Angry Ward Wednesday: Giants Afloat, Jim Dolan Bloat, The Post-Holiday Sports Blahs

Jim Dolan naps.

NEW YORK, NY – It’s a cold, wet January evening as I write this. The kinda night when you just want to tune out and tuck into bed, but Management won’t let me. Even though the holidays are over, sports keeps slogging along. Sorry I missed the Rose Bowl–heard it was a barn-burner–but not so much that I missed most of the others. Didn’t bother with any of the holiday NBA or hockey either because, well, they were played on Christmas and New Year’s. The NFL playoffs start this weekend and, besides wanting Green Bay to lose, I feel somewhat ambivalent about them as well. Clearly I’m dealing with some sort of sports seasonal affective disorder. Here goes nothing.

Giants Boat Trip. Ben Whitney alluded to the Giants’ receivers trip to Miami yesterday, and I agree that it’s a non-story. But, if you wanted to make it a story it would mostly be about why they chose to hang out with Justin Bieber and dress like they were all auditioning to be the Construction Worker dude in The Village People. Still, it’s 2017, and what you choose to do on your day off is okay by me.

Jim Dolan Still an Idiot. This isn’t really any kind of news. His latest bad publicity coup was holding a post-Christmas meeting with the Radio City Music Hall Rockettes in an effort to convince them that they really should perform at President Trump’s inauguration. Not surprisingly, many of them aren’t too keen on the idea. When one dancer piped up: “I mean, it just sounds like you’re asking us to be tolerant of intolerance.” He responded, “Yeah, in a way, I guess we are doing that.” I’m sure they would rather perform for his OTHER sexual harassment buddy, Isiah Thomas.

Happy New Uro! I sincerely hope that my Christmas present for Short Matt arrived on time. For someone who’s had a rich history of public “accidents,” I’m hoping that the Uro Club comes in handy on the links, beach, subway, anywhere. Use it in good health.

Mariah Meltdown. Am I the only one who doesn’t give two craps about Mariah Carey’s New Year’s Eve lip sync fail? Seriously, who the hell cares? Aren’t all of these performances universally known to be as phony as pro wrestling? They should just let the artists come out in their pretty outfits and strut around stage drinking booze as their songs play. I’m far more amazed by the sheer number of morons employed by the NFL, particularly by DJ Eberle’s Buffalo Bills. Hey, didn’t he predict that they would go to the playoffs this year? Funny how he seems to cherry pick what predictions he “chooses to remember” at season’s end. Someone (ahem, JG Clancy) should start keeping track. I kid.

Hope everyone had a happy and safe New Year’s. Finally, a fond farewell to staff writer (and lifelong friend) Cheesy Bruin’s sister, Lynn, who passed away early New Year’s Day. You think you’re a sports fanatic? You should have heard that girl go on and on and on about her beloved Dallas Cowboys. Rest in peace, L.

Okay, that’s all for me this week. Come back tomorrow for the smooth stylings of Buddy “Buenos Diaz. And please follow us on Twitter, @Angry_Ward & @MeetTheMatts, Instagram @MeetTheMatts and like our Facebook page, Meet The Matts.

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About Angry Ward 751 Articles
Angry Ward, who has admirers at the New York Times, is the quintessential angry sports fan but for one exception... he's flat-out funny. And the angrier he gets, the more amusing his work becomes. Psychiatrists say, "Angry Ward's 'anger' is a direct result of "Bronx/Mets syndrome: growing up in the Bronx as a Mets fan." As if that weren't enough, his Minnesota North Stars abandoned him for Dallas, forcing him to embrace The Wild the way Nancy Pelosi embraces Mitch McConnell at charity events. And while his Vikings only tease him with success, his Golden State Warriors actually win these days. A-Dubya is MTM's longest-tenured indentured servant, its Larry David and quite simply, "The Franchise." (Junoir Blaber disputes this). Vent, curse and giggle with him on Angry Ward Wednesdays.