“I did not have sexual relations with that woman…Ms Lewinsky.”

Kaner!

Who doesn’t love Patrick Kane?  Nobody, that’s who.

An early 20′s millionaire, all-star, playboy, shithead?  Costanza would say: “that’s like discovering plutonium, by accident.”  Yeah, a pro sports team generally benefits when such a person occupies a roster spot.  While every little kid hockey player within 200 miles of Chicago knows Johnny Toews, every little kid, period, knows Patrick Kane.  All Kane needed to do was something Toews can’t.  Smile.  Just a quick little grin to communicate peace, love and understanding excuses Kaner from all sorts of ballyhoo.  That, and sick hockey skills.  The dude is universally loved by fans young and old because in addition to being a dazzling, world-class American hockey player, he looks like he’s having a good time.  The Superman bit at the All-Star game confirms it.  Drunken iPhone snaps confirm its confirmation.  Just a young, hyper-talented kid from Buffalo livin’ the dream.  I see no downside.

Apparently, the Tribune writers disagree.

It’s been easy to ignore Steve Rosenbloom’s two recent anti-Kane columns as nothing more than a lazy sports writer on a deadline.  One piece claimed that the Hawks need to explore trading Kane because he doesn’t score enough.  “Kane’s goal production doesn’t match his hype or salary. Steven Stamkos had 60 this season and 45 and 51 in past seasons.”  Awesome.  You Steve, should consider a GM position.  Kane had exactly one more point than Alex Ovechkin, and one less point than Pavel Datsyuk, Dan Sedin and Jarome Iginla.  Teemu Selanne and Brad Richards tied Kane with 66 regular-season points.  That’s some pretty shitty company, aye?  It went on to suggest that maybe he’s only still here because he plays such a big role in marketing the team: “It would be worth boycotting the team if the Hawks hockey operations department wanted to trade Kane but couldn’t because the marketing wonks have made him and Toews the faces of the franchise.”  The other piece he published was titled: Who might want Kane traded?  Only everyone.  Who might this everyone be?  Rocky Wirtz, John McDonough, Stan Bowman, Coach Q, and all of his teammates.  Soooo, the entire front office and player roster want Kane gone- this time because Kane was raging in Madison and posed drunk for cell phones.  Let us pause and reflect and appreciate America, for it is only here that one can secure gainful employment writing non-sensical editorials about sports games and personalities.  I certainly do not mean to express surprise over the opinions of wacko sports journalists.  That would be negligent.  I am a bit curious with the sports editor though.  Someone at the Trib had to read this drivel before Dr Rosenpenis pressed send.  Then, someone had to approve a piece from their lead sports-opinion-guy who says that the Chicago Blackhawks are a better ice hockey team without Kane.  So, off the ice he leads the team in all categories of personal misconduct.  On the ice, Kane tied for most playoff points with Toews, finished 2nd behind Hossa for regular season assists and 3rd for total points.  We know this, and we approve.    Frankly, I think he’s underachieving in the area of jackassery.  It ought to be any time now that you’ll see pictures of Kaner’s own genitalia on his Facebook page, just because fuck you.  That’s how he does it.

Now today, another Trib staffer published a column titled: Trading Kane would be irresponsible.  Irresponsible?  What in God’s name are these people on about?  “They have too much invested in Kane as a player to abandon their responsibility to him as a person” David Haugh writes.  Hmm.  He goes on: “never has Kane needed support from the Blackhawks more than he does now.  If the Hawks haven’t discussed sending Kane to alcohol counseling or haven’t approached Kane’s family about intervention, consider doing so now.”  Ha!  Good comedy, David Haugh.  Good comedy indeed.  The New Orleans Saints football team had a compensation package set up to reward players for breaking each other’s legs, now the Hawks have an obligation to put a 23 year-old through AA for getting pissed at a college party in the off-season?  Not only are pro athletes supposed to be model citizens, but pro sports teams should be parents or counselors too?  What the hell is going on in that newsroom?  What do athletes and teams need to do to convince the world of their inherent stupidity?  Warning labels?  Maybe every TV broadcast and stadium JumboTron needs to flash an advisory before the contest begins:  Warning!  Unethical, immature, over-paid liars funded by greedy white dudes are intended for your entertainment only.  Expect zero acts of good or acceptable behavior.  These individuals are not role models, but entertainers.  This advisory is brought to you by: Beer.  Enjoy the beer, and the game.

Haugh and Rosenbaum can do much better.  Go be reporters.  Use that credentialed access to snoop out an exclusive.  Someone in town has gotta be fighting dogs, betting on games or doing steroids.  Write it and we’ll read it, even if we couldn’t care less.  Using a credential to write an opinion piece from a desk in the Tribune newsroom is a bit of a waste, don’t you think?

Mann School crime ring busted

Everybody likes a good story, and there’s a doozy brewing in the Park that is Oak.

The short story is that my kid’s school shook down a children’s hospital by withholding funding until a hefty ransom was satisfied.  Wait, I might have my stories crossed here.  Yeah, actually, our school didn’t shake down a children’s hospital.  My bad.  We did, however, make the Illinois Standardized Achievement Test our bitch.  Yeah, that’s right.  The town has become outraged after an anonymous tip by a teacher blew the roof off of a massive conspiracy to defraud the people of the State of Illinois and the State and Federal government.  The goal of the plan was ambiguous at best, but did include a conscious effort to demonstrate to the townsfolk that Mann’s parents are no longer satisfied with only marginally higher scores than the rest of the schools.  We have, for many years, been working to post awkwardly higher test scores than the other buildings in town.  The plan called for a comprehensive tidying of answer sheets by way of erasing stray marks, treating the time element as an advisory, and something about stuck pages.  BOO-YAH!

You see, in our town, there are 8 elementary schools.  There’s Mann School, and 7 others that I can’t quite remember the names of.  The Mann boundaries have a relatively low percentage of Section 8 families in attendance, and sit in a geographically superior part of the Oak Park village foot-print.  It is here that has the village’s tallest trees, the brightest sun and the cleanest air and water.  We are also, remarkably, mosquito-free.  It is for these, and now other reasons, that these seven satellite schools resent MannNation.  The notion that Mann parents are generally as crazy as a load of shithouse rats only adds to the strife.  However, y’all don’t know the half of it.

As a over-bearing parent who not only drinks, but sometimes makes the Kool Aid a la Mann, I can assure you that the corruption goes far deeper than stray marks, extra minutes and something about stuck pages.  For openers, the erasers used in the cleansing of the holy documents were an unauthorized gift from ‘unidentified’ Supporters of the Program.  The whole operation (code-named: Mannifraudcation) was orchestrated using resources unavailable to the rest of the district, and funded with dirty PTO money from savings that would rival many private school endowments.  The differences between Mann and the rest only begin with secret cheating operations.  We also have jets, for whatever we might need jets for.  And corporate backing.  Our MannOnTheMoon space program has been a huge success, sending nearly 80% of our 4th and 5th graders into orbit.  Our 5th grade students also have the option of completing their last year at our sister campus in Tibet, while our 1st and 2nd graders learn about animals on an annual, 6-week safari that visits reserves in Zimbabwe, Tanzania and Uganda.

Truth of the matter is we, Mann families, feel like the rest of the district is riding our coat tails to a land most have simply not earned.  Discussions of breaking the Mann/D97 treaty have now shifted to round-the-clock preparations.  We just can’t be bothered to participate in a community that doesn’t share similar standards.  We firmly believe, if you’re not cheating, you’re not trying.  As we’ve all read, our efforts involved more than 20 pupils and a “handful” of teachers in two grades, while there was not a single instance of effort- ahem, cheating- in ANY of the other classrooms at the 7 other schools.  For those outside of the Mann boundaries who may be fundamentally opposed to our policies, thank your lucky stars that you don’t have the money, or the erasers to attempt such a caper.  Money is motivation for the evil, and here in Mannville, we’re throwing it at each other, literally.  Just the other day, my neighbor tossed a flaming bag of bills at my door as a nod to the lower-class folks who joke by doing the same using dog dung.  Occasionally, we kindle the Weber with cash and a few drops of sweat generated by pure hatred for average, working families.

While the rest of town can keep up the hate, and continue with silencing wit like: ‘no wonder Mann scores so high on the test’, the Mann family will get through this difficult time with the use of Flower Power (another Mann exclusive).  Until then, give us a break.  It is exhausting to be us (or to be on our staff).

Until D97 explains exactly why Mann Principal Nimisha Kumar was forced to resign, this family will continue to support our principal, while considering the actions of superintendent Al Roberts a gross over-reaction.

Holy Hossa!

900 NHL points.

Marian Hossa is badass.  To that, I have nothing to add.

Rubbin’, son, is racin’.

That’s a redneck-themed title right there.

Rubbin’ is most definitely not any type of racin’ that makes any sense to me.  Rubbin’ is what happens just before wreckin’, I reckon.  And NASCAR seems to have that move down.  I was drawn into the spectacle of the night-time running of the Daytona 500 Monday evening.  I’m not sure what the hell happened.  I was planning a nice evening in front of the TV watching shows designed for white women.  First stop, The Bachelor.  Holy shit.  Alright, let’s regroup.  Maybe it’s best to just settle into a celebrity gossip magazine and tune in a live sporting event for background?  Okay, NASCAR, you got 5 minutes to impress me.  I have to admit, the HD cameras, the lights and the pretty colors kept me watching for a solid two minutes.  Just as my brain was settling into this audio/visual surprise-party and the cars were finishing the first lap of the race, BAM!  Chaos, and a yellow flag.  1 lap, 1 rub, 1 wreck.  199 to go.

Six hours later, lots of concerns.  Why again can’t the vehicles function if it’s raining?  I still haven’t been offered a proper explanation on this.  Second issue: crashing.  Seems pretty silly, really.  A crash occurs…but it’s not just one asshole, it’s like, ten assholes.  Then, yellow flag goes out and they drive around behind a Toyota Camry that looks like a police car for 15 minutes.  It’s disruptive and not at all interesting- AND, it’s going to happen 10 more times.  Then, there’s Danica Patrick.  This continued celebration of mediocrity has got to stop.  I get the vagina thing.  I’m all for those.  However, are there no individuals in this vast land that have both a vagina and a motor racing talent?  Clearly, being pretty isn’t doing it.  After nearly 200 professional races, she has 1 win.  That’s a blind squirrel finding a nut if I’ve ever seen it.  I have zero doubt that women can drive racing cars as well as men, but not because Patrick has proved it.  I have a racing car and can confirm that my penis plays no part in piloting it.  In fairness, the balls are a bit more involved, but that’s mostly figurative.  Watching Danica Patrick get her ass beat every weekend at the race track can only falsely support any gender bias in racing.  The whole Danica Patrick thing leads me into my next issue.  I don’t like ads.  Clearly, the point of Danica Patrick is to sell me things, and I think NASCAR’s whole point is the same.  Obviously, right?  All pro sports are adverts.  However, an interesting game usually bridges the gaps between TV timeouts.  These games often include impressive skill, fitness and strategy.  With NASCAR, I don’t feel like I can get excited about the game, or even the science and technology being developed.  Those cars don’t seem very advanced to me, and the fact that they crash every five minutes confirms it.  Even though I like the sling-shot move and I appreciate the shake-and-bake procedure, I can’t really get a handle on how, why and when somebody wins.  Just when I think I’m getting it, a car slams into a wall and takes 11 innocent idiots with it.  Then the racing stops and they all go to an even more confined space in pit lane in where a guy with 10 gallons of fuel pumps 7 into the car and 3 onto the ground.  Then they crash into each other some more while trying to leave.  It’s a jumbled mess of stupidity.  If all of this wasn’t enough, Monday’s offering included a collision between a race car and a pick-up truck carrying a turbine-powered blow-dryer that resulted in an out-of-control jet-fuel fire.  That friends, is some serious hillbilly shit.

I still have an open mind, but for now I think it’s best to stick with watching F1.

I’ll take fire safety and needles for $200, Alex

Help yourself to a big, heaping plate of News You Couldn’t Possibly Use.

Since I was unable to spend the morning hours updating Wiki pages, I took in an extra-alarm fire on the 40-something hundred block of W. Who Cares Ave.  In this case, they say a woman who was squatting in an abandoned 3-story house had to jump from the top to escape a blaze that not only destroyed the building, but those on either side of it.  After a walk-around to snap whatever there was to snap, I ran into my news-photographer buddy in the back alley.  “Watch your step!”, he says.  With used needles everywhere, it was like spotting a rattlesnake.  I froze, wondering aloud: ‘what the hell are we doing here?’  Nobody needed to say: ‘taking pictures you won’t sell of a burning, abandoned drug house that nobody cares about.’  It just was.

I’ll take NHL trades for $100, Alex.

Interesting days ahead for hockey GMs, me thinks.

The kidding around is pretty much over.  National Hockey League rosters are going to get diced-up like a salami in the coming weeks as teams look to settle into the second half.  Fun stuff.  It’s the time of year when assholes like myself make wild, unsubstantiated claims and predictions about trades and cuts and panic buttons (very much like the last installment of senseless blather in this space where I offer no choice but to send Carcillo away).  Not surprising that while I think he’s nothing more than a common goon, Carcillo’s been getting support from several avenues.  Coach Q, TV-man Eddie O and various, random followers of the team with zero credentials have all touted Car Bomb’s contribution to the organization.  They claim he’s great in the locker room and that the skill-players know that he will have their back when the shit goes down.  He also has a radio show on WGN.  Awesome.  I still say now that he’s been suspended nearly 10 times in his NHL career, his usefulness is limited.  I think he used up his short-leash.  Next stop is a cage.  With that, I’ll shut it about Carcillo.  I’m even boring myself.

Moving on to bigger and better ridiculousness, the Hawks will be looking to use up the rest of the cap space they have as we head into the All-Star break.  All 5 million of it.  So, while I might be excited to see these young new guys get off on the right foot, I can only assume there are a few fellas that don’t share my appreciation for a Jimmy Hayes or a Andrew Shaw.  Michael Frolik is one.  Marcus Kruger and Sami Lepisto, two more.  Proof?  What proof?  I don’t need proof or proper sources to talk like an idiot.  I smell it.  Something big is about to go down, and with a shitload of luck, it’ll involve the Calgary Flames.  The Flames are old, they’ve lost their last 3, they are 6 points clear of the playoffs and they’re out of money because of Jerome Iginla.  Since 2+2=5, maybe Iginla should be a Blackhawk?  I’ve suggested far stupider.

The Hawks got in late last night after swallowing a bitter pill in Philly.  Most of the team had the morning skate off in order to rest for tonight’s game against the Avs.

A recovering M Kruger getting a little one-on-one time

Ray Emery, Sami Lepisto, big John Scott and Steve Montador were also on hand

A handful of Avs chose European-style football in the hallway over the morning skate, with minimal success.  Notice the bean stuck in the mechanicals overhead

Putting an edge on Gabriel Landeskog’s skates

Why do you want that beer so bad?  “Cause he’s thirsty, dummy.”  -Little Enos Burdette

Have a seat.

We had a good, hearty laugh in the hockey locker room today when one of the guys said: “I don’t know, looked good to me…”, in reference to the latest Carcillo debacle.  Yeah, looked good.  He almost killed the guy.  So close.

Oh, you missed this one, did you?  Here’s the long version:  Daniel Carcillo sucks at hockey and he played last night.

His “boarding” major cost 2 goals and hopefully 5 games.  Tom Gilbert’s injury status is unclear.  I think it’s safe to say, for about the 50th time, that this little experiment is over.  It was a dumb fucking idea to begin with, but I gave Bowman the benefit, as he seems smart.  That’s ova!  Eat the remainder of the $775,000 that this dude signed for and call it day.  Carcillo is way too risky at this point, with zero upside.  He has 2 goals and nine assists in 20-something games.  I don’t even care enough to look it up.  He also has two suspensions this year, and 5 in the last 3 years.  Hell, he missed the first two games of his Blackhawk career serving time from an incident in last season’s playoffs!

Little else needs to be said here.  As of this moment, this guy is ban from league play until the NHL can get a consult with some lawyers and maybe a psychiatrist.  Any less than 4 games is silly, but with the NHL knowing that Carcillo would have to sit after injuring himself anyway, I can see the league dropping a token message of 10 games.  It sounds like outrageous punishment, but he’s obviously a repeat-offender and injured anyway.  I say, jack it up.  Keep the suspensions coming.

Below is about how much hockey D Carcillo should be seeing over the next few weeks.