Baseball's fall classic is nearly upon us and my thoughts can't help but run to the sport full of mysticism and metaphysics, faith and the occult. After all, seamheads love the romance of baseball. But what they love even more than all that treacly sentimentality are their curses -- the Curse of the Billy Goat, the Curse of the Bambino, the Curse of the Black Sox, the Curse of Rocky Colavito and the Curse of the Cowboy (how were those for obscure curses for yinz?)
Personally, I don't cotton to curses or karma. I don't subscribe to the belief that mystical forces are afoot in the real world, with fairies and trolls wreaking havoc in our daily lives. I don't believe in god and if I did believe in god, I'm pretty sure he or she would be far too busy with other things than to worry about torturing the fanbase of this or that particular sports franchise.
Showing posts with label Winter Classic. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Winter Classic. Show all posts
Sunday, October 16, 2011
The Curse of the Winter Classic Sweaters: A Call to Action!
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
NBC's Grade for the Winter Classic: F. Minus. Minus.
I'm fairly certain a bunch of kids from CAPA would have done a better job producing the game.
I've seen better filmed high school football games on local yokel stations in East Jabeebers, Pa.
NBC. No Broadcasting Competence.
Just this week, I was talking to one of my best friends who happens to be a fan of metal. And by metal, I mean seriously metallic metal, like Norwegian death metal. While I imagine that having somebody drill through my shin with a high speed drill and a mortar bit would be only slightly less pleasant than listening to more than than 10 seconds of Norwegian death metal, the metal thing is his thing and I have to admit I kinda love him for it. Knowing this about him, I foolishly sent him a link to a Kid Cudi video. He responded that it was perhaps the very worst music he had ever heard in his life.
Why does he like it music that makes my eardrums ache just to think about? Beats me. Why do I like the soul revival? I have not a clue. But should he start listening to different music because I like it? Should I start collecting Carpathian Forest records because he does? Am I a closed-minded person because I don't like metal? Is he a bad person because he doesn't like rap? It's all subjective. Neither one of us is wrong. We just shouldn't take any long road trips together, or there will be blood.
All of which is my roundabout way of saying I have no desire to listen to Doc Emrick ever call a hockey game, under any circumstance. Ever. Emrick is the equivalent of black metal/death metal to my ears.
I have no doubt that Emrick has forgotten more about hockey than I'll ever know. He's spent his entire life around the game. His love for the sport is obvious. In short, I think he's a pretty good guy, a fan of hockey and his heart is in the right place, but ...
That said, Emrick is a competent announcer and the New Year's Day broadcast was one of the worst I've ever heard. I'm going to lay that at the feet of the NBC production team. I'm sure the last pre-production meeting went something like this:
"Now, Doc, you know, it's raining and we're OUTSIDE. Out! Side!"
"I know we're outside. It's the Winter Classic. By definition, it's held outside."
"Right, right. But, Doc, I don't think you understand. It's outside, see. And there's weather. It's kinda warm. And its supposed to rain. And we're outside for that! So, you know, I want you to hit that."
"How much? I mean, how often do you want me to mention it?"
"Every single time you open your mouth."
"You're kidding?"
"No. Dead serious. Talk about the weather the whole time. Okay guys, let's go. Good show tonight! Good show!"
Then there was the actual filming. I realize there are limitations in terms of filming at Heinz Field, versus the Consol Center or even the old barn, but on at least 15 occasions, the cameras lost track of the action altogether. They also deployed some weird, swooping fish eye lens from time to time. And they kept returning to an overhead shot that was so far from the ice, I think the camera was placed on Mars. Did anybody involved ever work a hockey game before? Even another sporting event? It looked like they just pulled the crew who usually films "The Biggest Loser," paid them in Power Bars and smoothies and set them to work.
To think, this is the game that the NHL thinks can hook new fans. Maybe it would hook fans of overwrought, self-indulgent indie film, but not anybody who has any interest in actually, you know, watching a sporting event.
The Pens play the Lightning tonight. Mercifully, the game is on FSN Pittsburgh. Sweet relief.
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