Showing posts with label sports on HDD?. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sports on HDD?. Show all posts

10/31/14

The 10 Most Important Things That Happened In The NBA Last Night

The 10 Most Important Thing That Happened In The NBA Last Night
By Nathan G. O'Brien

Hi, my name is Nathan and I’m an Elite Basketball Mind. Notice I didn’t say I have an elite basketball mind. It’s capitalized because it’s an official title. Whether it be playing, watching, coaching my fantasy team, making dope mixtapes for pre-game warmups, or being called upon by my friends to determine the legitimacy of a pair of Jordans or Nikes, I’ve been involved in basketball in some facet for my entire life. Same as with punk rock, rap music, and probably pro-wrestling, I know all there is to know about basketball. I don’t like to brag about it though because that’s not really my style. Plus people tend to get intimidated by my wealth of knowledge which makes conversation, partying, and sexual encounters difficult. Even though I’m in a class with guys like Jalen Rose, Mike Krzysewski, and DeLaSalle Head Coach Dave Thorson, I prefer to maintain a casual, unassuming persona, as to not alienate pretty much everyone around me at any given time. Well enough about me. Here’s the 10 most important things that happened in the NBA last night…
   
Spike Lee Sat Courtside in Cleveland
Clearly the only thing bigger than Spike’s love of basketball is his bank account. How this guy continually does shit like this is beyond me. I can only assume he goes on Craigslist like,
“Hey, this is Spike Lee. I’ve got hella money. I will give some of it to you in exchange for your courtside seat. I mean I got so much money that it will like, change your life homie. I get that it would be fun for you to be courtside at LBJ’s second first home game in Clevo ever but just think about how comfortable it will be watching it from your couch while you’re sittin’ on a cool mil. Hit me up. One Love, Spike.”

LeBron James and Kevin Love Flexed
The increasingly unlikeable Kevin “Knuckle Pushups” Love threw a dope full-court pass to the mostly still unlikeable LeBron James which resulted in not only an easy two points, but these completely likeable bicep-riffic screen caps that I took with my cell phone.




Mike Miller Had a Hairstyle
Mike Miller continued the longstanding tradition of white NBA players with fucked-up hair understanding that having fucked-up hair is the one way for white NBA players to get any sort of attention whatsoever by coming off the bench looking like Mad Men meets early ‘90s hip-hop.



Jason Smith Made Me Aware That He’s a Thing That Exists
Until he did that little dick move to LeBron where you try to slap the ball away after the whistle has been blown and then acted like he didn’t do anything at all—even going so far as to say to the ref, “I didn’t do anything at all”—I had no idea who this big goof of a white guy was. On top of that he sealed the Cavs loss with a couple free throws. OK, Jason Smith, I see you.



The Cavs Lost
I’m sort of mad at LBJ and chronic weight fluctuation-er Kevin Love for making me cheer against Kyrie Irving. And also for making it way more expensive to go see the Cavs when they come to Minneapolis for their matchup with America’sTeam.

I attempted to see Kyrie play in person two seasons ago but he was hurt. So instead my friend Matt and I kept ourselves entertained by spending the entire game drinking expensive light beers and talking about whether or not that curly-haired white guy on the Cavs bench was Luke Walton. We could have just looked up the roster on our phones but that would’ve ruined the fun. Turns out it was him and holy shit were we ever overjoyed when he checked in to the game.

Although it’s not the same type of 2010 Miami Heat hatred, I am casually rooting against the Cavs now. Sorry Kyrie. It’s not you, it’s me.



Russell Westbrook Channeled His Inner Eddie Murphy
Never mind that Russ fractured is hand last night or that he attempted confront a Clippers fan who was yelling “UCLA” at him. (I mean, come one dude, you did go to UCLA and you were in Los Angeles.) That’s nothing compared to his pre-game arena arrival where he dressed in the most Westbrook-y of outfits. I don’t think it’s too far a stretch to say he’s one vanity scarf and a drunk dad joke away from being Eddie Murphy in Raw.



Evan Fournier Had Hair Potential
Wait, what the fuck year is it? I’d really like to see Evan continue to grow out the top while still shaving the sides and back. You know, go with the full-on ‘90s white guy who listens to alternative music hairstyle. There’s a college freshman who wears Doc Martens and long sleeves under his tee shirts and ties flannels around his waist still in me somewhere that will really love it.



Paul Pierce Wore a Wizards Uniform
This is so fucked up. I could handle him on the Nets last year, mostly because he was still playing with KG and because the Nets unis aren’t that different from the Celtics. But seeing him in the Wizards uni is like having a migraine or seizure or taking a hit off of a nitrous balloon; you have to squint to concentrate and the lights are really bright and there’s a ringing in your ears and then you black out because you can’t breathe.



Jordan Farmar Played for the Clippers
Aside from a couple seasons Jordan Farmar has somehow managed to play his entire career in L.A. He played HS ball at Woodland Hills, went to UCLA and did two stints with the Lakers before landing with the Clippers this season. Farmar comes to Lob City right from the Fakers, much like Matt Barnes did in 2012.  As a certified Lakers Hater and an OG Clipper Flipper I can’t not like this.

If you’ve ever been to a Lakers vs. Clippers game you know that shit’s real. Lakers fans HATE that the Clip Show has taken over L.A. Two years ago I went to the season kickoff game between the two at the Staples Center. The Lakers were the home team, so they had all their shit plastered everywhere, including a giant canvas photo of suspected anal rapist Kobe Bryant hanging up outside the arena. I had my buddy Dan take a picture of me giving it the middle finger before the game and it damn near got me killed. Dan was so scared he didn't want to inside after that.



Zack LaVine Checked Into His First NBA Game
After recording a DNP in America’s Team’s loss to Memphis, Internet dunk sensation Zack LaVine checked into his first NBA game. He only played 4 minutes and 30 seconds, resulting in a stats column that would make Mark Titus proud. But that’s not important. What’s important is that he’s not named J.J. Barea. 

Welcome to America’s Team, Big Zach. As they say in your native Seattle, mass dope!



Honorable Mentions: Kevin Love started going gray; Trey Burke made me interested in the Utah Jazz for the first time in, oh, probably forever; Coran Butler and Mo Williams made me wonder why anyone has ever traded them; and the free League Pass trial brought “Handsome” Chandler Parsons back into my life after a long summer away from each other.

Oh, and this weird thing happened at the end of the Clippers vs. OKC game...










Have a good weekend, you guys.

8/8/14

HDD on Wrestling

Kyle O'Reilly & Bobby Fish
HDD on Wrestling
By Nathan G. O'Brien

To stave off boredom brought on by some unfortunate and unexpected downtime (explained here) I have decided to do a little writing about one my favorite things in the world: pro-wrestling. I’m a lifelong fan of the “spandex ballet.” Like many people my age who grew up in Minnesota, my earliest memories are of the AWA’s (American Wrestling Association) Saturday morning TV show called All-Star Wrestling. The High Flyers – “Jumpin’” Jim Brunzell & Greg Gagne, Jerry Blackwell, Nick Bockwinkel, “Sheik” Adnan Al-Kaissie, Bobby Heenan, The Fabulous Ones – Steve Keirn & Stan Lane, The Road Warriors – Hawk & Animal, Rick Martel, Medusa Miceli, “The Incredible” Hulk Hogan, Bruiser Brody, Curt Hennig, The Midnight Rockers – Sean Michaels & Marty Jannetty, Mr. Saito, Badd Company – Paul Diamond & Pat Tanaka, and the list goes on. This of course led to NWA, UWF, World Class, CWA,WWF and countless other territorial federations and alliances, many of whom I was only able to follow through Bill Apter mags like Pro-Wrestling Illustrated. I eventually moved on to reading newsletters in the ‘90s, when some coworkers suggest we split the subscription cost. And then of course there was the Internet wrestling explosion of the early ‘00s. What started as typical childhood fandom eventually grew into full-fledged passion. Today I’m what you would call a smart mark (or a smark); meaning I have as strong an interest in the backstage and non-scripted aspects of wrestling as I do the storylines and the in-ring/on-mic product.

I’ve written some essays and some show reviews in the past but it’s not often that I write much more than 140 characters on the subject of pro-wrestling, so this is kind of an experiment. Whether this turns into a regular thing or not remains to be seen. I do have an idea for another piece, but for now I’ll hold off on giving this thing an official name. We'll just call it HDD on Wrestling for the time being.

For this particular exercise I picked three wrestlers that I wanted to watch an old match of—Bobby Fish, Kyle O’Reilly, and Dean Ambrose—and plugged their names into YouTube.  

Bobby Fish vs. Ricky Reyes
NWA New York: Indytational 2010
Rochester, NY – 10/23/10 



This is one of my current favorites in “Big in Japan” Bobby Fish versus one of my older favorites in Ricky Reyes. In early to mid-‘00s I was a big fan of The Havana Pitbulls—or the Rottweilers as they were known in Ring of Honor when they were in a stable with Homicide and Low Ki—the tag team that Reyes was part of with Rocky Romero. I’ve seen Romero a few times recently on ROH teaming with Alex Koslov as Forever Hooligans but I haven’t seen Reyes in quite some time. Even as of 2010 when this match took place, I wasn’t really aware that he was still around. And this was probably about the time that Bobby Fish started entering my peripheral. I don’t watch a lot of Japan though, so it’s likely I’d be more of both of these guys back then if I did. 

In my opinion a Bobby Fish match that isn’t preceded by a Bobby Fish in-ring promo has significantly less heat than one that is. Half of Fish’s appeal is his on-mic work. But alas we don’t get that here. But we do get the old guys in the audience trying to act tough and front like they’d fight the wrestlers. Usually it’s Fish that would engage with these guys and turn into a comical thing but here Reyes and his big masked buddy, whose name I don’t recall (Star Rider maybe,) that have to deal with the idiots.

I’m all for fan participation—it’s one of the best parts of going to live wrestling shows—but I hate the individual guys that try to be a part of the show. This whole crowd going into business for themselves thing is a debate I don’t care to get into now. But I do think there’s a level of respect towards the performers that needs to be maintained as an audience member. I don’t give a flying fuck if the live crowd shits all over a WWE show. That’s an expensive as hell ticket and it’s a company that treats both their talent and their customers with unmatched vindictiveness and disdain. So if a John Cena promo is boring, by all means, go fucking nuts. But at an indie level event, show some fucking respect. Keep it fun and value the line between performer and fan.

Anyway, the match! Nothing too spectacular, but not the drizzling shits (shoutout to Lance Storm, who I have blocked from following me on Twitter) by any means. Fairly typical indie under 15 minutes match. Nice mix of Japanese-influenced US indie strong style and power moves like suplex and back breaker variations.

Cool spot late in the match where they trade hard kicks to the chest. Then both men hit the ropes, meeting in the middle with double shoulder tackles that leaves them both on their backs.

Reyes gets the win with a neck breaker variation after capitalizing on a missed top rope moonsault out of the corner by Fish. Fun match for what it is.

Kyle O’Reilly vs. Sami Callihan
IPW: Showdown in Naptown
Indianapolis, IN – 1/1/11



Here we have Bobby Fish’s Red Dragon (stylistically written as reDRagon) tag team partner Kyle O’Reilly putting on a great match with Sami Callihan for Insanity Pro Wrestling. This is from a dope card that also featured AR Fox vs. Ricochet, Jon Moxley (currently known as Dean Ambrose in WWE) vs. Jimmy Jacobs, Irish Airborne vs. American Wolves (current TNA tag team champions, assuming the company is still in business at the time you’re reading this,) and other little big names like Colt Cabana and Chuck Taylor.

Even though he’s got a lot of smark hype behind him and has been around for a long time now, I’ve somehow managed to only see a few Sami Callihan matches over the years. I suspect this is because I stopped buying indie DVDs and tapes on a regular basis in 2008. (This happen to coincide with me doing a lot of, ah, dating at the time, which left little room for watching taped pro-wrestling matches that took place in armories, community centers, and junior high gymnasiums.) I believe this is right around the time he started building steam. I’ve always appreciated his crazed eyeliner punk look. He’s currently working in WWE NXT as Solomon Crowe, so hopefully I’ll see more of his current stuff, as I am a WWE Network subscriber (which coincides with me also being married now.)  

Kyle O’Reilly on the other hand, I am very familiar with, due mostly to having ROH TV in our market. In my opinion, he’s one of the top ten American wrestlers with upward momentum working today. (More about this in a future piece hopefully.) I’m a huge fan of his offensive MMA/BJJ/grappling/judo skill set and he has a very unique way of selling (similar to Dean Ambrose) that I think works really well alongside his more recent cocky and comical skinny jeans coffee shop hipster gimmick.

Match starts off fast and heavy as Callihan charges into O’Reilly and lays in some hard alternating chops and forearms to the neck. O’Reilly takes advantage of a brief run to ropes from Callihan and meets him in the other corner with some forearms of his own and a series of his signature kicks. They then exchange upper hands once again, which sets the pace for the rest of the match. Typical but really fun strong style exchanges throughout the match. Lots of European upper cuts, chops, knee strikes, and cool spots where they match face slaps Japan style. The guys keep the pace of the match high by hitting the ropes frequently and keeping matwork to a minimum. When they do go to the mat it’s for quick paced and unique submission attempts, rather than long stalling holds like headlocks or chinlocks.

Cool spot outside the ring mid-match when they both take turns missing strikes and slam their hands into the ring posts. Love how Callihan does the little things; like when O’Reilly goes to kick him in the face he puts up his hands to block it and then sells his forearms. You don’t see a lot of guys doing that. Most would still sell that face which makes it less believable than it already is. Also like how Callihan does unique things like headbutts to the chest or making basic collegiate wrestling takedowns look really cool and punishing.

O’Reilly eventually responds with two rolling butterfly suplexs into a butterfly release DDT. Just beautiful wrestling. There’s a sweet MMA spot near the end that might have the anti-MMA pro-wrestling hardcores rolling their eyes, where O’Reilly has Callihan in a triangle and is delivering elbows to the head from his back. I’m not sure but I think I heard someone in the audience yell, “Watch the trajectory of those elbows ref.” At one point O’Reilly ends up with the full mount which I have to admit, doesn’t really work in pro-wrestling. It just looks too goofy throwing fake punches in the position.

Callihan gets the submission win via a Koji Clutch. They shake hands afterwards, ROH style. Great stuff.

I’d never seen any IPW stuff before this, which saddens me, as they have now seemingly gone on extended hiatus. (Building issues I am told.) I was hoping to make a road trip down to one of their shows after watching some of these matches. Here’s hoping they can pull it together. Well, at least we still have YouTube and DVDs in the interim. I’d also like to point out how much I like the green, white, and black color scheme of the ring.

Seth Rollins vs. Dean Ambrose
FCW TV
Tampa, FL – 9/18/11



Florida Championship Wrestling was the developmental territory started by WWE after they ended their longstanding partnership with Deep South Wrestling and Ohio Valley Wrestling. (Coincidently OVW is now the developmental territory for TNA…for the time being anyway.) In the summer of 2012 FCW was rebranded NXT, which was a previously a WWE television show that featured FCW talent.
Of all the original content on the WWE Network right now, NXT is hands down the best. Although in my opinion it’s not enough to make the $11 monthly subscription worth it on its own but with PPVS tossed in and all the old stuff it’s OK. If they take PPVs out of the equation, it’s likely I’ll cancel my sub, which will suck because I really enjoy NXT when I get a chance to watch it. But anyway, that’s all beside the point.

This is actually the first ever FCW match I’ve seen. FCW was never on TV here and if it was available on the Internet at the time, I had no idea, or more likely, had no time to watch it. Like the IPW ring set, I really dig the color scheme; especially the green ropes.

This is an early match between the two indie darlings (palm strike to whoever came up with that term, knee strike to me for using it) that are currently embroiled in a major—actually, the most exciting—storyline in WWE. Both Rollins (known as Tyler Black) and Ambrose (known as Jon Moxley) made the rounds amongst the indie circuits—cutting their teeth in places like ROH, PWG, IWA Mid-South, AAW, FIP, CZW, Evolve, JAPW, and Dragon Gate USA—before getting picked up by WWE. I’m actually kind of surprised that Rollins has made it as far as he has with WWE. I’m happy he has but I am surprised, given WWE’s track record of wasting potential based on guys’ size, that he’s in the position he’s in; which is poised to become WWE World Heavyweight Champion. Ambrose maybe even more so. I mean I knew the very first time I ever saw him—Dragon Gate USA: Enter the Dragon 2010—that he could be a ginormous star if given the chance but I still thought he had a subversive, loose cannon-like quality to him that would never appeal to WWE. So it’s really cool to see these guys in an old match that predates their awesome work on the main WWE roster as The Shield (with Roman Reigns) and their current feud.

This match is billed as “most pinfalls in 30 minutes wins” and is also for something called the FCW 15 Championship.  Around 10 minutes into it Rollins scores the first pinfall when Ambrose gets disqualified for a blatant kick to ye olden old nut sack. Within two minutes Ambrose scores two pinfalls on Rollins by capitalizing his inability to recover from shattered scrotum syndrome. It is things like this the make Ambrose so great. And the best part is he didn’t even have to do that old thing where the guy points his finger at his head to show he’s ahead in the mental game; you just know it already. If Trips ever wants to handoff his “Cerebral Assassin” gimmick to someone, Ambrose is the guy.

With just under 14 minutes left Rollins evens up the pinfall count at two a piece with a sunset flip. At this point the match really picks up, and the homoeroticism of pro-wrestling (let’s just be real here guys, it’s not a bad thing) starts to set in as they are perspiring and breathing heavy all over each other. There’s a sweet near fall when Rollins hits Ambrose with a springboard clothesline. Cool spot when both men tumble out of the ring with a vertical suplex by Ambrose. And another when they are on their knees slugging it out in the middle of the ring. Ambrose appears to be yelling, “Harder! Hit me harder!” With around three minutes left, Rollins misses a 540 (or some other unintelligent number) moonsault/swanton type thing that would be the pivotal point in any normal match. But this is not a normal match! The way Ambrose struggles to get to his feet, by flailing around and crawling up the rope is just awesome; very much in the Shawn Michaels vein.

With two minutes remaining Ambrose slaps on a Texas Cloverleaf that will take us up to the final minute of the match, in which the two men exchange each other’s finishing moves. Time runs out tied at two pinfalls a piece. A sudden death overtime is ordered by some women that is apparently “the general manager.” This is honestly a match that could headline Wrestlemania. If we’re lucky maybe someday we’ll see it. But don’t hold your breath on that.

Rollins hits an awesome looking suicide tope through the ropes to the outside. Literally the best tope I’ve seen in a long ass time. Perhaps I’m caught up in the excitement of the match. But that’s the point, right? Back in the ring, Rollins super kick to Ambrose, who rebounds off the ropes with a vicious lariat. One of the announcers says, “Oh my God, did that just happen?!” Those are exactly the right words to describe it. Rollins hits two more super kicks and follows them up with a dangerous-looking package driver for the win. Just. Fucking. Awesome.

Final thoughts on this match:
It’s cool to see WWE developmental doing stuff these days besides taking guys from the independent scene with unique skill sets and turning them into “WWE style” workers. As in actually developing stuff like this feud; this is now one of the main draws at the upcoming SummerSlam.

I’m not a huge fan of multiple super kicks in a match (shoutout to the Young Guns, whose hands I will attempt to shake if ever given the chance.) But I think it worked really well in this case because it was at the end of the match, which really drove home the point that it takes a lot to put a buy like Ambrose down for the count.

Given the near-blood feud status of the current Ambrose / Rollins angle it’s unlikely that they could do a straight wrestling match like this. They’ll probably have to do a Last Man Standing or Street Fight or some other gimmick match that will play to the idea that they absolutely hate each other. It’s safe to assume it will still be good—probably lots of high spots and bumps on announcer tables, stairs, the ramp, etc.—but I’d really like to see them start with a straight match like this one. But they’ve been booked beyond that now, so it doesn’t really make sense anymore. Either way, unless Brock Lesnar vs. John Cena is amazing (which is unlikely,) it is definitely looking to be the highlight of SummerSlam.

5/19/14

Scene Report: 2014 Almanzo 100

Almanzo 100; Spring Valley, MN; 5/17/14
I’m only 40 years old but goddamn if my body doesn’t feel a lot older than that on most days. Yet I train (when I train, that is) like I’m still 20 despite nothing responding the way I’d like it to. So naturally,I prefer to jump in the deep end when some sort of event comes up. When someone says “Hey let’s do one of those fun mud runs”, I say “OK, how about the Tough Mudder?” Likewise when my training partner suggested I do a bike race, I opted for the Almanzo, which is 100 miles of gravel roads through the hilly farm country of Southeastern Minnesota.

Even though I entered the event with a team of five guys it took me all of ten minutes on the bike to realize this was going to be an every-man-for-himself type of contest. I’ll spare you the mile-by-mile account of elevation, weather fluctuation, mental torment, and physical exhaustion. Let’s just say there are a lot of variables you have to endure out there on the trail. It goes from bottom of the barrel depression to thrill ride of your life and back again in a matter of minutes and it lasts for 12 fucking hours when you’re as slow as I am. I wrote two novels, directed three movies, had imaginary phone conversations with my dad and my brother, named my yet-to-be-conceived children, and worked out a bunch of un-dealt-with shit from my childhood in my head just to survive.  It was like a tug-of-war between my body and my mind. My body was like a school yard playground where all my muscles were cruel little kids running around pointing at each other and chanting “Haha, you can’t do this.” But then my mind would slap my muscles in the face and tell them to shut the fuck up. My cramps developed their own cramps who then had their periods, so my brain would morph into Jesse Ventura in Predator and tell them, “I aint got time to bleed.” 

I ingested two Gatorade gels, one Cliff Shot Blocker, two Nice granola bars, one Cliff Mojo granola bar, three quarters of a PB&J, a handful of Sun Chips, half a banana, a small bag of teriyaki beef jerky, 16 ounces of Cytomax, 96 ounces of Gatorade, six liters of water, six raspberries, four Oreos, six Advil, 18 Hammer Endurolytes, and enough dirt to cough up a sand castle big enough for Peter Dinklage to live in.

I saw painted horses, a giant turkey, a hawk of some sort, a humongous Bernese mountain dog, a black lab, a herd of goats, the most beautiful red wing blackbird ever, locals drinking beer in their yards, and some fabulous countryside filled with streams, bluffs, and green meadows.

My favorite parts of the race were the rare miles where I was able to keep up with the rest of my team; flying down hills and using the momentum to power up the next. And the camaraderie amongst all the competitors was awesome too. I didn’t talk to one single person out there that wasn’t friendly and motivating. My least favorite part was the last 20 miles, complete with sketchy gravel, and a so-close-yet-so-far-away route seemingly designed with the sole intent of pissing me off and breaking my will power. But quitting was never an option for me and more than anything it was the fear of failure that kept me going.  

So, was the finish line handshake from organizer Chris Skogen and the sense of pride and accomplishment worth it? Yeah, it definitely was. Would it be worth it to do it again? At this point I honestly don’t know. 

Someone asked me if it was as hard as I expected. Two days later and I still don’t know how to answer that. I keep vacillating between exactly as hard as I thought it would be and way fucking harder than I could have ever imagined. Physically, is it the hardest thing I’ve ever done? Quite possibly yes. Mentally, in terms of athletic endeavors, yes…I think. You see the thing is I’m not really sure anymore. Despite my body bouncing back surprisingly well, the Almanzo 100 has left me with a giant question mark looming over my head as to where I stand as an athlete. Going into this event, I knew I was quite under-prepared. Winter's asshole-y reluctance to go away, stolen bikes, and general laziness got the best of me these past months. I definitely could have trained and dieted better; I will be the first to admit that. But going forward, what kind of athlete do I want to be? And am I still capable of being the type of athlete I want to be? I don't know. 100 miles of thinking and I still haven't come to any conclusions.

-Nathan G. O'Brien