Turns Out This Was My Fantasy

I'm sure you all remember this post about how I evaluated my draft class at the start of the fantasy baseball season. A few things:

• Michael Young was God-awful
• I dumped Adam Dunn before he could destroy my batting average single-handed
• I accidentally dropped Brian McCann and had to go with a patchwork of Jarrod Saltalamacchia, Wilin Rosario, Jesus Montero, Salvador Perez, Russell Martin, and Yasmani Grandal at catcher
• I haven't had an effective Cub on my team since Sammy Sosa's 2003 campaign

Well, you will be happy to learn that I overcame my blunders and won this highly competitive league, ensuring me the top prize of $350 and more importantly my name and team, "Horatio Caine," engraved on our trophy (yes, we got it before The League was a thing and physical trophies started popping up everywhere). The standings were close all through September and October, with the top three teams each having a legitimate chance at winning it all.

"Whorin' n Storen" had a juggernaut. His four corner infielders were Miguel Cabrera, Prince Fielder, Chase Headley, and Edwin Encarnacion (out of FRIGGIN' NOWHERE) to complement Adam Jones and Mike Trout (whom he drafted, props are due for that move) in the outfield, which adds up to the best offensive club on paper by far. His staff was dominant as well, milking Stephen Strasburg for all he was worth, and carrying Cole Hamels, Chris Sale, Chris Capuano, and trading for Felix Hernandez. What he lacked, however, was attention to detail. He tinkered with his lineup far less regularly than the other top teams, and finished 112.1 pitching innings under the cap. That's a lot of room to make up when it comes to counting stats, and he just couldn't overcome the mediocre point totals for wins, saves, and strikeouts.

My other main competition this season was "The Immaculates," possibly the creepiest fantasy sports team name ever. The owner, who will be the best man at my wedding in four months, has dominated both our football and baseball leagues over the years. He didn't have the firepower that "Whorin'" or I had, but he massaged his roster into the best it could be. During the 199 roster moves he made this year, I think only Matt Kemp and David Wright survived the entire season. My hats off to him for unreal levels of want. His moves on the final three days of the season were a thing of beauty, as he needed to balance grasping at wins with keeping his WHIP intact, as well as hitting for average, stealing bases, and driving in runs. His superfecta almost hit, as a mere three RBI more would have resulted in a shared title. I was nervous until the standings were finalized the morning of October 4th.

After my victory, most of my friends congratulated me, of course. But I could tell most of them were choking back their own resentment. One said to me just last week, "So what's going on with baseball?" He will not be receiving an invitation come spring. But one of my good friends seemed genuinely happy for me, and asked me a question I had not considered -- "Who is your MVP?" I honestly did not know.

Through trades and injuries, I didn't have anyone really excel for the whole season. Before Yahoo! archived the season and the team log was lost to the annals of time, I captured some of the stat lines from my active roster I felt directly contributed to my victory:

Hitters
Name	POS	GP	R	HR	RBI	SB	AVG
Jason Kipnis	2B	149	84	14	76	31	.257
Ryan Zimmerman	3B	145	93	25	95	5	.282
Joey Votto	1B	111	59	14	56	5	.337
Giancarlo Stanton	OF	107	69	37	81	6	.293
Adam Dunn	1B/OF	94	60	30	71	1	.211
Adrian Gonzalez	1B/OF	89	41	13	71	2	.329
Allen Craig	1B/2B/OF	58	33	7	41	1	.325
Bryce Harper	OF	53	34	7	20	11	.270
Todd Frazier	1B/3B	40	23	7	27	2	.301
Marco Scutaro	2B/SS/3B	20	14	2	13	0	.375

For some reason I didn't include Carlos Beltran's monster two months on my team, and his totals are now lost to the annals of time (THANKS YAHOO!). I include Scutaro because at the end of the season, when Emilio Bonifacio went down with yet another injury, I was able to snap up Scutaro and keep pace in batting average.

Pitchers
Name	IP	W	SV	K	ERA	WHIP
Jered Weaver	188.2	20	0	142	2.82	1.02
Justin Verlander	148.2	11	0	142	2.42	0.92
Brandon Morrow	117	9	0	105	2.69	1.06
Max Scherzer	99.1	9	0	120	2.81	1.06
Rafael Soriano	51.2	0	40	54	2.09	1.05
Tom Wilhelmsen	51.1	3	29	50	1.23	0.92
Brett Myers	35.1	0	19	25	3.06	1.27
Hisashi Iwakuma	28.1	3	0	25	1.59	1.20
Alex Cobb	23	3	0	20	0.78	0.70

Myers was important as an SP-eligible closer for the first half of the season. Iwakuma and Cobb were late-season spot starters who worked out beautifully.

Interesting numbers, to be sure. All of the major contributors have their faults, however. Votto's counting stats where lacking, even when he was healthy. Kipnis kept me alive in steals and plugged a huge hole at second, but that batting average is troubling. Stanton and Morrow couldn't stay on the field. Weaver's strikeout totals weren't what I expected. Verlander had a rough stretch with wins before I traded him. The closers are, well, closers. So the question remains, who is the MVP?

Time to dig deeper. Maybe someone I acquired down the stretch provided that boost I needed to win the league. Let's break down my trade history:

• Preseason: J.J. Hardy for Cameron Maybin. Meh.
• Preseason: Nick Swisher for Emilio Bonifacio. I needed speed, and a shortstop after the Hardy trade, so getting Boni was great for my team makeup. Unfortunately he missed two long stretches, during which Kipnis was basically my only consistent stolen base threat.
• Preseason: Neil Walker / J.J. Putz for Jason Kipnis / Frank Francisco. I've already detailed how great Kipnis was, and he only cost me Walker and a closer flop. Me gusta.
• 25 April: Colby Rasmus / Adam Wainwright for Giancarlo Stanton. Wainwight ended up having a good year. I thought he might break down, which is why I dealt him, but his July and August were sparkling. Based on Stanton's spotty health, this was probably a wash.
• 23 May: Frank Francisco for Bryce Harper. I acquired Bryce for his talent, plus as a bonus I got to see him play live here in DC. After he arrived on the scene, I parlayed him into a bigger trade. Outright thievery on my part.
• 22 June: Carlos Beltran / Jordan Zimmermann for Adrian Gonzalez / Max Scherzer. I absolutely loved this trade at the time. Beltran was playing way over his head, and I thought Zimmermann might fatigue (as I did with Wainwright, notice a trend?). Both of them had two bad months out of the final three. Meanwhile, Mad Max became my staff ace, while A-Gon racked up the RBI. Woot.
• 26 July: Adam Dunn for Edwin Jackson. Something for nothing, since I considered dropping Dunn at the time. A home run every three games is nice, but that batting average...
• 26 July: Justin Verlander / Bryce Harper for Mark Teixeira / Carlos Gonzalez. I was overloaded with pitching, so losing Verlander wasn't that bad. Or so I thought. CarGo was good when he played, but never at the MVP-caliber level I was paying for. Stick a fork in Tex, I think he's cooked. Looking back, I think it was my worst trade.
• 30 July: Martin Prado / Michael Young / Kevin Youkilis for Allen Craig / Todd Frazier. My last and probably trickiest trade of the season. People love name recognition, and all three guys I dealt have some degree of it. But Prado was hitting for almost no power, Young was terrible, and I picked Youk up off waivers after he landed with the White Sox. In trying to parlay that group into something useful, I recognized the amount of plate appearances Craig and Frazier were getting due to injuries to Lance Berkman and Votto, respectively. Craig also had eligibility at 2B and filled the hole I had at MI after four months of Young. Both Craig and Frazier were plus players in four categories for much of the final two months, and having Craig at MI and a Frazier/Votto tandem at 1B was a huge boost to my offense.

In my estimation, two trades netting four players -- Adrian Gonzalez, Max Scherzer, Allen Craig, and Todd Frazier -- made the difference between winning and losing. So do I pick four co-MVPs?

Thinking back on the season, with it's six month-long grind, there was only one constant. It was my undying devotion to the sport. From March to October, I looked at my team's page literally every day, through birthdays, anniversaries, vacations, weddings, sick days, busy work days, days when all I wanted to do was sit on the couch playing NHL 12... you get the idea. So there is only one conclusion I can draw from my championship season.

I am the MVP.

Dat face...

The play:

The close-up:

THE FACE:

(Thanks to CJ Fogler)

Review: The Legend of Zelda: The Minish Cap

After finishing Final Fantasy XIII-2, I didn't play any new video games for a while. First of all, my spirit was crushed by the weight of Square Enix's complete and utter failure. Also, the weather was finally nice enough to actually go out-of-doors with regularity. I did pick up Civilization V, which I enjoyed quite a bit but found the replay value surprisingly lacking. I even went back to an old stalwart, Heroes of Might and Magic III, which I'm happy to report I still play every so often. But eventually I decided on continuing down the Zelda timeline and playing through my first handheld game in years, The Legend of Zelda: The Minish Cap. It only took me a couple of weeks to explore everything, even with working full-time and five fantasy football drafts to plan for, but no one expects massive amounts of content from an eight-year-old handheld game. What I did expect was vintage Zelda gameplay in bite-size form, and in that, The Minish Cap delivers with aplomb.

Consistently crisp and refreshing, the Zelda franchise satisfies. No, it's not a beer or a candy bar.

I loved the look and feel of The Minish Cap almost immediately. It reeks of an updated Link's Awakening (which I played and replayed religiously as a kid) and the plot continues the threads from Skyward Sword. This was my first experience with game developer Flagship, a subsidiary of Capcom who also worked on Four Swords and the two Oracle games. Their expertise in handheld gaming is evident, as the nuts and bolts of The Minish Cap all feel right. The scale and graphics are wonderful, the controls feel natural, and the dungeons and tasks are short enough that the player won't run out of battery life just before a boss fight. Keeping things short and sweet on a handheld platform is essential, and director Hidemaro Fujibayashi and his team accomplish that goal extremely well.

As mentioned above, The Minish Cap begins with a nod to the world of Skyward Sword. The introduction tells of darkness descending on the land of Hyrule long ago, when a race of very small creatures called the Picori came from the skies (possibly alluding to Skyloft) to bestow a sword and a golden light on a young hero. The hero banished the darkness, locking the evil beings in a bound chest, and the Picori Blade was enshrined by the people of Hyrule. Every year since, they remember the gifts of the Picori in an annual festival. Seems like a standard backstory, but there are two things I appreciate. First, it hints at an untold story of a former Link, one whose adventures would take place between Skyward Sword and The Minish Cap. As the Zelda franchise has grown and changed over the years, Nintendo has done a nice job of tying together themes and stories, and I wouldn't be surprised to see a future Zelda title cover the Picori's initial trip to Hyrule and the hero they encountered. Second, it tells the story of a legendary sword other than the Master Sword, which as we eventually learn in other games, is tucked away in the Sealed Grounds. Instead, the Picori Blade is Link's weapon of choice, and The Minish Cap details how it eventually becomes the Four Sword. It's a fun little story, perfect for both the setting and the handheld console.

I always love way-epic stained glass windows.

More after the jump...

Ben Kweller at 9:30 Club: 19 October 2012

In March of 2011, in an effort to get my then-girlfriend (and now-fiancée) Laura interested in some of my music, I bought two tickets to see Pete Yorn play 9:30 Club here in DC. I figured she, being from North Carolina and with an affinity for country and folk music, would really like some of Yorn's stuff. The good news is she really enjoyed the show. The bad news is she was lukewarm on Yorn, and instead fell in love with his opening act, Ben Kweller. In her defense, Yorn was a bit lethargic that night, while Kweller cranked his furious energy and Texas twang up to eleven. I must confess I didn't know much about Kweller that night. But after the show was over and we made our customary stop at the merch table, we both came home and iTunesed (is that a verb?) most of Kweller's discography, and I'm happy to say any lingering disappointment I had when she didn't like Pete's performance was swept away almost immediately.

Flash forward to this summer, when during one of my customary checks of tour dates I discovered that Kweller was returning to 9:30, only this time he would be the headliner. Needless to say I bought tickets right then and there. As the concert date approached, our enthusiasm swelled, and by the time we were at the venue listening to Lissy Rosemont of the Junior League Band finish up, it was uncontrollable.

Now, earlier in the week, I read this on Twitter:

FRIDAY: I'm performing @930club in DC! me, you, piano, guitar. Taking requests! I can't wait! Get your tix here: ticketfly.com/purchase/event…
— Ben Kweller (@benkweller) October 15, 2012

I figured the "me, you, piano, guitar" portion was only referencing that he is both a skilled pianist and guitarist. But the show was literally just that -- he performed alone (save for a brief guest spot from Lissy Rosemont) and there were only two guitars and one piano at his disposal.

But no one cared. Kweller, as he did last year, oozed energy and confidence throughout the show. He opened with a track off his latest album Go Fly a Kite called "Mean to Me," which he restarted twice due to some problems with his effects pedals. But even that couldn't slow him down, and he tore through his early set with some wicked guitar licks and enthusiastic vocals. At 31 years old, Kweller still has the baby face of an idealistic young musician from a small Southern town. On stage that night, he even looked like a teenager, complete with sleeveless denim jacket, ripped jeans, and a mullet-like mop-top brimming with wavy curls. One gets the sense that he hasn't changed much from his early days in Texas -- he's still the rock and roll outsider expressing himself through infectious hooks and thoughtful ballads. Only now he has found his audience.

Kweller kept it going with some of his more well-known songs from his first major record, Sha Sha. "Wasted & Ready" and "Falling" were particularly good, as he hopped between piano and guitar seamlessly. But at some point in the middle of his set, he moved on to a combination of lesser known tracks and requests shouted from the audience. I guess that's the advantage to his one-man format -- Kweller was able to completely change his set mid-concert, stop songs on a dime, and generally do whatever the fuck he wanted. This was never more evident than during a track from his self-titled third album, "Until I Die":



Kweller invited any audience member with a set of keys to come up on stage and mimic the jingle bells, cymbals, and triangles from the studio version. It wasn't the greatest auditory product in the world, but everyone involved seemed really pumped to be a part of it, including Kweller himself.

The show marched on at a furious pace. In fact, I remember very little of the setlist order because I was having such a good time. I do remember songs in bunches. "Sundress" and "In Other Words" showcased Kweller's piano and vocal chops. "Jealous Girl," another song off his new record, was heartfelt and seems just a little bit autobiographical, which is also true for "Commerce, TX." He gave a shout out to Evan Dando with his cover of "My Drug Buddy." "Hospital Bed" got the crowd singing along towards the end of the show, and by the time Lissy Rosemont joined him for "Fight," I only wanted to hear one more song. He delivered, and closed his finale with "Penny on the Train Track," although for a song that is such a tour de force, only having one performer sapped the energy just a bit. But I can't complain. The show was awesome, and I'm already lobbying hard for Kweller to come back to 9:30 on his next East Coast swing.

The Afghan Whigs at 9:30 Club: 28 September 2012

It's hard to describe exactly what genre of music Greg Dulli makes. In fact, the Afghan Whigs remind me of Led Zeppelin in that regard. Sure, at their core they both made rock music. But the product is so much more. While Zep's sound was heavy on jazz and folk influences, the Afghan Whigs are very much soul and lounge music, and I mean that in the best possible way. It's a brand of rock that is sensual, highly literate, and equally effective at any volume. So I wasn't quite sure what to expect when seeing them for the first time in the small but usually raucous 9:30 Club. Would they pull it back in a live setting, and really connect with the audience? Or would they crank it up to eleven? The answer was a little bit of both.

First of all, the show was the first time in my roughly two-dozen trips to 9:30 that I completely missed the opening act. My fiancée Laura was working late that night, and I wanted to wait for her so we could grab dinner together. Once we polished off CalTort and I got caught up watching way too much of Mississippi Burning, Laura was nice enough to drop me off at the venue. I don't think I missed much though, as I clicked through some of School of Seven Bells' songs on iTunes and wasn't terribly impressed. Anyway, by the time I arrived and had a cold Amstel in hand, the house lights were already dimming.

Greg Dulli is a force of nature. Despite any criticisms I have for the show, above all else I'm glad I was able to witness him perform live. He could have been playing Death Cab or Pomplamoose songs and he would own them, rock them in the best possible way, and the crowd would have loved it. But he began the night with his own stuff (we'll get to the covers later), the classic "Crime Scene Part One," and rightly so. It was great, and it was loud. I mean, really, really, really fucking loud. Maybe I'm just getting too old, but it was the first concert at which I considered stealing someone's earplugs. The Whigs kept the volume up though, churning through some of my old favorites, especially "Uptown Again" and "What Jail is Like." "Jail" in particular was moving, and at this point Dulli and his band were dripping with sweat, feeding off of the energy of the crowd.

But as all great performers do, they took it down a notch, accomplishing this by mixing some of their original songs with snippets of covers. The highlight of this section was "See and Don't See," an obscure soul track by Marie "Queenie" Lyons that the Whigs covered in studio and is available for free download. I can't say I've heard the original, but they've really made it their own, and once again the crowd loved it. Unfortunately, this is where the show lost me. As they ramped the energy back up, I was hoping for a heavy dose of songs from 1965 to close the show. Unfortunately I only got one, "Citi Soleil," as they chose to stick with their earlier work. Near the end of the set, Dulli discussed his feelings on the modern state of the encore with the crowd. "Encore is a word whose French origins come from motherfuckers going crazy. Currently, encore seems to mean, 'They are coming back.' Well, we ain't coming back unless it's the motherfucking French version of encore which is, 'We played our asses off,'" he said. So as they departed the stage and the lights remained low, the crowd went pretty bonkers. (But we all knew they were coming back.)

And come back they did. Now, at this point, I was there for one reason and one reason only -- to hear "Omerta / The Vampire Lanois." I was following set lists of recent shows, and the Whigs had a decent record of closing their encores with those two songs. But once again, they whiffed (in my opinion), opting for three songs off Black Love mixed in with a few Prince covers. It was still enjoyable, all things considered, but I couldn't help but feel disappointed I missed out on hearing my top four or five favorite Afghan Whigs songs. After the encore concluded, I stood there with a handful of others, clapping and shouting away, hoping they would come back for a second encore. No dice.

Finally, I am sad to say that my brother-in-law Matthew, who is the biggest Afghan Whigs fan I know and had a ticket to the show, was unable to make it down from Manhattan. I know he hated missing it. But the good news is his brother Max was able to come, along with his lovely wife Erin. It was great to hang out with them both, if only for a short while after the show, and I hope to see them again soon.

Washington Capitals 2012 Off-season

A 7-0-0 start. A 3-7-1 skid. A head coach fired. A legend brought in to replace him. Mediocrity. A team on the brink of missing the playoffs with under a week left in the season. A career-low point total for a superstar. The seventh seed. Two injured goaltenders. A first round upset of the defending Stanley Cup champions. A rookie takes the league by storm. Another second round exit.

It was an up-and-down season for the Washington Capitals. But as with all sports teams who don't get a parade, there's always next season. I'll take my best shot at sizing up the Caps roster, depth, strengths, and weakness for the eventual 2012-13 season. The key word here being "eventual," as NHL commissioner and woodland imp Gary Bettman has allowed the collective bargaining agreement between the player's association and the owners to expire for the third time in his nineteen-year career. Thanks a boatload, G-Betts.

DO NOT WANT.

[Note: Before reading my little piece of the internet, please read the analysis and opinions of those much more knowledgeable on these subjects than I am, notably Japers' Rink and Russian Machine Never Breaks, statistics from Hockeydb.com and Hockey-Reference.com, and salary info from CapGeek. Many photos taken by Chris Gordon of RMNB.]

-- Coaching --

Dale Hunter was hired as head coach two months into last season. The idea was that a former Caps great would command respect in the locker room, and his defensive system would help Washington win close games, especially in the playoffs. Hunter succeeded in helping the Caps defensively -- they gave up 3.32 goals per game under Bruce Boudreau, and only 2.62 goals per game under Hunter in the regular season. Add in 2.14 goals per game allowed in the playoffs, and it's clear the players bought into his system in their own end. But they also struggled to score goals -- Hunter's Caps scored 2.53 goals per game in the regular season and a measly 2.07 goals per game in the playoffs. This was a recipe for close games, where every contest could be won or lost in a single shift, and every goal scored or defensive breakdown was magnified and scrutinized. While not exactly ideal for my blood pressure, it did enable the Caps to beat a better, more consistent team in Boston. And although their luck ran out in New York, it's hard to blame Dale for trying to do it his way.

Hunter may be gone, but his animated .gifs live on forever.

General manager George McPhee promised that he would take his time during the search for a new head coach, and in truth six weeks went by without anyone in place behind the bench. Earlier, I cautioned against hiring a former legend, as history has shown little correlation between a great playing career and coaching a team to a Stanley Cup. But McPhee decided otherwise, and on June 28th he hired Adam Oates to take Hunter's place. Coincidentally, on that same day, Oates was inducted into the Hockey Hall of Fame for his storied playing career. Oates has some numbers that speak for themselves; 341 goals and 1,079 assists in 1,337 games, along with 42 goals and 114 assists in 163 playoff games, and five All-Star Game appearances. He is sixth all-time in assists. But what he doesn't have is a Stanley Cup, and he must believe Washington is a good place to begin his head coaching career in search of one. He spent the last three seasons as an NHL assistant, first in Tampa Bay and then New Jersey, where he just helped guide the Devils to the Stanley Cup Finals.

Oates has several things in common with Dale; both were centers, both were Capitals captains, both have long, impressive careers, and both looked like famous actors (Oates was a dead ringer for Ray Liotta, and Hunter kind of looks like a cross between Robin Williams and Patrick Swayze). But Oates is an improvement over Hunter in several aspects. First, he most certainly has a more creative offensive mind, and is given credit by the Devils faithful for running their power play and getting star forwards Ilya Kovalcuk and Zach Parise on track amid three head coaches in two years. Also, Oates is a superior communicator, already much more engaging to the DC press than Hunter ever was. How that will translate to the locker room is anyone's guess. Hunter certainly won over the room and was respected as "one of the guys." But in that regard, I'm guessing Oates will do just fine.

"For most, being inducted into the Hall of Fame and getting their first head coaching gig is the most important day of their life. For me... it was Thursday."

Also leaving the team are both of last season's assistants, Dean Evason and Jim Johnson. Evason, the lone holdover from the Boudreau era and the man who encouraged the Caps to "grab [their] fucking sack and fucking compete" in 24/7, was hired by the Nashville organization to be the head coach for their AHL affiliate, the Milwaukee Admirals. It's his first head coaching gig since the 2003-04 season, when he was the bench boss for the WHL's Vancouver Giants, and a great opportunity for Evason. Johnson is changing coasts and will be an assistant to Todd McLellan in San Jose. Along with Larry Robinson, that's quite a formidable coaching staff for the Sharks.

To replace them, McPhee and Oates brought in two familiar faces to the Caps organization. The first is Calle Johansson, the former blueliner who spent fourteen-plus years in Washington and holds the record for most games played in a Caps sweater at 983. Known for his solid two-way game, he played parts of six seasons with Oates, and has one year of coaching experience in his native Sweden. Calle Jo should shoulder much of the defensive responsibilities for the coaching staff next season.

Rocking the red before it was a marketing ploy.

The other assistant coach will be Tim Hunter, who was an assistant to Ron Wilson during Oates and Johansson's playing days. In fact, this will be (the new) Hunter's first NHL coaching job without Wilson also behind the bench. Hunter was known as a rough customer during his playing days, as he twice led the league in penalty minutes and finished his career with 3,146 PIMs in 815 games. His role will likely be to bring toughness, grit, and accountability to the forward ranks, letting Oates handle the offensive playmaking side of things.

Dat nose.

We'll get to the guys actually on the ice after the jump...

What is this I don't even: Part 3

The Washington Capitals 2011-12 season is over. It's a bummer, sure, but I still love my team. When out shopping with my fiancée on Sunday, I took advantage of some good Memorial Day weekend sales. I even bought a brand new Caps hat to wear to Nationals games, so people don't give me shit about my Cubs hats.

When it comes to baseball apparel, Cubs or GTFO. Luckily the Caps and Nats both rock the red.

Since I had so much fun buying a lot of shit for pretty cheap, I thought I might apply that strategy to online retailers, specifically, Shop.NHL.com. And heavens to Betsy, was I wrong to even think that. The NHL's online store is one of the worst offenders when it comes to taking Walmart-quality clothing, slapping a logo or two on it, and charging quadruple its value. But I wanted something specific -- the official players' sweatshirt. Naturally, my navigation went to Washington Capitals >> Mens >> Sweatshirts. Not only was I disappointed to see the sweatshirt was not there, but I was horrified by what was listed instead.

First of all, there are 38 men's sweatshirts available for purchase. Exactly one of them is under $40. This:

KILL IT WITH FIRE.

Two of them are over $100. For a sweatshirt. Look, I don't care if Mitchell wove the fabric and Ness stitched it together, no sweatshirt is worth $100. Twenty of them are between the $54 and $70 range. This is fucking ridiculous, Shop.NHL.com. But wait, it gets better.

Doing a Google search of "capitals players sweatshirts" I found what I was looking for, on the Dick's Sporting Goods online store. Unfortunately, they only had it for one player, Alex Ovechkin. Also, it's only available in home red, and not road white or Winter Classic off-white. Not that I wouldn't want Ovie's home sweatshirt, but options are always a good thing. Then I noticed that Dick's had it listed not under "Men's" but "Player Apparel." So I thought Shop.NHL.com might have pulled the same trick. Sure enough, they did, as this section is entirely composed of shirseys and two -- yes, only two -- hoodies. The first is the official Ovie one I found at Dick's, for the exact same price ($65.) The other is a faded navy and red abortion of a sweatshirt, labeled as "old time hockey" for some unknown reason (I'm guessing it's the laces on the neckline) for $110. No options. No customization. Just something you can find off the rack at Dick's, priced at around double of what it should be.

According to the NHL's official store, this is not categorized as a sweatshirt.

So here is this product I want to buy. I might even pay $40 for it. But it is hard to find on the website, it's only available for one player, there are no customization options or alternate colors, and it's way too expensive. It's bullshit like this that keeps people from buying quality, attractive clothing to support their team. Guess I'll just wait for MoonJersey to get it in stock.

What is this I don't even

On Dale Hunter, Coaching, and Legends

On 28 November 2011, the Washington Capitals fired Bruce Boudreau, arguably the most successful head coach in their 38-year history. After taking the job two months into the 2007-08 season, he piloted the Caps to a division title, and won the Jack Adams Award, only the second in franchise history. In his second full season, the Caps won the Presidents' Trophy, a first for the team. He is the fastest coach to 200 victories in the modern era. His affable personality made him a fan favorite, and he entertained millions with food stains and trips to ice cream parlors in HBO's 24/7 series.

"More offense! Savory, delicious offense!"

Of course, nothing in the paragraph above mentions the postseason. Boudreau had a 2-4 playoff series record in DC, including a 1-3 record in game seven situations, and he never advanced past the second round. His wide-open style, which helped the Capitals score goals in bunches during the regular season, never clicked after the second week of April. The problem with Boudreau was also the manner in which off-seasons in Washington began:

• a home overtime loss in game seven to Philadelphia in 2008
• allowing five straight goals to Pittsburgh in game seven in 2009, also at home
• losing three straight games to eighth seeded Montreal, two at home, and scoring only one goal in each game after going up three games to one, in 2010
• getting swept by Tampa Bay in 2011

Each individual playoff year is different, and it's hard to pinpoint one or two problems that caused all of these losses. And a 17-20 playoff record means that every series (except for Tampa) was winnable. But the cumulative effect of all these playoff exits is pretty embarrassing.

In Boudreau's defense, his 201-88-40 regular season record with the Capitals is downright awesome. Anyone well-versed in statistics would agree that a 37-game sample carries less weight than a 329-game sample. But this isn't mathematics. It doesn't have to be fair or make sense. It's sports. And no one cares about regular season championships.

Bruce Boudreau and the Capitals got off to a pedestrian (by their standards) 12-9-1 start to the season in 2011-12. The coup de grâce was a 3-7-1 run where the Caps averaged just 2.27 goals per game. When all a coach has is regular season accolades and gaudy offensive totals, and no postseason success, they can be subject to heightened scrutiny. In my opinion, the blame placed on Boudreau for the Caps' ills was unfair. General manager George McPhee said that "the players were no longer responding to Bruce," which to me sounded like a convenient excuse. I was reminded of the old sports adage, "it's easier to fire one guy instead of an entire team." So Bruce Boudreau was let go. The Caps needed someone who could win the locker room and get them over the second round hump.

Enter Dale Hunter.

How my dad remembers Dale: the Aragorn of the Capitals.

For those of you unfamiliar with the history of the Washington Capitals, Dale Hunter is the Washington Capitals.

More after the jump...

What is this I don't even: Part 2

Let me get one thing out of the way right now. I like Zooey Deschanel. I think she's cute, a decent singer, and a fine actress. Like many people, I first saw her in Almost Famous and her performance really stuck with me. It's not hard to appear beautiful and talented when the other female lead is Kate Hudson, but I digress.

Zooey is enjoying a nice run of success, stealing hipsters' hearts in (500) Days of Summer and doubling down on her indie cred in Our Idiot Brother. She's even branching out to charm baby boomers by appearing on network television in New Girl. But more often than not, America is seeing her in a commercial for the Apple iPhone 4S:



Great job, Apple. You managed to take one of the most appealing young actresses on Earth and turn her into a helpless buffoon. Look, we all have days where we'd rather not put on real shoes or clean up after ourselves. But is this the demographic you're after? Lazy rich people? Oh wait, it's an Apple commercial, so the answer is obviously yes. Not only is the commercial played ad nauseam, but the first line couldn't be more annoying. "IS THAAAAT RAAAIIN?" Every time I hear it, I want to kick a puppy in the throat.

What is this I don't even

Review: Final Fantasy XIII-2

If you read my review of Final Fantasy XIII, then you know that I had a lot of things to nitpick in that game, especially in terms of good supporting characters and the ability to explore the world at large. So I was encouraged to learn that Square Enix developed and completed Final Fantasy XIII-2 less than two years after the original, with the previous game's shortcomings still fresh in their minds, and also with input from fans across the globe. I admit that it is quite dangerous to let the die-hard Final Fantasy geeks control any actual game content, for fear of skimpy outfits, Sephiroth-esque villains, and general Japanophilia. But I was willing to accept this risk if it meant fixing the glaring flaws of a game and a setting in which I saw so much potential.

Square Enix... fans... you have all let me down.

zomg bigger swordz!!!!11 lol

XIII-2 gets some things right. First and foremost, it keeps largely intact the excellent battle system used in XIII. There are minor tweaks to how the player can control the battle, some good (changing the leader) and some decidedly bad (fewer actions available to playable characters) but it all amounts to a lot of fun. The addition of the Paradigm Pack system, which allows for the player to capture monsters and use them in battle, is excellent. Developing and customizing each monster you catch can be unique and great to experiment with, if you don't mind a bit of farming (and let's be honest -- anyone playing a Final Fantasy game doesn't). And while I have never played any of the Pokemon games (I KNOW RIGHT) I have been assured that it is different enough from that system to pass the originality sniff test, while still keeping some of the series' best monsters.

Familiarity is a good thing.

More after the jump...

Cleveland Browns NFL Draft 2012: Overreaching for Over-Age

Let's be honest. As a Browns fan, I'm used to disappointment in all aspects of a football team. And building through the draft is no different. Cleveland is a team that has made troubling picks over the past, well, forever. Only twice over the past decade have I breathed a sigh of relief after a Browns first-round pick, following the selection of Braylon Edwards (what a tease) and the highlight package for Joe Thomas. I'm no Mel Kiper, but I follow college football pretty closely, and I'd like to think I have a decent understanding of talent, value, and NFL projection. I can usually be impartial (except when it comes to former Alabama players) and I always want what is best for the team. Trading up or taking a blue chip is exciting, and trading down for depth is a bit of a bummer. But the latter is necessary for a successful, sustainable franchise.

That said, I entered this year's NFL Draft with three wishes:

• Take Trent Richardson with the 4th overall pick
• Find a lot of help for the offensive line
• Do not, under any circumstances, select Brandon Weeden

We'll score that as a 1.5 out of 3.

"HURR DURR"

More after the jump...

Nada Surf at 9:30 Club: 10 April 2012

In the midst of a long work week and an upcoming trip out of town, my fiancée and I were pretty beat last Tuesday. And since I had seen Nada Surf live twice before, I wasn't hellbent on going that night. The primary reason for my lack of enthusiasm being their new record, The Stars Are Indifferent To Astronomy, isn't my favorite, and I figured the set list would be new song-heavy. In fact, I gave her the option of punting the whole evening, since she's only familiar with a handful of Nada Surf songs. But she, being the amazingly awesome woman she is, agreed to tough it out for my sake. She's pretty much the best.

It was a cool spring night when we arrived at 9:30, about halfway through the set of the opening act, An Horse. They were okay, and pretty typical for an opener -- poorly mixed, lots of energy, pausing to say "Nada Surf will be out here in a bit, hang tight" between every song. I got the sense that I would be really into them if I were in my college years. They are loud and fast and the lead singer is a chick. (I apologize if "chick" is offensive to you, but being in a rock band is one of the few instances where I still feel it's appropriate.) We heard about three songs, which was just enough for me to polish off a beer and get ready for the main event.

At this point I should mention that when setting up at 9:30, the roadies can take anywhere from 15 to 30 minutes just to get started, and the speed with which they work usually ranges from "that huge tortoise at the National Zoo" to "Jeff Schultz retrieving a puck out of the corner boards." I'm not sure if it's how picky the bands are themselves, or if the venue is holding them up, but usually you're standing there for way too long and your feet are getting tired and inevitably one of three groups of people will plant themselves right in front of you; annoying couple only interested in taking cell phone videos, four to six people about fifteen years too old to be attending the show, or guys tall enough to form their own semi-professional basketball team. Thankfully, the synergy between the Nada Surf road crew and 9:30 was such that everyone got their shit together and they went on stage on time. And not only was the intermission short, I got to hear Pavement's "Spit on a Stranger" during the break. Much obliged.

As expected, they opened with two new songs, in fact the first two tracks off the new album. But I knew it was going to be a good show from the opening notes of "Hyperspace" on. It reminded me that there's something timeless about all of Nada Surf's songs. They're not dated in any way (except for their one MTV hit, "Popular," which is only dated because you remember the goofy video from 1996). What I mean is, "Hyperspace" is off their second album, released in 1998, but it could just as easily fit into any album they've released since. The band hasn't reinvented themselves or their sound. Every three or four years, they produce a exceptional album. Then they tour. Then they take a break. Rinse, repeat. They could do this until I'm old and grey (I hope they tour The Villages!) and I would still be happy with their work.

Back to the show, I feel like they really hit their stride after "Killian's Red." It's such a hypnotic song that it lulls the audience into a comfortable, sultry, sleep-like state. Then they wake us up with one of my favorite new songs, "Jules and Jim." It evokes the scene from any paint-by-numbers rom-com or sitcom when a couple wakes up the morning after a night of good sex, and they both still seem really satisfied, and the flat sheet is draped perfectly over the woman's body as not to expose areolae. Point being, it just feels good. After that, they played a bunch of songs that aren't my favorites -- "Concrete Bed," "80 Windows," and "The Way You Wear Your Head" -- but hearing them live was a treat. They really give every song the entirety of their energy, and it pays off. That night they were joined by Doug Gillard (most notably of Guided by Voices, who were the source of my favorite 9:30 experience, but probably not in the way you think) and Martin Wenk (who plays a mean theremin), and the quintet was phenomenal. My fiancée in particular was quite taken with the drummer, Ira Elliot, who was admittedly captivating. As bassist Daniel Lorca noted, "He's the only guy who can play the drums like Mick Jagger."

They closed their main set with "Hi-Speed Soul" and "See These Bones," two of their best. And they finished with their signature encore, "Inside of Love," "Always Love," and "Blankest Year" which always calls for audience participation (you get to scream "FUCK IT!"). I missed a few of my personal favorites, but I can't complain. It was an awesome, high-energy, musically coherent show. And I really do appreciate my fiancée going with me, and helping me remember that we're not too old for this shit.

One footnote; frontman Matthew Caws had his father (who is apparently famous or something) and stepmother on the private balcony upstairs. At first they didn't seem to be having much fun, but by the middle of the set, they were up and dancing a little bit. Really freaking cute.

Buffalo Sabres at Washington Capitals: 28 March 2012

Following three straight weeks of announcements that the next time the Capitals played was "a huge game," my fiancée finally agreed with me. Coming into last night's game, Washington and Buffalo were tied with 84 points, but the Caps had the edge in the first tiebreaker with one more regulation plus overtime win. Both teams had six games left in the season. If either Buffalo or Washington were to win in regulation, it would be a massive blow to the other team's playoff chances. So we did what any good Caps fans would do -- we went to StubHub and bought the cheapest tickets we could find.

After catching up with some friends at Redline, we headed into the Verizon Center, justifiably nervous for the outcome. The Caps were starting, for all intents and purposes, their third string goalie. And although young Braden Holtby has played well in spurts, we got the feeling that it was a huge gamble on Dale Hunter's part. Sure enough, Holtby gave up three goals and was yanked only a few minutes into the 2nd period. The Caps offense could only muster one lousy goal before a terrible turnover at the power play point by Ovechkin led to a Sabres shortie that sealed Washington's fate. Now the 5-1 score is a little misleading. The Caps peppered Ryan Miller with 45 shots, and even though a lot of them were unscreened and from outside the slot, he stood tall when he had to and made some key saves on drives from Ovechkin and Laich, among others. Simply put, Buffalo had a world-class goalie, and the Capitals didn't.

Japers' recap compared it to the last game of the 2008-09 season for the Caps, a 6-2 throttling at the hands of the Pittsburgh Penguins in game seven of the conference semis. I remember watching that game at one of my favorite bars, Chadwicks. It was embarrassing, deflating, and in my estimation created the media firestorm which still lingers today about what is wrong with the Washington Capitals. And while the feeling last night wasn't as grim (there is, by definition, nothing more grim than losing a game seven) the questions surrounding the team are louder than ever. Forget Ovechkin -- he's signed through the 2020-21 season and will remain the captain despite the media's needling over his leadership abilities. But the Caps' current roster was assembled to win this year, and after decidedly not winning, come July 1st it may look very different. There are six relevant unrestricted free agents (Semin, Knuble, Halpern, Aucoin, Wideman, Vokoun) and two massive decisions to make on restricted free agents (Green, Carlson). Throw in two more tweener RFAs (Perreault, Beagle), the likely drama with their Russian imports (Kuznetsov, Galiev), and anyone who George McPhee considers trade bait (*coughSCHULTZcough*) and you could have over half of the active roster in flux.

That is, if McPhee still has a job after the season. Whatever happens between now and October, it should be interesting for everyone in the organization, from Ted Leonsis on down. Just don't ask me what I would do if I were McPhee or Hunter. I would have started Holtby last night, and just like Hunter, I would have been wrong.

Redskins Trade Up

NFL.com news: Redskins acquire second overall pick in deal with Rams

Washington gave up three first round picks ('12, '13, '14) and one second rounder ('12) presumably for the rights to Robert Griffin III. To which I say:

This Is Not My Fantasy

On Saturday, my friends and I had our annual fantasy baseball draft. We have tailored our league's selection process to create the maximum amount of work for me as commissioner. First, we have a 15-round auction portion, followed by a 9-round snake draft to complete our 24-man rosters. We call our beloved system "the drauction." Our budget for the auction portion is $225 ($15/player) and no dollar value is assigned to drafted or free agent players unless they are kept the following season for a flat rate. There are 11 teams in the league, 5x5 rotisserie scoring, with 4 OF spots.

I came into the day telling myself I was going to buy two out of three superstars who would be the cornerstones of my team; Justin Upton, Evan Longoria, and Troy Tulowitzki. They are my favorite non-Cubs in baseball, and I was prepared to go up to $45 for each one of them, essentially soaking up about 40% of my auction money for 13% of my auction players, if I was indeed successful in getting two. The first round of the auction saw Justin Verlander fall into my lap for below market value, but still at a steep enough price that I was wary of overspending for my targeted bats. So I let Longoria go for $41, which I thought was high but still below my ceiling, and intended to buy Upton and Tulo. To my surprise, Tulo went for $50, followed by Upton for $48. I give myself credit for my restraint, instead settling on Joey Votto for $44. The rest of the auction was a bit of panic mode on my part -- since most of my roster projections included Longo at third, I ended up overpaying (in my opinion) for Ryan Zimmerman at $26. I also overpaid for some of my favorite pitchers, and was left floating guys I wanted for $1 at the end of the auction and hoping everyone passed. It worked most of the time, but it cost me a shot at Matt Wieters, Michael Cuddyer, Dee Gordon, James Shields, B.J. Upton, Freddie Freeman, and Anibal Sanchez, all guys I thought were undervalued.

Now, without further ado, here is my team as it stands after draft day:

AUCTION

• Justin Verlander, SP, DET ($32)
• Joey Votto, 1B, CIN ($44)
• Michael Young, 1B/2B/3B, TEX ($20)
• Ryan Zimmerman, 3B, WAS ($26)
• J.J. Hardy, SS, BAL ($6)
• Brian McCann, C, ATL ($20)
• Jered Weaver, SP, LAA ($34)
• Adam Wainwright, SP, STL ($23)
• Matt Garza, SP, CHC ($9)
• Neil Walker, 2B, PIT ($2)
• Carlos Marmol, RP, CHC ($1)
• Colby Rasmus, OF, TOR ($1)
• Jordan Zimmermann, SP, WAS ($1)
• Derek Holland, SP, TEX ($2)
• Brandon Morrow, SP, TOR ($4)

DRAFT

• Martin Prado, 3B/OF, ATL
• Carlos Beltran, OF, STL
• J.J. Putz, RP, ARI
• Rafael Betancourt, RP, COL
• Nick Swisher, 1B/OF, NYY
• Peter Bourjos, OF, LAA
• Dexter Fowler, OF, COL
• Brett Myers, SP/RP, HOU
• Brennan Boesch, OF, DET

Well, there it is. Great starting pitching, good infield, atrocious outfield. It needs some work, but my "fantasy" of teaming up Upton, Tulo and Longo is long gone.

Analysis after the jump...

Review: The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword

Two things initially got me very excited for the release of The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword. First, it was released only for the Wii and required a Wii MotionPlus controller, which meant maximum flailing about the living room on my part. Second, I read that in the official timeline released by Nintendo (it's about time, no pun intended) Skyward Sword is the first, and will represent the origin story for all other Zelda titles to date. To me that meant the story was likely way epic, and given the series' history of mixing a great story with lighthearted fun, I was extremely optimistic. Besides, it's hard to screw up a Zelda game. They stick to a formula that works, and they do their best to nail it.

Tell me you're not just a little bit cised right now.

Being one of the bigger nerds of all time, I asked my fiancée to get me Skyward Sword for Christmas. I figured it was a good gift idea, being that I would buy it anyway, and I was struggling for anything else I needed at the time. It was the perfect plan, but for the fact that we had Christmas with her extended family and I had to explain to them why I asked for a video game. I should have just said, "I'm a man-child," gotten in my car and driven home, never to return. Sometime shortly after New Year's (after I finished up Final Fantasy XIII) I dove right in to Skyward Sword.

More after the jump...

What is this I don't even: Part 1

What the fuck is this haircut, and why is it suddenly everywhere on television?

What is this I don't even

Florida Panthers at Washington Capitals: 7 February 2012

My buddy had an extra ticket to Tuesday's Panthers game in DC, so I jumped on it. Terrific night to go to the Verizon Center. The crowds at the Iron Horse, our pre-game bar, were pretty light. So we could catch up without jockeying between jersey fouls for a beer. Once the game started, it was a study on everything that could go right for the Caps:

• the starting line of Chimera-Perreault-Semin scored right off the bat
• Vokoun was sharp all night
• Clemmensen was not
• Ovechkin power play goal, yes please
• Alzner and Carlson played well when paired together
• Laich won 87.5% of his faceoffs essentially playing on one leg

It wasn't perfect - allowing 42 shots against can't be explained away by holding a lead for 59 minutes - but it's always nice to see a dominating win. Games at the VC are always enjoyable, and the win obviously makes it more so. Plus, the barbecue place on the 200 level was outstanding, those braided pretzels are to die for.

One thing that stuck out to me is how well both Chimera and Johansson skate. You see it on television, and you notice. But seeing it live is something else altogether. With Chimera extended through the 2013-14 season, it's easy to see how those two can make up the majority of a dangerous third line moving forward. Of course for that to happen, Nick Backstrom needs to come back healthy and effective as the first line center, and general manager George McPhee must bring in a legitimate second line center. Where have I heard that latter part before? Oh right, each of the last three summers.

Still not optimistic about this team's playoff chances (if they make it) but it was refreshing to see a complete sixty-minute game from the Caps, especially while Backstrom and Green are still on the shelf.

Review: Final Fantasy XIII

In anticipation of Final Fantasy XIII-2's U.S. release at the end of January, I just finished replaying Final Fantasy XIII. First, I wanted to get the Treasure Hunter and Ultimate Hero trophies (because online achievements matter!).

Proof.

But I also wanted to re-familiarize myself with both the story and the battle system. After doing so, it seemed like the perfect time to offer up a review. Actually, not the perfect time, considering it was first released over two years ago, but I digress.

The first time I played through the game, I remember not really liking the story in general. Right off the bat, Square Enix and XIII director Motomu Toriyama break the "Robert Jordan Rule," which is of course if you make up more than three words at the beginning of a story, you're going to lose a lot of people, and the story had better be pretty damn good. The first few cutscenes were throwing fal'Cie, l'Cie, and Cie'th around quite a bit, and frankly becoming a l'Cie doesn't sound so bad. Not to nitpick, but the most crucial part of any game's story is communicating where you are, what you're doing, and why you're doing it. And given the gameplay restrictions inherent in the early chapters, going to the well of "saving the world," and rescuing some girl the audience knows nothing about from becoming encased in carbonite crystal isn't exactly a great or original motivation. As the story progresses, and our protagonists are off to stop the evil gods and/or organizations, there is still an uncertainty about why, or how the group will accomplish their halfhearted goals. During the mid stages of the game, most of the main characters grow and become more dynamic, but some of them continue to play one note throughout, and the supporting characters offer little distraction. By the time we definitely know what were doing (only because we're told so in James Bond, villain-reveals-all-and-splits fashion) and we're ready to do it, there are only two chapters left and it's basically LIGHTNING AND FANG SMASH to the last boss.

"This is only the first time we've met. I'll tell you my exact plan next time."

More after the jump...

The Obligatory "Why I Made a Blog" Post

Hi. My name is Jeff. This is my blog.

It's named after the initial setting of  Final Fantasy VI, a game I played quite a bit as a kid. I remember it fondly because of its host of characters, its vast world to explore, and the fact that everything seems awesome when you're thirteen. It's also meant to be a moderately clever play on words, since I am trying to balance the responsibilities of being a real-life adult with the desire to waste time on frivolous hobbies, such as writing a blog. Rejected names include "I Am Velius" after an iconic scene from Final Fantasy Tactics, which I felt was too obscure and a little morbid, and several iterations of wordplay based on my grade school nickname, Iceman (not Top Gun-related) and/or my glorious beard, none of which were terribly catchy.

If you're looking for any more details on this corner of the Internet, your guess is as good as mine. A blog seemed like a good way to organize my thoughts on things I think about a lot. So, now this exists. I will not try and focus on one or two topics, instead I want to write about a variety of things. I'm just not sure what they are yet. I know that most of my free Internet time is spent on either:

• video games, specifically the Final Fantasy and Zelda series
• sports, specifically the Washington Capitals, Chicago Cubs, Cleveland Browns, and Alabama Crimson Tide

Other things I care about less frequently:

• movies, but my passion for film ended when I realized the lion's share of the industry was out of ideas (read: Crash won the Oscar for Best Picture of 2005)
• television, in that I only watch two or three series at a time, but I tend to get fully immersed in them
• music, even though the vast majority of bands I've heard of over the past decade only make a handful of good songs
• politics, by virtue of living in Washington I have to care a little bit, but not nearly enough to follow it daily

These are the things I know at the moment. Where this goes from here, I guess we'll find out. You've been warned.