SportSiths: The Trial of Roger Clemens

Roger Clemens, circa the Steroid Years

Nobody likes Roger Clemens. Nobody. He's reached a universal level of derision placing him on par with the likes of Barry Bonds, Lebron James, and, Katherine Heigl. And even though we here at SportSquee love to play devil's advocate, quite frankly, Clemens deserves the vitriol. Just to review his greatest hits, there was the time he threatened Hank Aaron, of all people; the callow jumping from team-to-team in search of a (hollow) World Series win; the time he tried to fight the angel Mike Piazza in the World Series; he was a Yankee; the Brett Favre-esque retiring and un-retiring; the revelation that he rubbed liniment on his genitals before games; the reputation as a headhunter; the troubled country singer-cum-concubine he started squiring when she was fifteen; and, of course, the steroids. Whether or not you see steroids as a scourge on America's pastime, there was something particularly tasteless about the brazen way Clemens (and Bonds) seemed to flaunt his use of the performance enhancer. If you'd already thought that Clemens was a surly jerk, the steroid use amplified his despicable image as much as it did his muscles. But Clemens is out of our hair now. He's out of baseball, probably living in retirement in some castle in South Florida, surrounded by his career hardware, trophy wife, and the crippling self-doubt of a once-touted talent in exile knowing he will never make the Hall of Fame for his sins. So long, Clemens. Sorry to know you.

Only, no.

Because Clemens is back in the headlines, on trial for...doing steroids? Or perjury? Or something. I'm not quite clear. But he's on trial. Your tax dollars are going towards the trial of Roger Clemens. Why isn't this just a baseball thing? Can't Bud Selig just sentence him to never being in the Hall of Fame and barring him from ever doing anything associated with professional baseball ever again or something? Because that would cost $0 tax dollars according to my calculation and it would get the point across. Yeah, Clemens ruined the purity of baseball and all that jazz. But is there anyone out there, even the most ardent Clemens-hater in the world, really crying out for justice in this matter? Can't we just forget about him and ignore him until he disappears? It worked for Paris Hilton. None of us acknowledge her existence any more and she's nothing but a pile of ash and melted viscose hair extensions somewhere in Malibu. I don't get why we're wasting this kind of time (and it's going to be a lot of time because everyone who has ever played baseball has been called to testify), money, and energy to sending this dude to jail for drugs that made his balls crawl up into his abdominal cavity and his fastball speed up by 10 mph. This is almost as dumb as when Plaxico Burress was sent to jail for nearly two years for shooting himself in the thigh. This is a waste. As much as we'd love to induct Roger Clemens into our official roster of SportSiths, this sham trial is going in instead.

Meanwhile, Casey Anthony is pondering what she's going to order at Red Robin on Saturday night.

A SportSquee Exclusive!: Our Interview with Roberto Luongo's Twin Brother

So the Canucks lost the Stanley Cup Finals last night. Some other, American team won, if you can believe it (the Braves?). Disappointment was felt all over British Columbia from Tim Horton's to Harvey's, and hundreds of Canadians took to the streets for revenge. What's being reported as a riot was probably more like a bunch of people saying "excuse me" to each other and trying to light their Sedin jerseys on fire using Labatt's as an accelerant. (Fun fact: Cindy Crosby the French Bulldog and I were on a walk last night and saw some girl in a Daniel Sedin jersey that she had cut so that it hung off her shoulder, Jennifer Beals-style, and then Cindy took a whiz that nearly ran into the girl's sandals--an ominous sign if there ever was one.) As three of you may remember, I was in the Coove for 5 weeks last year, and was present for the Canada-US Gold Medal game. And I was there when thousands of cheering Canadians poured into the streets like it was V-J Day and marched in an orderly line pausing only for an occasional jaunt up a telephone pole or to jeer the Americans and their lack of socialized healthcare. What I'm saying is, this whole thing is probably (hopefully) being blown out of proportion. But the Canadians are mad. They are furious. And they have one man to blame: Umberto Luongo. Observing a marked lack of hair grease in cutaway shots during last night's broadcast, we realized immediately, that Roberto Luongo was not in goal. It was none other than Roberto Luongo's twin brother Umberto Luongo. SportSquee's crack team of investigators has tracked down the man at the center of a nation's heartbreak to find out just what went wrong with the Canucks-Cubs game. Here is a transcript of our interview.

(Editor's note: I just looked at the footage of the riots and I had no idea things got that real. Hopefully none of SportSquee's readers or loved ones were injured or terrified. On another note, rioters, how could you just let Bettman get away like that? He slipped right through your fingers!)

SportSquee: Thank you for sitting down with us, Umberto. I'm sure you're pretty upset today.

Umberto Luongo: I feel great actually. Went to bikram this morning, had an Eco Bar, watched back-to-back episodes of I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant. It's been a pretty good day so far.

SS: Yes, but after losing the game that badly, surely you must be at least a little ashamed.

UL: Nah.

SS: But hockey is Canada's national sport. And you lost to the Bears. Isn't that important to you?

UL: I prefer soccer, actually.

SS: Ugh. You're one of those?

UL: Mind if I change the music and put on the Arcade Fire? The Arcade Fire is a band. They're pretty obscure, but I love them. I'm always listening to them and Magnetic Fields. That's another band.

SS: Everyone listens to those bands.

UL: I'm always going off the grid like that. I'm just unique, I guess. I just can't stand "pop" music.

SS: Oh lord.

UL: Let me just retie my docksiders... and now we can continue with the interview.

SS: So you can confirm that you are Roberto Luongo's twin brother?

UL: Actually we're triplets. We have another brother, Norberto.

SS: And what does he do?

UL: He is a gastroenterologist. And he did the Italian translation of Everybody Poops.

SS: That's pretty cool. What is it that you do?

UL: (sips espresso) I'm a freelance tattoo designer and I'm working on my own microbrew.

SS: Interesting. So why were you in goal last night in place of your brother?

UL: Bobby had a small personal problem and asked me to fill in. He didn't think it would take as long to resolve as it did, unfortunately.

SS: A personal problem?

UL: Indeed, a personal problem.

SS: Could you describe the personal problem?

UL: You know, all a hockey player has is his health. That's all I'll say.

SS: Was it diarrhea again?

UL: We don't have to get into specifics.

SS: It was diarrhea, wasn't it?

UL: I don't feel comfortable saying.

SS: So. it was diarrhea. Again.

UL: (adjusts fedora)

SS: What did he eat?

UL: Bobby takes excellent care of himself. He always eats healthy. He had Fiber One for breakfast, with three oranges and a couple spoonfuls of olive oil.

SS: Does he put the olive oil in his hair?

UL: No. Well, yes. In his hair and he swallows some, too.

SS: (emails the tip to Simon Gagne)

UL: Then he had a pint of blueberries, a bag of baby carrots, some jalapenos, sun-dried tomatoes, a handful of flax seeds, a chorizo sausage on a stick with McIlhenny's, ten cups of coffee and a bran muffin. The guy is a machine.

SS: And you said your other brother is a gastroenterologist?

UL: That's Norby!

SS: And he can't do anything to help him?

UL: Norby doesn't really watch hockey, either. But he's a big Formula One fan.

SS: But can't he help with Roberto's recurrent trots?

UL: Oh, I suppose. But I don't think Bobby's ever asked him.

SS: At what point did you realize you would be in goal for Game 7 of the Stanley Cup Finals?

UL: Bobby called me from his bathroom--we had to install a phone there years ago--and said that he was having problems and he may need me to swap in for a few minutes. I was like, sure, whatever. I bet this will inspire some really good song lyrics for my band. Yeah, I have a band. It's like a cross between the Decembrists and the Avett Brothers. Those are other obscure bands that only I listen to.

SS: Yeah, yeah. You're a real snowflake. You were saying?

UL: So I get in there and, did you know, in hockey, they fling pucks at you if you're standing in the little cage? It's just like football. I'm sorry, soccer. I forgot you're American.

SS: Were you scared?

UL: I wasn't scared, per se... I feel that fear is something they teach you in organized religion. That's something masses believe. But I listen to Belle and Sebastian, so I'm not like other people.

SS: So you weren't scared?

UL: Maybe a little. Maybe like I might die. Like I might die and never hear another LCD Soundsystem song again. They're a...

SS: They're a band, yes. So you were scared?

UL: I was scared. But I figured, if I stayed in the net and just moved out of the puck's way, I wouldn't get hurt. So that's what I tried to do.

SS: Interesting. So your brother didn't give you any tips before he sent you out there?

UL: Not really. He just told me to try not to crap my pants. But that wouldn't happen. I only eat bananas and white rice. Cheese, occasionally.

SS: You should have been the hockey player, huh?

UL: Yeah, but then people wouldn't be able to see my tattoos. They're Japanese characters. Very unique.

SS: Have you spoken to Roberto today?

UL: He called me on the shitter phone earlier, he sounded pretty messed up. And then I told him how the game went.

SS: Do you think he regrets having you substitute for him?

UL: Maybe. We didn't talk that long. I'm going over to his place now to bring him some Kombucha.

SS: I don't think that will help him, Umberto.

UL: I got this shirt at a thrift store, you know. I'm not actually a gas station attendant for Esso named Chet.

SS: We get it.

UL: Have you ever been to Brooklyn? It's this place in New York...

SS: Okay, I think that's all we need to hear. I think we're done here.

UL: Or Portland? It's this place in Oregon.

SS: Is there anything else you'd like to let the people know?

UL: Yes. I'm wearing my mom's old golf pants ironically.

SS: (rips off Umberto's fedora and steps on it)

RIP Grace the Norfolk Terrier (2000-2011)

I'm sorry that this is the first post back from our extended hiatus... but I wanted to reach out to all of Grace the Norfolk Terrier's friends and fans to let you know that our girl has moved on to a land where the baby carrots flow like water and there is an exquisite selection of furniture to sit under and plot revenge. It was very sudden and devastating, but she is no longer in pain, either from cancer or quietly tolerating the human beings around her. Grace was a wonderful dog/walking teddy bear and she will be missed terribly by those that knew her or read her biting commentary on SportSquee.

Grace the Norfolk Terrier is survived by her parents, sisters, several nieces and nephews, and her adopted dog-daughter Cindy Crosby the French Bulldog, who adored her dog-mom and will be very confused on visits to her grandparents' house. In lieu of flowers, please hug the dog nearest to you and offer him or her a baby carrot in celebration of Grace the Norfolk Terrier's life.

The Girls Guide to Football: Atlanta Falcons

Tony Gonzalez, America's second favorite vegetarian NFL player

A few years ago, as part of our craven attempts to usher the SportSquee readers into football fandom, we produced a series dissecting each team in the NFL. Since that time, and especially in the last six months, there have been major changes in the National Football League, necessitating a fresh look at guiding you toward your new favorite football team. Consider us the Match.com of fans and football teams.

Team: Atlanta Falcons
Division: NFC South
Famous For: Having a herpes-spreading, fight dog-killing quarterback
Headlining Alumni: Michael Vick
Quarterback(s): Matt Ryan

Why You Should Root For Them: Two years ago, the Falcons had fallen about as far as a team can fall. Their franchise QB was heading to jail, their coach hiked up his skirt and ran away to college football, and they just plain sucked. They brought in a new coach Mike Smith, drafted Boston College's Matt Ryan, and picked up LaDainian Tomlinson's back-up Michael Turner. Now let's be honest, two years ago, we were definitely not drinking the Matt Ryan Kool-Aid (losing $20 to my cousin on that bet), nor did we think this Michael Turner guy would do much of anything. However, the Falcons exploded out of the gate, becoming one of the happier stories of the season until they lost in the Wild Card game. Ryan looked like a patient vet, Turner led the league in rushing, and Coach Smith looked like a genius. Also, they uncovered great receviers in Roddy White (who you can think of as a Muppet Babies version of Larry Fitzgerald and Michael Jenkins, and then they grabbed Tony Gonzalez from the Chiefs. So, between the relentless running game and the receiving threats, this is a pretty balanced offense. The 2009 Falcons weren't nearly as successful as they were in Ryan's rookie year, but this is still a team with growth potential. You may want to catch them on the way up. Also, their owner, Arthur Blank, always looks like he just hopped off stage from a community theatre production of Guy and Dolls. Love it.

Why You Shouldn't Root For Them : The Falcons no longer employ SportSquee's Favorite Person Alive Warrick Dunn. So, there's that. Also, if you still have malingering feelings about Ron Mexico's Kennel of Death, then, I'm sure the Falcons (and the Eagles) are not for you.

Potential Boyfriends: Matt Ryan, Tony Gonzalez, Warrick Dunn forever!

The Girls Guide to Football: Arizona Cardinals

Larry Fitzgerald would like to argue against the use of sleeves in football

A few years ago, as part of our craven attempts to usher the SportSquee readers into football fandom, we produced a series dissecting each team in the NFL. Since that time, and especially in the last six months, there have been major changes in the National Football League, necessitating a fresh look at guiding you toward your new favorite football team. Consider us the Match.com of fans and football teams.

Team: Arizona Cardinals

Divison: NFC West

Famous For: Almost pulling off a miracle comeback vs the Steelers in the Super Bowl, before Santonio Holmes yanked that miracle out of the sky, tucked it, and kept his toes in bound.

Headlining Alumni: Rod Tidwell

Quarterback(s): Derek Anderson, Matt Leinart, some kids

Why You Should Root For Them: Well, firstly, wide receiver Larry Fitzgerald. Watching him play is a plain old treat. He doesn't just catch the ball, he leaps, dives, twists, pirhouettes, jetes, and pas de chats his way around the football field. Also, hot. Needs to be said. If you like a big air game, Arizona should be a natural fit. They rarely run the ball and are stacked at wide receiver with Fitzgerald, Steve Breaston, and Early Doucet. The Cardinals are the Little Team That Could in a lot of ways. They toiled on the edge of obscurity in the NFL's worst division. Seriously, the most famous player to don the Cards jersey, was a fictional wide receiver played by Cuba Gooding Jr. But the Cardinals quietly became pretty good. They drafted Matt Leinart out of USC and brought in the NFL's own Lazarus, Kurt Warner for veteran support. Leinart never developed into the franchise guy they hoped he would (though, admittedly, there is still time) but Warner showed up in a big way. His arm was still as fiery and accurate as ever, and he had stellar targets in Fitzgerald and Anquan Boldin. The three led the Cards to one of the more exciting Super Bowl games in recent memory. Although this season marks many changes and a return to possible limbo for the team, the turnaround makes it far more palatable to root for them, knowing that they have potential to turn things around. Plus, they boast one of the nicest stadiums in the country, with a natural grass field that slides in and out of the stadium. And it's just a ten minute drive from this bodega that serves the best burritos I've ever had. Definitely worth the road trip. The Cardinals have several likable dudes including religious studies major RB Tim Hightower, scary DT Darnell Dockett, and bruising, fumble-prone Beanie Wells. And they have some amazing names, too. Speedy cornerback with a name that sounds like a a tough-as-nails corporate matriarch on Dynasty, Dominique Rodgers-Cromartie. And a running back/returner who sounds like he churns out gothic-tinged horror novels in LaRod Stephens-Howling.

Why You Shouldn't Root For Them: The Cardinals of this season are going to look very different than the Cardinals of last season. Gone are Anquan Boldin (to the Ravens), Karlos Dansby (to the stupid Dolphins), and Kurt Warner (to a mercifully quiet retirement--ahem, Favre). And coming in are former Jets favorites Kerry Rhodes and Alan Faneca, Steelers legend and bare midriff champion Joey Porter, and one of the sacrificial lambs of the Cleveland Browns, Derek Anderson. Leinart and Anderson will presumably compete in camp for the starting job. And it's anyone's guess as to who is going to get the gig (though, we guess Leinart). When Leinart did start, he was perfectly cromulent until felled by injuries. Anderson was a revelation a few years ago with the Browns (prompting SportSquee to give him a ringing endorsement as a player to watch, which we are too embarrassed to link to now) and then things got really shitty. It's hard to tell if Anderson sucked or if it was the collective ineptitude of the Browns as a whole (because there was a lot of ineptitude). But Leinart has never acheived the highs that Anderson did, but he also never experienced the lows. The quarterback issue will be a real question mark going into the season, especially for a team built around a lot of passing. That level of uncertainty may be enough to turn you off to the Cardinals altogether.

Potential Boyfriends: Larry Fitzgerald, Kerry Rhodes, Steve Breaston

Game Day with Margee: USA vs Slovenia

You're lucky I've agreed to love you, Landon Donovan.

That itchiness you've been feeling? A general malaise for work? An unusual desire to sit still for 100 minute stretches with few breaks and even less action? All symptoms of World Cup Fever. I have it. You have it. And if you don't, you're a terrible person, according to what the pretentious twat I sat next to at the bar last night told me. Apparently, enjoying soccer frees one of the label "Ugly American." The game of soccer, apparently, is too complicated for puny American brains, we can't appreciate the nuances. After all, there is one ball and two goals and two teams trying to score on each other's goals. And we play it from the ages of five to ten and then abandon it for cooler sports. Shut up rest of the world. Anyway, buckle in. Cindy Crosby the French Bulldog and I are here for the duration. Except for an occasional [tobacco] break, followed by the inevitable nacho break.

10:02 AM-Clint Dempsey elbows some hot bitch from Slovenia. The Slovenian sells it, grimacing and clenching like Robert Green's asshole.
10:05 AM-Landon Donovan takes a corner kick. Donovan does nothing for me. With the height and the hairline and the general pointiness. And I am particularly critical of corner kickers, since I was the most notorious corner kicker in GCC Soccer. Every other eight year-old quaked in their own zone at my prowess.
10:12 AM- Carlos Bocanegra sighting. Sigh.
10:13 AM-Slovenia scores. Booooo! The scorer rocks a pathetic facsimile of David Beckham's fauxhawk. And his mama wears combat boots.
10:19 AM-I am watching this game on a $3,000 television set (I live with boys, okay?) and yet the sound quality is that of the battery powered combination TV/Flashlight my mom keeps in the laundry room in case of alien invasions or earthquakes. Fuck the Vuvuzelas.
10:28 AM-The nicest thing about soccer, is that you can really live your life while watching a game. Scoring chances are few and far between, so really you can read, surf the internet, prepare after-[tobacco] nachos and be fine. just know that you have to look up as soon as the announcer's voice starts to climb. I like that.
10:32 AM-Oguchi Onyewu (yes I had to look up the spelling) is a piece. I don't worry about mispronouncing his name, because I only intend to call him "O!" Haha, get it? Get it? I'm being dirty! See? Soccer is fun.
10:35 AM-Penalty kick for the USA. A nice kick by Jose Torres, he almost makes it. Again, if he wants tips, this was right in my wheelhouse as a ten year-old. In other news, Jose Torres looks like the imaginary baby if Peter Facinelli mated with a hawk.
10:38 AM-Findley with a scoring chance. Fail. Right away there is another scoring chance off a corner kick and no one sees it. Findley gets yellow carded for a hand ball. Because his hand and his face apprently look alike. Because the ball bounced off his face, ref. Thanks.
10:40 AM-Another USA scoring chance! By one of the USA players! I think it was Mia Hamm. The announcer says the US is really knocking on the door and I believe him.
10:41 AM- Except not. Because Slovenia scores. The US makes the terrible mistake of waiting for an offside call that never happens (ignoring the always play until the whistle rule that we are taught at five years old), leaving a Slovenian with a wide open net. I think it was Anze Kopitar.
10:47 AM- Halftime. USA 0, Slovenia 2. Soccer -12.

Half- The dude says that Landon Donovan basically said some thing to effect of "If we don't beat Slovenia, we don't deserve to be in the round of 16." Way to kibosh the team, Dono! Also, [tobacco].

11:04 AM-USA SCOOOOOOOOORRRRRREEEESSS!!!!! GOOOOOOOOOAL!!!!! Forget everything I said about Landon Donovan! He can have whatever he wants from me if he can score two more goals!
11:08 AM-HOLY SHIIIIT! Oh no, Clint Dempsey comes thisclose to scoring again. Gah.
11:12-ish AM- Tim Howard makes a leaping save and USA has some intense scoring opportunities that come to naught.
11:15 AM-Nachos.
11:23 AM-USA has one substitution left. Yikes.
11:26 AM- Slovenia gets a yellow card. Landon Donovan's hairline is pissed for some reason. Thought he was getting a red card? In my experience, the only way to get a red card is to step on Lauren Miller when she gets in the way of your throw-in and needs to be taught a lesson. So, sorry, boys.
11:27 AM- Donovan free kick and Altidore allllmost scores. Blast!
11:29 AM-Free kick, almost scores.
11:31 AM-Almost score.
11:33 AM-Landon Donovan gets taken down and Forbergs it until his feet hurt. He draws a yellow card. His kick lands in a sweet spot, but they can't connect.
11:38 AM-AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Michael Bradley scores! A beautiful head from Altidore with the deatstrike of Bradley. The score is tied. My uterus dead.
11:43 AM-Edu scores! But the ref calls offsides, negating the goal. repeated viewings show that Bradley was being held and there was no offsides. The ref looks like Capt. Daniels from The Wire, so I'm having a hard time getting too mad at him. But I'm relly mad.
11:44 AM-Major Tim Howard save.
11:46 AM-Tim Howard gets a piece of a great Slovenian shot and goes ape on his defenders who had totally let Slovenia waltz into the box and start a weenie roast. I'm little into him now. Not gonna lie.
11:48 AM-I'm still really mad at Captain Daniels about calling off that goal. Nachos.
11:50 AM-They're carrying off a Slovenian. No word if he's cute.
11:52 AM-Game over. It ends in a tie 2-2. The US should be proud they got out of there alive. and if stupid Captain Daniels (also Broyles on Fringe) hadn't blown off that goal, my boner would be complete.
11:53 AM-One of the hand-shaking Slovenians looks like a Staal Brother/Prince Harry hybrid. We've seen this before, but still. Wow. The cameraman notices this too, because he lingers on Prince OtherStaal well past his handshakes. Oh, it's the guy who scored before. Sorry for what I said about his mama.
11:55 AM-Alexi Lalas has clearly been sahring a pharmacist with Paul Abdul. He gives Altidore my Oneywu face when thanking him for steeping up in the second half. He calls Captain Daniels "a disgrace." I agree with Paula.
11:56 AM-Very Ed Harris-y coach of the USA is giving and interview. He speaks like Christopher Walken and I don't think it's a joke. He too think Captain Daniels is no better than Bubbles. And while he's proud of his boys for fighting back, he's conflicted.

After [Tobacco] Nachos
You Will Need: 1 bag of chips, 1 jar of salsa, 1 can of beans (black preferred, but any may work), Soy cheese
Directions: Combine can of beans and half jar of salsa with some salt and garlic powder in the food processor. Grind until fairly smooth.
Spread chips out on a pam-ed baking sheet. Drop the bean dip all over the chips, spread some cheese. Spread a few more chips, spread other half jar of salsa, spread more cheese. Sprinkle Lawry's or salt over the top and bake at 350 til cheese is bubbly. Use whatever bean dip and chips are lfet to tide you over until the chips are ready.

The Girls Guide to Picking Your Stanley Cup Final Team: Chicago Blackhawks

Nice mudflap, Patrick Kane. You've done 1987 proud.

I'm still doped up and missing most of my kneecap. But I march (hobble) on in my quest to help you pick which team to root for in the Stanley Cup Final. Let's have a look at the Chicago Blackhawks.


Why You Should Root For Them

Where to start? The Blackhawks are one of the feel-good sports stories of the last few years. Remember how it always seemed like the people who hate children the most always become math teachers, and you wonder why they ever took a job working with kids? Well, you had to wonder why Bill Wirtz ever bought a hockey team. The Blackhawks owner let the team toil in obscurity, deciding it wouldn't be in the team's best interest to televise home games. Not that anyone really wanted to watch them anyway, since they were routinely pretty bad. But ownership didn't want to do anything about that either. Then "Dollar" Bill died, leaving his son in charge of the franchise and boy howdy did he turn that shit around. Games were broadcast, veteran talent was recruited, and franchise cornerstones were drafted, and soon the Windy City had a team to rally around (not Jay Cutler's). The once-proud franchise was proud again. Thanks in large part to the savvy drafting of Jonathan Toews, a sort of baby Yzerman, and Partrick Kane (who is currently cultivating an awesome Rocky V-era Tommy Gunn-style mullet), a wee, slippery sniper. The infusion of fresh blood meshed with veteran(-ish) mettle from Brian Campbell and Patrick Sharp among others. But the key word is 'young.' Because there's the blistering, young defense of Brents Sopel and Seabrook and Duncan Keith. And a passal of nasty power forwards like Kris Versteeg and Dustin Byfuglien. Plus, there's Antti Niemi, celebrating his Vicky Lester moment in goal. It's a team that should be good for a while, so you might want to latch on now. And, because it must be said, not only do the Blackhawks boast one of the best logos in sports, they are also much better looking than the Flyers. If that matters to you.


Why You Shouldn't Root For Them

Well, there are some behavior questions for the team. Patrick Kane, their young star on offense, was arrested last summer for punching out a cabbie over pocket change in Buffalo. No, I didn't make that up. You'd be hard-pressed to pull a story that douchey out of your ass. Baby Yzerman Jonathan Toews was arrested a few years ago for underage drinking, which--shocking! Who doesn't wait til they turn 21 to drink in this country? Scandal!! Though, realistically, one would expect a Baby Yzerman to have wits enough not to get caught. Then there's Marian Hossa, who's come off as a gormless, craven Roger Clemens-type; eager to win a Cup no matter the team. Otherwise... not much to say. These are two tough-to-root-against teams. Neither is truly deplorable if you are not from the New York tri-state area, in which case, you're going to root against a Philadelphia team no matter what. So, take your pick.

The Girls Guide to Picking Your Stanley Cup Final Team: Philadelphia Flyers

Honestly, the drinking doesn't offend me. Jeff Carter's t-shirt does.

It's that glorious time of year again, when we spring headfirst into the Stanley Cup Finals. Of course, I'm not springing anywhere. I'm currently recovering from extensive knee surgery and have few lucid moments between doses of painkillers. And most of those lucid moments are taken up by playing UNO with my niece and nephew with whom I have been staying (and they totes cheat). Or begging Cindy Crosby the French Bulldog not to chew her nylabone on the swollen, bloody limb that is my knee joint. So before the percocets kick in and I lose any more of my kneecap, let's look at the Eastern Conference Champion Philadelphia Flyers.




Why You Should Root For Them

The Flyers legendarily bruising "Broad Street Bully" history gives them a lot of street cred to coast on. Remember when Homer sold his soul to the devil on The Simpsons, and the devil had a trial that included Hell's jury? Lumped in with Lizzie Borden and John Wilkes Booth? You guessed it: the starting lineup of the 1976 Flyers. If you like bloody, beat-down hockey, the spectre of the olde-tyme Flyers is enough for you to hop on the band wagon. And while the current Flyers boast some baddies like Daniel Carcillo and pesty pests like Ian Laperriere and Arron Asham, they aren't nearly as violent as the classic Flyers. But management has done a nice job of putting together a blue collar, grinding, scrappy lil' team that bears some fingerprints of the Bullies of yore. After all, it takes an immeasurably tough team to come back from a 3-0 deficit versus the Boston Bruins. This is largely because the Flyers have some of the most complete players in the league. Mike Richards, Jeff Carter, Simon Gagne (more on him later), Scotty Hartnell pretty much embody the New NHL player. Each guy is multi-dimensional, responsible on both ends, and will chew through a wall to win. Which makes for a very likable, easy-to-root-for team (and as a New Yorker, you know how it rends me to say something positive about a Philadelphia-related team, besides the detectives on Cold Case). All of the players really seem to buy into the team concept, Miracle-style. So there really isn't a flashy, selfish douchebag (yes, yes, Pronger, but he's not exactly selfish, is he?). And they have two possible future superstars in Claude Giroux and James Van Riemsdyk. Plus, there have been some feel-good stories in goal, with the redemption (before his injury) of oldie Brian Boucher and the rise of young'un Mike Leighton. Both have had moments of dominance and it's been great to watch. And finally, although Mike Richards is the embodiment of a Home Depot Husband, he is not my favorite Flyer. I have a raging hockey boner for Simon Gagne and I always have. For clarification purposes, please note that I do not want to bang him. I am simply enamored with the way this guy plays hockey. And I have whined and ranted in the past about how underrated he is as a player, and finally, everyone else is seeing what I've seen for years (and hopefully this Stanley Cup Final will be his Henrik Zetterberg moment). He plays two-way hockey really well for someone who is touted as a scorer. He's just caught a raw deal with the myriad injuries he's faced throughout his career. But when he's upright, he's a major player. But we may need to have a discussion about that Pat Riley hair...








Why You Shouldn't Root For Them


Well, they're from Philly. So, there's that, of course. Plus, Chris Pronger is on the team. Pronger is easily one of the least likable players in the NHL, given his continued dirty play, his hero worship by commentators, the Edmonton Oilers scandal, the babymaking-with-teenagers rumors, his bewildering insistence on getting the same haircut as former First Lady Laura Bush, the fact that his front teeth have never met, and his dirty, dirty play. Plus, he's good. Which makes his laundry list of repugnancies even tougher to tolerate. Also, Danny Briere is a diver. If people want to continue insisting that Cindy Crosby is a diver and a whiner than those same people also have to save a pair of Speedos and a hankie for lil' Danny Briere. Then there is the rumors that the team was suffering from too many beer busts and beaver hunting. And the rumor about Jeff Carter and Scotty Hartnell's wife. Yikes. Double yikes considering the Flyers have been torn asunder before by teammates allegedly boffing other teammates' wives. But in all honesty, aside from their hometown, there aren't all that many glaring reasons to root against the Flyers, because, all Prongers aside, they are a pretty likable team. The biggest hurdle they face is that the Blackhawks have a better storyline than they do. It's kind of tough to root against the Blackhawks and therefore, tough to root for the Flyers.