Things that really grind my gears....

          It's been a long time coming but I believe I have enough ammunition now to be allowed to whine about things that just aren't right. This is not opinion, but fact. I'm not so arrogant as to think my opinion is gold-encrusted and worthy of the moniker "fact", but rather, these things I'm about to kick and scream about are so one-sided I challenge you to find a valid counter argument. If you can, I'll shut this blog down and move every 6 months, forever wallowing in the fact that my distorted view of what is right and wrong in no way aligned with the people I called peers. Readers that do in fact subscribe to the notion that my written words are The Written Word..... you're sick, get out. I don't want to be your prophet.

          I almost called this one "Starbucks" for the simple reason that I get pissed off on about 90% of my visits there. Keep in mind I live in a college town, I study at the same library every day, and they %^&*ing put one AT THE FRONT FUCKING DOOR. (Sorry, I lose the ability to censor myself when I get like, really mad.) It goes without saying I visit Starbucks a lot. It got so bad, one week they gave me a t-shirt that said "Starbucks Stud" and they said I'd get 20% off every time I bought something while wearing it. 

(That didn't happen. Nobody actually cares.)

But seriously, did Mr. Starbucks knock up an administrator to get exclusive rights to my bank account? Double-yew tee eff, mate.

         Whatever, I've come to accept I'm a slave to the machine; that's not what I'm mad at. It's really more the people. No, it's the behavior of the people. (For all you hair-split-haters out there, I'm gonna go ahead and split this hair: there's a difference. And the simple difference is I don't want to punch a vanilla latte through the cashier's head when they don't behave this way.) 

          By now you're dying to know what behavior so pisses me off. Let me ask you this: when you pay at a cash, how is your change handed back to you? Is it coins then bills? Bills then coins? Receiptbillscoins? Receipt to the left hand, bills to the right, coins volleyball-spiked into your breast pocket? Simmer on this while I recount my tale.

          For the first week I spent in Gainesville, I encountered only a couple iterations. I was amazed that I was consistently handed back my change in only one of two ways. And both maddening. The first begins with them placing the coins ON the horizontal bill(s), forming an origami-esque money-ship with little metal sailors and sailing that bitch all the way into your hand totally oblivious to how many fine metal men get lost during the voyage. Seriously, every time this happens, time slows down. The cashier and I make eye contact. I see the innocent furrow of their brow. I notice the quiver of their lip as if to say, "oh my God, I don't know if I'll make it." And the little money boat makes its way through the air. Their hand shakes, quivers, sailors getting tossed to and fro. Sometimes, if they're really dumb, they haven't formed the Origami Money Ship, but left it flat, to resemble a Cash Raft, even more precarious for our seaman. Halfway through the journey they quietly realize, "Damn! Should have opted for the the Origami Money Ship. Whatever, can't do anything about it now. Gotta MacGyver this shit," at which point they squeeze their hand, folding the bills into a "V", reverse-engineering a Currency Canoe! Fuck, even I start to sweat. I don't know if all my sailors are going to make it. 75% of the distance covered, only a quarter journey to go! At this point I realize the risk is too great. By the time they reach 90%, I usually decide to go Hitch on their asses and cover the remaining 10%. I reach out and before any of my sailors go overboard, I extend my hand, fingers stretched to dock the ship/canoe/raft. In desperate times, I whip my other hand around as an insurance policy and form a little bowl where our enlightened cashier can just dump this shipwreck and get it over with. 

Gimme a minute. I'm sweating a little. I'm also marveling at the fact "gimme" and "gonna" don't have little red squigglies under them. Fuck everything.

          

          If that wasn't harrowing enough and you don't need to change your underwear, read on. The second one is similar but worse, believe it or not. In this version the cashier keeps the coins in one hand and the bills in the other. Unsure, I extend my hand first at which point their coin-hand starts to move. I'm thinking, "ok, this is good." The coin hand comes at me, fingers down, pinched together like The Claw from Toy Story, grasping my coinage like a bunch of wrecked, computer-animated Pixar cars. As it approaches, I start to open my hand, palm up, to receive the goods. But before said coinage touches down, out of butt-fucking nowhere, BOOM LIKE BABYLON comes their other hand with the bills. Right before the coins land, the other hand slips the bills into my palm and almost instantaneously the coins hit right after. Yep, you guessed it, I've got a goddamn Cash Raft on my hands. Not only that, but none of the distance has been covered, remember? I extended MY hand. We still have to journey home! The cashier has this relieved look like, "whew, at least I don't have to deal with this shit anymore," and now sits back to see what I was about to do. But I'm no bitch. I know my only hope is the Origami Money Ship. I suitably clench, forming said ship. My experience prevails and I can usually get my sailors to shore safely.

          So what's the lesson from this harrowing tale? Simple: LEARN HOW TO GIVE GODDAMN CHANGE BACK YOU MORONS. It's so simple it hurts my medulla. You have two hands, and you have two types of change, bills and coins. No coincidence. Grasp bills with one hand, coins with the other. It's not string theory. Reach coin-hand out first, depositing payload in upturned palm of customer. Reach with other hand and hold bills just high enough above customer's hand so customer can grasp bill(s) with fingerTIPS. Release payload. Retract in satisfaction knowing today, you're not an idiot.

Simple.

Clean.

Worthy of an Apple product launch.

And on to the next one.

-Mtl Gator

(Oh, disclaimer: this whole post only applies if your change is in fact bills AND coins. If it isn't, ever, you're a freak and your concern at this moment shouldn't be this blog but why you're so goddamn neurotic.)

(Sorry, second disclaimer: I may have given the impression with the words "enough ammunition" that other things piss me off. Do not fear, they do. I just want to keep this short and sweet. Not sure the masses can handle more idiocy. We'll talk more later.)

Is Jordan Staal the most underrated player in the NHL?

The title of this is surely going to scare some readers away, but I'm too proud to make it catchy and I like to think I'm rewarding a hockey non-fan who decides to keep reading with something that's slightly interesting. I'm not a sell-out. As for the hockey fans who only read this because there's hockeyesque in the title, I'm flattered you're even toying with the idea I might be able to contribute something meaningful to the grand pool of hockey knowledge on the interweb (of which most is less interesting and far less useful than a pool of liquid shit).

Sidney Crosby.
Yes, Sidney Crosby.
He of World Junior gold, NHL captaincy, Stanley Cup fame, Olympic gold, and what no one wants to talk about: he of "If I play at least 70 games, I'll score 100 points. Seriously, look at my stats."
He of two concussions in a week, he of ten months on injured reserve, and last but not least, he of seemingly perfect health on Monday November 21st, 2011.

Let me tell you one thing, the hype is real. Sid the Kid might just be the best player of all time. Not if he retired today, but simply if he keeps any semblance of the numbers he's put up since he came to the league. He shoots as well as anybody, literally. Fantastic vision. He might be the best player anyone's ever seen along the boards. Soft hands. Leadership (yah yah, shoot me, he's a leader). Faceoffs, shootouts, penalty minutes, shots; name it, he owns it.
Again, the hype is real. And not only is it real, it's merited. Not one of the reports, newspapers, magazines, or any of the millions of online posts could overstate how important it was that Sidney Crosby get back to playing as soon as possible. So then why is his return to the game NOT the most important part of him returning to the game? It's simple.
Concussions.

Is it any wonder Crosby had four points in his first game in ten months? If it is, stop it. Is it any wonder that before five minutes were played, you could see him streaking up center-ice, taking a deft pass in full stride, cutting to the right circle holding off an opponent, and mercilessly roofing it for a how-she-doin' top cheeser? If it is, stop it. And I'll tell you why it's no wonder. The Pittsburgh Penguins have the best medical staff in the NHL. Or if they don't, they're the first organization to show that the NHL is the most forward thinking league in pro sports.

It wasn't long ago all head trauma in a sporting context was ubiquitously called "getting your bell rung," or "seeing stars", both of which implied that, given enough time and some water, the bell would stop ringing, and the stars would stop shining. Progress was made, but players were still being unceremoniously chucked back into games when they shouldn't have been. And the worst part? Most of them wanted to keep playing. Whether it was an oppressive machoism-dominated culture, the need for a paycheck, or just a burning desire not to stop, something pushed athletes in way too soon. The best review of this issue, also maybe being the single piece of literature that signifies a shift in how athletics view concussions, was written by Malcolm Gladwell (Blink, Tipping Point, Outliers) for the New Yorker. It's long but well worth the read:

http://www.newyorker.com/reporting/2009/10/19/091019fa_fact_gladwell

This is why the Pittsburgh Penguins are different. Sure it was partially motivated by Sid (maybe) being the greatest hockey player of all time, but it doesn't matter. They still needed to be absolutely safe. And not safe in the "oh let's wait a couple more weeks" kind of way, but safe to the point of almost overdoing. For the first time in the history of sport, there was no compeititive pressure, macho pressure, management pressure, or even coaching pressure (well, maybe there was, but if so, it didn't work!). Sid was cleared for full contact at practice a MONTH before he started playing again. Sid fielded questions whenever they were volleyed at him. Sid sought out contact at practice to MAKE SURE he was okay. Sid returned home on road trips to be more closely monitored by doctors. Caution isn't even the word....

Granted, the Penguins didn't need to rush him back; they sat in first place for most of this season. But the posterboy of the NHL only came back when he was READY. And is there any doubt anymore that he was, in fact, ready? Four points monday night against the Islanders, three points friday night against the Sens. On a team where no one really plays more than 20 minutes, Sid's averaging about 17. All this to say that if you yanked someone out from under the darkest, deepest rock and FORCED them to love the NHL, they would have absolutely no idea Crosby suffered from head trauma for ten months.

So why are the Penguins the greatest team in the NHL today? Is it because they dominated the league without Crosby, Malkin, or Staal the first couple of weeks? Mmmm, maybe. Is it because they draft, develop, and trade so perfectly they're always Stanley cup contenders despite their best two players being in and out of the game for the last 18 months? Mmmmmm, closer. Or is it because for the first time an organization had the resources to properly treat a player with post-concussion syndrome and have him immediately produce to prove it?
Bingo
(keep in mind, "resources" here means a perfect storm of events converging to yield this particular result: 
1. Crosby being the injured one, and not, say, Zach Bogosian (no offense).
2. The miles-deep talent of the Penguins allowing them to succeed without Crosby and thus reduce his pressure to return. 
3. Some level-headed team doctors educating themselves on head trauma. 
4. The deaths of Derek Boogaard, Rick Rypien and Wade Belak this year alerting fans that getting punched in the head may have deeper, unseen consequences (whether in fact this is true or not).
5. Timing: concussions have been put under the microscope in hockey and football since the Gladwell's article (above). Only now do we understand the dangers head trauma present.)


To keep it short: the Pittsburgh Penguins may be the first step towards a cure for the disease that is concussions in sport.

So why the title? Why Jordan Staal? Maybe I'd like to shed light on someone who deserves to be shed on... (ok, the flow of that sentence is a lot nicer than what the words actually mean) During a season so focused on Sidney Crosby it would cause some fans to ask "what's an Evgeni?", there's no hope in hell a third line center would get even a whiff of attention. Except, Jordan Staal isn't really a third line center. On a team the likes of the Penguins, this third liner is fifth in scoring, and second in ice time among forwards. What's more, in a league with sixty centers who play on higher lines than his (30 teams x (1 top line center + 1 2nd line center) = 60 centers in the top two lines), he is 18th among scoring in centers. Granted, much of this season has been played on higher lines with Crosby's injury, but now, this is their third center! When a player like Malkin gets overshadowed for the first twenty games by someone on injured reserve, what hope is there for Staal? Well, no one on the Penguins really gives a shit, and neither does he. He's a consummate professional, and he'll be the deciding factor if the Penguins bring home the cup this year. Don't believe me? Add to this list the fact he's among the top 3 in ice time among centers (right around 20 minutes), and that among those centers who actually contribute, he's second in shooting percentage (23.5). So I ask agian, no wait, I'm telling you this time.
Jordan Staal is the most underrated player in the NHL.