London Olympics organisers hit dead note with opening ceremony plans

The cheeky Guardian reports:

The London 2012 opening ceremony is going to be called Isles of Wonder, but there can be no wonderment more wonderful than the fact that Olympics organisers wanted Keith Moon to perform.

Moon has been dead for 34 years.

The drummer for the Who died in 1978 after ingesting 32 tablets of clomethiazole, a sedative he had taken for alcohol withdrawal symptoms.

The band’s manager, Bill Curbishley, told the Sunday Times he had been approached to see if Moon “would be available” to play with the surviving members this summer.

“I emailed back saying Keith now resides in Golders Green crematorium, having lived up to the Who’s anthemic line ‘I hope I die before I get old’,” came the excellent reply.

“If they have a round table, some glasses and candles, we might contact him.”

For its part, the staff of the Guardian is just really looking forward to seeing Jesse Owens compete.

They also could’ve gone with a “Pictures of Lily” reference (“[]he’s been dead since 19[78]”), but it wouldn’t have rhymed and seriously, how did the London Olympic Committee miss this one? Moon isn’t just the one-time drummer of a classic rock band. One could be forgiven for not knowing the life status of the drummer from Mot the Hoople. I’d even give you Faces or the one-armed guy from Def Leppard. But Moon is the famously dead drummer of one of the biggest British rock bands ever. I mean, there he is atop British Drummergod Mount Olympus alongside John Bonham (Led Zeppelin), Charlie Watts (Rolling Stones), and Ginger Baker (Cream, Blind Faith, Ginger Baker’s Air Force). This would be like the 1996 Atlanta Olympic Committee inviting Duane Allman to perform or the 2096 Alanta Olympic Committee inviting Jerry Garcia.

Speaking of Atlanta and dead musicians, though, now that someone finally put CNN’s hologram technology to value-adding entertainment use, maybe Moon can make it after all.

A non-shampoo explanation for Troy Polamalu’s smoothness

(L-R:) Troy Polamalu's current http://www.thefacebook.com profile picture; A man never seen in the same room as Polamalu.

Many are surprised when they hear hard-hitting NFL defender Troy Polamalu’s voice for the first time. It certainly is higher in the register and more emotive than might expectedly befit a violent player of a violent sport. He really does emote the tenor of an alto saxophone not weakly reminiscent of his adult contemporary (and, as of this posting, alleged alter-ego), Kenneth Bruce Gorelick.

Inaugural ALDLAND Podcast

So you are sitting there, on your couch (or perhaps chair), unfulfilled. Don’t pretend like it’s not true. And you’re thinking to yourself, my life could be a whole heck of a lot better if ALDLAND started doing weekly (bi-weekly?) podcasts. Well start listening to the beginning of your new life. This week, new contributor Chris Cunico drops by to discuss European soccer and the beginning of the MLB season. Listen, weep with joy, and begin eagerly awaiting the next in what is hopefully a long line of ALDLAND podcasts.

_______________________________

Download the first ALDLAND podcast at our Podcasts Page or stream it right here:

The DET Offensive: Brennan Boesch’s Birthday

The Tigers got back to their winning ways this afternoon after a disappointing ninth inning yesterday in which Justin Verlander finally was allowed to sow the seeds of his own defeat by coming back to beat the Rays 7-2. Fresh-faced rookie Drew Smyly– filling in for the injured Doug Fister– struggled early but found his bearings long enough for Brennan Boesch to drive in four runs and secure the win.

“Today was a lot of fun,” Boesch said. “It’s my birthday, and we’re going to have a fun flight to Chicago.”

I suppose that could mean a lot of things. If my coworkers and I all were millionaires, though, a birthday party on an airplane might not be so bad, especially if you like gladiator movies.

_____________________________________________

Previously
The DET Offensive: Tigers open 2012 season with Sawks sweep – 4/9

The final 00:05.1 of Game 1 of Red Wings and Predators is all you need to see

Bdoyk asked me during the game whether I felt any split allegiances. I certainly have a love of Nashville that probably comes through in some of my posts on this site, but the Red Wings are an erstwhile pillar of my comprehensive sports worldview, and I can’t imagine anything that would ever change that.

That said, Shea Weber erased any doubts that may have lingered with his move on Henrik Zetterberg at the end of Game 1 last night.

The Predators shrugged off the move after the game, while the Wings appear to be letting it stew internally. Detroit fans can only hope that this is the sort of thing that will energize their team into the juggernaut of yore, allowing them to steal Game 2 on the road before returning to the much friendlier confines of Joe Louis Arena.

The Invaders: A racetrack, a killing, and the history of organized crime in Hot Springs, Arkansas (via Grantland)

Read More …*
 
(via Grantland)
 
_________________________________________
 
* I usually excerpt an enticing portion of these longer pieces to get readers to click through and read them. In this case, though, there wasn’t any brief quotation that would serve those purposes, so I’m leaving it to the title and that photograph. The article is more of a (very) short story with two merging temporal threads told in the author’s own, somewhat distant, voice. A good way to pass your lunch break, for example.

Don’t make me hate you, Adam Moerder

On Grantland’s sports blog, The Triangle, Adam Moerder has a post today entitled “Don’t Make Me Hate You, Detroit Tigers.” The uninspired text-drop begins with what actually is a fairly bold proposition: “More than any other MLB team, the Tigers probably have the best odds of becoming a dynasty this decade.” Moerder quickly confesses, “that thought sickened me.”

Why? A Tigers’ dynasty, Moerder asserts, “would be a pretty boring, hollow accomplishment.” Because? Because Moerder thinks it’s likely, apparently. In other words, Moerder is bored (sickened!) by his own prediction. If he feels that way, why strike ahead with the rest of his post? Because sickening boredom is only a stop on the path to hate.

Most sports critics hate teams with neglectful, disinterested owners who do little more than bleed their organizations for cash and refuse to lift a finger towards making an effort to build a winning franchize. The trouble here is that Moerder hates the Tigers because their owner actually is willing to spend money to improve his team. He fashions the Tigers some sort of Rust-Belt Yankees who bought a lineup of expensive free agents (“there’s no elegance”!), except that that doesn’t accurately describe how this team was built, and he even admits that their farm system is strong (a weak one is hate-worthy in his book).

“Boring” also cannot be a characteristic of a team that includes Justin Verlander, Prince Fielder, Jose Valverde, Miguel Cabrera, postseason heroes like Don Kelly, almost-eccentrics like Delmon Young (and, by association, his more borderline-eccentric brother, Dimitri Young), and an entertaining manager in Jim Leyland.

Moerder closes by repeating that he finds the Tigers’ “roster be constructed in an aesthetically unpleasing manner.” He hinted at this earlier, when he wrote that “the current infield defense, led by Miguel Cabrera at third (!), is an abomination.” It’s an abomination because it reminds Moerder of an “amoral” (not immoral, mind you) video game world he experienced two decades ago. That’s really what he wrote. A virtual lack of elegance indeed. He also said the roster “reeks of hubris,” and only one of those words has been accurately used to describe Detroit in the last thirty years. Please.

Since Moerder can’t even express what he doesn’t like, attempting to figure out what he does like probably is pretty fruitless, but it seems to have something to do with an environment of baseball competition in which a down-and-out team can get its act together by building a winner through development of its prospects and some “elegant” acquisitions. If he were to grab a little perspective, he might really like this team out of Detroit.

What a waste of e-space.

____________________________________

While reading Moerder’s non-sequitorious and circularly inconclusive chaff, Justin Verlander and the Tigers blew a 2-0 shutout in the top of the ninth against the D-Rays and suffered their first loss of the season in a game in which former Tiger Fernando Rodney got the save, so you can bet that I didn’t proofread the above, although I’d contend I still put more thought into it than Moerder put into his bit.

On baseball and energy policy: A word (and a graph) from the Chicago School

Matt McKenna writes:

What, then, is the primary driver of rising fuel costs? The answer, while difficult to capitalize on politically, is straightforward: since 1998, the major contributor to the price of gas has been an aging Chicago White Sox ball club.

To illustrate the point, the price of gas has increased from $1.44 in 1998 to $3.94 in 2012, adjusted for March 2012 dollars. The consistency of this rise allows us to rule out the political affiliation, environmental consciousness, and personal motives of any particular President as a major factor. Clearly, something bigger is at work here.

Over that same time period, the Chicago White Sox have gone from a roster with an average age of 26.85 years in 1998 to 29.2 years in 2011. Due to the White Sox’ magnificent World Series victory in 2005, concern over rising ages and fuel costs didn’t particularly bother White Sox fans or Americans at large. And nor should they have–Jerry Reinsdorf and Kenny Williams built some good teams between 2000 and 2005.

Since 2005, however, White Sox teams have been generally mediocre and, as the chart above indicates, getting older. By 2010, the average age of a White Sox player was up to 29.8 years, the fourth highest in the league. By 2011, the price of gas skyrocketed to $3.58 a gallon, and it is no wonder why.

The baffling twist to the Republican’s faux fusillade on Barack Obama’s energy policy is that they actually do have a legitimate gripe on the subject, even if they fail to recognize it: Barack Obama is the world’s most powerful White Sox fan. Obama was an Illinois State Senator between 1997 and 2004 and a U.S. Senator between 2005 and 2008. It was during these years that, while occasionally punctuated with brilliant baseball, the White Sox slowly aged and created the situation in which we currently find ourselves mired: $3.94 for a gallon of gas. One would think Obama might have held enough sway with Chicago’s sports leadership to successfully warn them of the national impact of signing big contracts for aging, once-great players.

The bottom line is that the President has little influence on gas prices outside of calling up Chicago White Sox General Manager Kenny Williams and demanding fresh talent be brought up from the minors to replace the pricey veterans on the current squad. Looking at the 2012 roster, perhaps that’s exactly what has happened–the average age for a White Sox player has dropped to 28.1 years. That may not be a big enough decrease to bring the price of oil down to a reasonable level, but it certainly can’t hurt. And who knows, maybe these young guys can hit.

Read the full piece at McSweeney’s, which also includes this graph:

Keep these trends in mind when the team from Motor City travels to face off against the White Sox in a three-game set this weekend.