to move about my room without blundering into deep shadows full of frightful menace, I went into the bathroom and showered.
Monday, September 06, 2010
It didn't matter that I was watching the Giants come-from-behind win over the Dodgers on the Crowne Plaza big screens with dance music blaring all around. Nor did I care that I startled some of the non-sports patrons from their appetizer meals. The homer which led to the 5-4 win was the culmination of a late rally by the Giants that consisted of four home runs. It was definitely one of the best wins of the season for the Giants and couldn't have come at a better time against a more hated foe.
Just another historic game in this Giants season. Meanwhile, the San Diego Padres halted their ten game losing streak with a 4-2 win over the Dodgers today, but the damage is done. Our San Francisco Giants are now only one game back of the Padres for the NL West division lead.
Everybody said it, fans, broadcasters and even players. The "can't lose" hot streaking San Diego Padres would hit a slump sooner or later. The slump has hit and September in the NL West will be a month of scoreboard watching and critical division matchups. The Colorado Rockies are still in the division picture at 4.5 games back. And we won't even begin to talk about the wild card.
The San Francisco Giants have proven that you can't count them out of any game. This magical season could carryover to the playoffs.
Saturday, September 04, 2010
Houshmandzadeh, who spent eight of his nine years in the NFL with the Cincinnati Bengals, caught 79 passes for 911 yards and 3 touchdowns last season for the Seahawks. That's more than any receiver on the Raiders has had probably since Jerry Rice.
I don't think Houshmandzadeh will bring back the days of Rice and Brown to the Raiders receiving corps, but I think he'd be a productive addition to this season's young group of Raiders receivers. And personally, I'd enjoy barking out the name HOOSH-MAN-ZADDAH at home games.
HOOSH is 32 years old and can still produce. You can't argue with experience, durability and production:
Hoosh could and should be A RAIDDDAH!
Friday, September 03, 2010
Floyd posted a ustream clip on-line which basically shows him talking smack about when he meets Manny Pacquiao and what he's going to do to him. The smack was full of what folks are calling racist tones and vulgar language.
Not sure what prompted Floyd to go on his rant but something has lit a fire under him that has him steaming to fight Pacquiao. The odd thing is he had his chance a few months back and walked away from signing the contract. Pacquiao is scheduled to fight Antonio Margarito on Nov. 13th in Dallas, Texas. So why is Floyd now trying to stir up things when he was willing to let things be back then?
Some people might call it the green-eyed monster; Jealousy! Most see it as Floyd just letting the money and fame go to his head and acting as if he's above the game.
Give me a champion with just a smidgen of class and decency and I'll sing his praises all through the sports world. Unfortunately, just when I was warming up my voice to sing-a-long to a "Pretty Boy Floyd" tune, the lyrics turned raunchy and rhythm lost its tempo.
Aint' nothing too pretty these days in following the career and antics of Floyd Mayweather.
Wednesday, September 01, 2010
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