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My only real concern about Comets v. 3.0 is the venue and the smalltime-ness of the league. The IEC seats 5,800 people, which is fine for minor minor league hockey like the Mavericks, but the Comets should be able to attract bigger crowds than that—like in the 7,000-8,000 range, so they may outgrow the place rather quickly. My hope is that’s exactly what they intend to do sometime down the road and perhaps move to the big house downtown eventually. The current MISL has been struggling to stay afloat for years, and they were down to only five franchises—Baltimore, Milwaukee, Philadelphia, Rockford, IL (?!?), and Monterrey, Mexico—before the Comets joined, and they’ve since added Omaha to the fold as well. To really have a league, in my opinion, you need a minimum of eight teams, and ten or more would be preferable. If the current MISL really wants this thing to take off again, it’s imperative they place teams as soon as possible in the old MISL hotbeds like St. Louis, Cleveland and Dallas, not to mention Wichita, which supported the old Wings passionately, and I truly miss our rivalry with their fans, whom I used to call the “Wing-A-Lings”. The league needs to make this thing coast-to-coast, too, not just a regional concern, and with all the different sports channels on cable (ESPN, Fox Sports Net, Versus, TBS/TNT, etc.), surely they could find a TV outlet for the league somewhere. Indoor soccer is too good a sport to have to languish in obscurity like it has the last 20 years or so.
Oh, by the way, I have not forgotten about or abandoned my “Hot Winter Nights” series that I posted a taster for on here a couple months ago. It is currently under construction, but is taking far longer than I expected because once I started jotting down recollections and dialing up old memories from the period when I practically ate, slept and drank the original Comets in the late ‘80s/early ‘90s that I wound up with enough material to write a novel. And as you know, I don’t like doing things half-assed on this blog, so instead of hurriedly slapping together a bunch of drive-by Comets/MISL posts, I’m piecing everything together into what I hope will be a comprehensive history of and tribute to my most beloved sports entity ever on earth in this hemisphere. And the timing is perfect—with the advent of the new team, I’m kinda glad I waited now. Stay tuned, boys and girls…
THE LAST STRIKE
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SPEAKING OF PINBALL WIZARDS…
I was delirious to find this little gem on YouTube last week—video of the short-lived 1975 game show “The Magnificent Marble Machine”, hosted by the late Art James. I had always heard there was no video left in captivity of the show, but guess again! The video quality here is poor, to be sure, but seeing this rascal once again is priceless to me. I do have one criticism of the actual show, though: they spent way too much time on the question-and-answer stuff, and not enough time on the blasted pinball machine! I was also pleased find another Art James show on YouTube from the early ‘70s, “The Who, What or Where Game” (aka “3W”) that I hadn’t seen in almost 40 years, as well as long-forgotten game shows like “Jackpot” and “Split Second” and several compilations of game show bloopers and goofs from the ‘60s, ‘70s and ‘80s. Excellent way to time-travel!
DING DONG, THE BITCH IS GONE!/DING DONG, THE ASSHOLE’S GONE!
Tuesday was a banner day in my little world as two of my most-reviled media personalities were disconnected from their jobs. Radio quack Dr. Laura (Schlessinger) announced she was ending her syndicated talk show in the wake of her big n-word FUBAR last week. This woman has absolutely no credibility with me, especially when she starts talking smack about honoring your parents—the woman didn’t speak to her own mother for the last 20 years of her life. Her poor mother died alone (on welfare) and her body wasn’t even found for nearly four months! "Dr." Laura's degree is in Physiology, NOT pyschology, and for all her moralizing, this is the same woman who cheated on two of her husbands, posed nude for photos, had an abortion (to save her own life, yes, but it still counts in my book) and claimed she was an only child, even though she has a sister named Cindy, and yet she has nerve to judge other people? Pathetic. I’m not naïve enough to think Dr. Laura is going away for good, but at least she’s no longer littering American airwaves with her psychological tripe.
Meanwhile, mega-ego self-promoting sports columnist Jason Whitlock is no longer employed by the Kansas City Star. It’s not clear whether the Flatulent One left of his own volition or if he was given the heave, but I’m delighted that he’ll no longer be embarrassing our fair city with his pompous bombast, hypocrisy and race-bating. My hunch is it got to the point where the paper just plain couldn’t afford his exorbitant salary anymore. Either that, or he ran off and eloped with Jeff George (or Drew Bledsoe). And like Dr. Laura, Whitlock ain’t disappearing from view—he’s all over the Internet on various sports outlets anyway.
EXPLAIN THIS ONE, LITTLE BUDDY!
Was thinking about “Gilligan’s Island” the other day for particular reason and wondered why their theme song says they landed on an “unchartered DESERT isle”. Looked more like a jungle with a beach to me—the weren’t no desert to be found there. I loved that show when I was a kid, but I find it almost unwatchable now. Oh, and for the record, I prefer Ginger over Mary Ann, only because I’m such a sucker for redheads. I wouldn’t kick Mary Ann out of bed, either, tho, and I’ve heard Dawn Wells is a real nice lady in real life. Tina Louise? That’s a whole ‘nother story…
FOR A GOOD TIME, CALL MAGIC CHEF!
The number for the customer service line listed in the instructions for various Magic Chef appliances is 1-800-553-4355. Unless they’ve branched out into the vibrator business, that ain’t what you get when you call this number!
I’M IN THE WRONG BUSINESS
Was out the other night wandering around at the Cabela’s outdoorsman/hunter’s paradise store the other night and got a chuckle out of what they’re asking for goose decoys—$100! And that was a sale price—they normally go for $120. A hundred bucks for a fake goose?!? Shit, the real ones ain’t even worth that much, are they? Sounds like a racket to me…
THE HOTTEST BAND(S) IN THE WORLD
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LEMMY RULES!
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