NEW YORK, NY – Welcome to a soggy midweek here in the New York Metropolitan area. “Remote Work” seems like it was made for just this type of weather… now if only I can get employers to agree with me. Newman on Seinfeld had it right: there’s just no good reason to be out trudging around in the rain. Before we jump into sports, I’d be terribly remiss if I didn’t wish a Happy Belated Birthday to my good friend, fellow long-suffering Vikings fan, and lousy Oakland A’s supporter, JG Clancy. Hope it was a good one, Amigo!
So, since my post last week, a couple of things I mentioned have come to pass.
No Russ, No Fuss. Yessiree, the Denver Broncos have finally decided to polish off that not-quite-six-foot sh!t sandwich they made themselves a couple of years back. What do you drink to wash down the final $85 million of the abomination that was/is Russell Wilson? Since it’s Denver, I’m guessing a couple thousand gallons of Orange Crush should do the trick.
See Ya, Saquon! Sounds like, not at all surprisingly, the New York Football Giants will not be franchise-tagging running back Saquon Barkley again. It will be interesting to see where he latches on. I had mentioned Houston, and it sounds like Barkley is pretty interested in them as well. Question is, do they want him? Anyway, for now, it’s anybody’s guess what the Giants are going to look like next year, I mean besides a friggin’ mess.
Zack Wheeler Gets Paid… Again! Entering the final year of a 5-year deal that paid him $118 million, former Met Zach Wheeler is about to double his annual income by signing a 3-year, $126 million extension with the Phillies. Even as someone who roots for the New York Mets (and despises Philly), it’s hard not to find humor in the fact that they consistently bet on the wrong horses when it comes to their starting pitching. They keep the guys who get injured and set others free to flourish elsewhere (not so fast there, deGrom). I think it can be traced to when they traded Tom Seaver to the Reds. It’s time we gave this curse a name: The Midnight Massacre Mojo Mush.
Kissin’ Cousins… Goodbye. I’m probably jinxing the whole thing by even mentioning it, but it appears that Kirk Cousins and the Minnesota Vikings might finally be parting company. I want to be the first to wish him continued middling success in Atlanta or New England or wherever he ends up. As for the Vikings, it is my sincere hope that they can FINALLY actually draft a franchise quarterback. I mean, 60+ years is a long time… and you traded that guy, only to trade back for him. I know it’s in your organizational DNA but, don’t screw this up, Minnesota.
Rock ‘Em Sock Em’ Rempe. In the “everything old is new again” department, the New York Rangers are single-handedly—actually, double-fistedly—resurrecting NHL brawling, in the form of 6′ 8″ Lurch-with-an-Anger-Disorder forward, Matt Rempe. The other night this guy, who the Rangers probably found on Monster Island or Easter Island, went toe-to-toe at center ice with Toronto Maple Leafs peacenik Ryan Reaves. To say Rempe had a reach advantage is an understatement; the guy has the wingspan of a 747. He held his own and also took a few good shots. Not sure how long the NHL is gonna be cool with this return to “old time hockey,” but if the kid is gonna stick around, he should really consider losing the plastic visor. Be fair and give them a clean shot at your mug, young man.
OK, I’m done for today. Come back tomorrow for the sensitive sports poetry of Buddy Diaz.
