NY Sports

As a new year starts, a quick thought on three lost sports seasons in New York. The Mets and Jets have just finished seasons which started with much hope and expectations and ended with colossal choke jobs. The Knicks, well, we can consider their season over even before the all-star break, which begs the questions: What is wrong with these three teams that play in the largest market in America and have deep pockets?

The summer of '08 was supposed to make us all forget the major collapse suffered by the Mets last season. It was suppose to erase the memories of blown ninth inning saves. It was suppose to make us forget one of the, if not the worse pitching performances in Mets history. Yes, you know the game, the one where major free-agent flop Tommy Glavine could not record an out in the biggest game of his ill-fated Mets career. However, all we were left with were more sad memories and heartache as the Mets waved goodbye to Shea Stadium like only they could manage. It was another blown lead to the hated Phillies, who to add insults to injury are now World Series Champions. Once more the Mets were put out of their misery by the no-frills, low cost, last place Marlins. This time around, the Marlins not only eliminated the Mets, but also ruined what should have been a happy farewell for Shea Stadium. Once more they wasted a pitching gem the day before they were eliminated. All-world ace Johan Santana took the ball on three days rest and gave the Mets a performance that we will always remember. No one will deny that they missed closer Billy Wagner, but the true problem was the "core" of the team. Beltran, Reyes, Wright, and Delgado all came up small once more, stirring rumors that the core needs to be changed.

Will the summer of '09 be different? Will the Mets treat the fans to a playoff run similar to '06? Will Citi-Field be witness to the first World Series since '86? Billy Wagner's career in Flushing is over, but in comes K-Rod and Putz to try to shore up a bleak bullpen situation for the Mets. Once again the men in Flushing will only go as far as Beltran, Delgado, Wright and Reyes can take them. Anything less than a division title is a total disappointment for a team in such a big market and such deep pockets.

Where as the Mets keep their fans on the edge of their seats as they fight for the playoffs, the Knicks are simply unwatchable most of the time. The most expensive team in the NBA that plays in the world's most famous arena is a collection of misfits and role players. The one bright spot this season has been the vanishing of Isaiah Thomas and his band of clowns. Also out is Brooklyn icon and perennial loser Stephon Maubury, whose last good game might have been when he was winning his only championship with Lincoln High School. Mike D'Antoni has banished Eddy Curry, whose best moments are most likely at the local McDonald's. Jerome James (yes, he is actually still on the Knicks) is now the most expensive 12th man in NBA history and the Knicks are trying to create salary cap room for 2010. To this effect, free-shooting and erratic Jamal Crawford is now chucking up shots for Golden State. In the mean time, Knick fans have to pay premium price to watch a team led by mediocre players such as Chris Duhan, Al Harrington, and Tim Thomas. There is little hope for Knicks fans for the rest of this season and the whole of next year. That’s at least another 120 games of losing basketball as we hope to hit the lottery in the summer of 2010 with Wade, Boch, or the big prize....King James himself. Knicks management better get this right. Knick fans will be patient in the hopes of landing one of those high price free agents, but if this is not the case, D'Antoni and company may want to head for witness protection.

However, The Mets gave us 1986 and that magical run to the subway series in 2000 and the NL East Title and a gut wrenching NLCS loss in 2006. The Knicks gave us those rough and tumble Pat Riley teams led by hall of famer Patrick Ewing, the Allen Houston runner in the lane to eliminate Pat Riley’s Heat, the 4-point play, and Charlie Ward's supplex of punk PJ Brown, but the Jets???? Well besides Joe Nameth's finger wagging, its been "the same old Jets." There was that flash when the Big Tuna (Bill Parcells for those who have been living on Mars) led the Jets to the AFC title game in which they had a 10-0 lead over the Broncos in Denver at halftime. Since then........well I'm thinking......NOTHING! Vinny got injured early the following season and the Jets have never recovered. Glen Foley and Ray Lucas disguised themselves as starting QBs and the Jets have been losers ever since that ill-fated AFC title game in Denver. Chad Pennington proved to have the heart and desire to be a winner, he just didn’t have the physical tools. All of which makes this last season even more tragic for Jets fans. Eric Mangini was given a revamped offensive line, a hall of fame QB and 7 pro-bowlers, and did he do with it? Well is started well enough with an 8-3 record, with away wins at then undefeated Tennessee and at arch nemesis New England. The media was talking about an all New York Super bowl and Brett Favre looked like he was going to finally bring the Jets to the promised land. Then everything went wrong. Brett Favre ended up with 23 INTs and the Jets crashed to a 9-7 finish, with the final insult coming on the last day of the season. With their fading playoff hopes on the line, the Jets hosted the Miami Dolphins led by Chad Pennington. Pennington came to the Meadowlands and finished off the Jets in route to a division title and a playoff berth. Now the Jets are left to wonder if they will ever be winners again. Brett Favre will most likely retire (for real this time) and Eric Mangini has been told to clear his office ASAP. Wasted were All-Pro performances by Thomas Jones and Revis. Wasted was an opportunity to win a division which was without its best player since the first play of the season...Tom Brady. The Jets have no capable QB in waiting and who really wants to coach this team? Seems like there may be a 2-12 season in the future with no hope in site for the Jets. At least they are not the Lions right? Just another year for THE SAME OLD JETS.....

All of this may sound like complaining and whining, however, we are talking about teams in the biggest market in America. Nothing less than winning is acceptable with teams with a payroll the size of which is almost embarrassing.

Episode 3

Shump and the Shamans

Episode 3: Ridiculous Realities


Previously on Shump and the Shamans...

Read the other damn episodes if you want to know what happened previously.

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Our story continues in "The Town of Many Buildings" a small village nestled near the "Woods of the Forest" and "Mt. Steve" with a man we will call "The Sage" who is currently dreaming a dream. We take you to this dream now.

DREAMWORLD:

Sage: No! Stupid Tree! You have done a frivolous atrocity. You murderous pirate! I spit at you! The tides of the life are turning.. turning right! And right is not good! Only left turns will help this world prevail!



Townswoman: Sir.. Sir are you ok? You are screaming really weird things.

Sage: I tell you sir.

Townswoman: It's Mam.

Sage: I tell you boy! I am a prophet I see all the good and evil that goes on. It is all in my mind like a little pocketbook of world happenings. Everything! All of it! Look at my head! It's all in there you beastly man. I refute your voice in my ears. I will no longer hear your words! You hush now! I must nap to recover my stamina.



Townsperson: It's going to rain. We need to get this man to a shelter. ..You sir help me push him to the local Church. We can leave him there.



Half-Jesus: Awaken Sage. I have a task you must complete. A doing you must do. A quest that must be quested.



Sage: What is this? Another one of my visions? Damn you! I must regain my stamina.. I will vision later!

Half-Jesus: No Sage, It is I, Half-Jesus and I have need of you. You must undertake an undertaking for me.. answer a problem, solve a riddle, and execute a plan. There is much need of you. You must acquire a group, a team. With this team you must save everyone. For if you do not complete this task I set forth for you everyone will not be saved.

Sage: GO THEN! Speak what must be spoken!

Half-Jesus: If i tell you the plan now the sheer volume of knowledge i must bestow upon you would blow you up. Kaboom. You would be a handicapped handicap if I told you now. Trust me though, tonight will be a vision of what you must do first, once that task is completed more visions will happen and you will save everyone.

Sage: Fine I will vision tonight. Good-bye.

Half-Jesus: Don't forget to leave a donation on your way out.



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VISION:

Half-Jesus appears and says, "You must go and help this man save these beasts, he is on the other side of Mt. Steve in the Plains of Openness."

Sage: I must now go! For it is written in my brain that these long necked beasts' long necks have gone soft with degradation! Soft with humiliation! It is foretold in the winds of my eyes that these majestic beasts need saving. And saving will be done. Oh saving will be done.

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Meanwhile, in the middle of the woods, a tree scratches its head.

Episode 2

Shump and the Shamans

Episode 2: Limitless Exasperations


Previously on Shump and the Shamans...

Superman flies to the aid of Spiderman who is being help captive by the Algonquinites.



In the middle of a field in the middle of nowhere a meeting takes place.

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Man: Hello, before we get started there's something I wanted you to know....

Woman: Yes?



Man: Well... I know we are outside but if we were inside and there was a door I would open it for you.

Woman: Huh?

Man: Enough of this dillydallying let's get down to business! We came here to discuss business! And business is what we will discuss! Go!



Woman: Eheh... Ok. Well I want you to kill someone for me.

Man: Mam what did i just say about the dillydallying? Business!

Woman: Yes I understand.... I want you to kill my husband.. Mr. Incredible...

Man: What the fuck tart? You want me to kill Mr. Incredible.. wait a second... does that make you Mrs. Incredible?

Mrs. Incredible: This is ridiculous I cannot believe someone recommended you.. You might be the most retarded person I have ever met.

Man: You're ridiculous cause apparently your husband is the most retarded person you have ever met. Hah. I told you dumb woman.

Mrs. Incredibile: Look i just want you to kill him. Just do it.. I don't care how I just want you to do it!

Man: I will now sing a song.

Mrs. Incredible: Oh jesus christ.



Man: She wants him dead. She wants him dead. Oh death has come to write you a song.. Mr. Incredible .. becomes not so incredible!!! Oh death has come to write you a song.. a song!! Mr. Incredible becomes not so incredible! Oh death shall come to you!!! OH death shall come to you!!!!!!!!

Mrs. Incredible: I'm leaving.



Man: Wait! I'll do it. I depart now! Post haste! Come lion-bird let us go!



Mrs. Incredible: He never took the payment...

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Man: Land over there Lion-bird! Your master has got to pee.



Man: Ahh much better..

Tree: What is your name!?

Man: They Call me the Mute.. now who has spoken?



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Meanwhile, somewhere in the universe, a dream is dreamt.

Episode 1

Shump and the Shamans Season Premiere

Warning: This series is rated TI, for totally insane. It should not be viewed by those with any sense of logic or sanity. We are not responsible for any damage that the inappropriateness of this material may cause.

Episode 1: The Quandry



While Superman is off saving Spiderman from the evil henchmen known as the Algonquinites, our story begins on a steamy autumn evening at the household of Mr. Incredible.

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<It's a clear autumn night. All of the lights in the household are off, except for a small glow coming from the second floor bedroom. The silence is only broken by an occasional giggle and the whisper of love talk.>

Mr. Incredible: C'mon baby, you know I'm incredible. I'm Mr. Incredible!

Woman of the Night: ...

<The bed makes very audible squeaking sounds>

Woman of the Night: This isn't really what I was expecting...

Mr. Incredible: What? What do you mean?

Woman of the Night: Stop.

<The squeaking ceases>

Mr. Incredible: What's wrong baby?

Woman of the Night: Your just not...as incredible as I thought.

Mr. Incredible: Huh? How can this be?

<The wind picks up outside. A chill breeze wraps around the room from the open window next to the bed.>

Mr. Incredible: I don't know what I did wrong...

<A sharp clanging sound can be heard coming from outside the window.>

Woman of the Night: What was that!

Mr. Incredible: Oh shit, I think that's the Mrs. !

<A hand grasps the windowsill, and the shadow of a figure appears in the frame.>

Mr. Incredible: Who the hell?

<The shadowy figure leaps into the room, landing with a resounding THUD.>

Shadowy Figure: Sup guys! It's SALTY TIME! FFFROOOSTSHOCKKKK!!

<Salty frostshocks Woman of the Night, then leaps back out the window. Clanging sounds can be heard as he runs off into the distance. Woman of the Night dies.>

Mr. Incredible: Nooooooo!

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Meanwhile, in the nearby forest, a tree moves a little to the left.

Why You dont Talk on the phone while in the Bathroom

All in all, it hadn't been a good day. Bad traffic, a malfunctioning computer, incompetent coworkers and a sore back all made me a seething cauldron of rage. But more importantly for this story, it had been over forty-eight hours since I'd last taken a dump. I'd tried to jumpstart the process, beginning my day with a bowl of bowel-cleansing fiber cereal, following it with six cups of coffee at work, and adding a bean-laden lunch at Taco Bell. As I was returning home from work, my insides let me know with subtle rumbles and the emission of the occasional tiny fart that Big Things would be happening soon. Alas, I had to stop at the mall to pick up an order. I completed this task, and as I was walking past the stores on my way back to the car, I noticed a large sale sign proclaiming, "Everything Must Go!" This was prophetic, for my colon informed me with a sudden violent cramp and a wet, squeaky fart that everything was indeed about to go. I hurried to the mall bathroom. I surveyed the five stalls, which I have numbered 0 through 4 (I write a lot of software) for your convenience:

0.Occupied

1.Clean, but Bathroom Protocol forbids its use, as it's next to the occupied one.

2.Poo on seat.

3.Poo and toilet paper in bowl, unidentifiable liquid splattered on seat.

4.No toilet paper, no stall door, unidentifiable sticky object near base of toilet.

Clearly, it had to be Stall #1. I trudged back, entered, dropped trou and sat down. I'm normally a fairly Shameful Shitter. I wasn't happy about being next to the occupied stall, but Big Things were afoot.

I was just getting ready to bear down when all of a sudden the sweet sounds of Beethoven came from next door, followed by a fumbling, and then the sound of a voice answering the ringing phone. As usual for a cell phone conversation, the voice was exactly 8 dB louder than it needed to be. Out of Shameful habit, my sphincter slammed shut. The inane conversation went on and on. Mr. Shitter was blathering to Mrs. Shitter about the shitty day he had. I sat there, cramping and miserable, waiting for him to finish. As the loud conversation dragged on, I became angrier and angrier, thinking that I, too, had a crappy day, but I was too polite to yak about in public. My bowels let me know in no uncertain terms that if I didn't get crapping soon, my day would be getting even crappier.


Finally my anger reached a point that overcame Shamefulness. I no longer cared. I gripped the toilet paper holder in one hand, braced my other hand against the side of the stall, and pushed with all my might. I was rewarded with a fart of colossal magnitude -- a cross between the sound of someone ripping a very wet bed sheet in half and of plywood being torn off a wall. The sound gradually transitioned into a heavily modulated low-RPM tone, not unlike someone firing up a Harley. I managed to hit resonance frequency of the stall, and it shook gently.

-

Once my ass cheeks stopped flapping in the breeze, three things became apparent: (1) The next-door conversation had ceased; (2) my colon's continued seizing indicated that there was more to come; and (3) the bathroom was now beset by a horrible, eldritch stench.

It was as if a gateway to Hell had been opened. The foul miasma quickly made its way under the stall and began choking my poop-mate. This initial "herald" fart had ended his conversation in mid-sentence.

"Oh my God," I heard him utter, following it with the suppressed sounds of choking, and then, "No, baby, that wasn't me (cough, gag), you could hear that (gag)??"

Next door I could hear fumbling with the paper dispenser as he desperately tried to finish his task. Little snatches of conversation made themselves heard over my anal symphony: "Gotta go... horrible... throw up... in my mouth.... not... make it... tell the kids... love them... oh God..." followed by more sounds of suppressed gagging and retching.

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Alas, it is evidently difficulty to hold one's phone and wipe one's bum at the same time. Just as my high-pressure abuse of the toilet was winding down, I heard a plop and splash from next door, followed by a string of swear words and gags. My poop-mate had dropped his phone into the toilet.

After a considerable amount of paperwork, I got up and surveyed the damage. I felt bad for the janitor who'd be forced to deal with this, but I knew that flushing was not an option. No toilet in the world could handle that unholy mess. Flushing would only lead to a floor flooded with filth.

As I left, I glanced to the next-door stall. Nothing remained in the bowl. Had he flushed his phone, or had he plucked it out and left the bathroom with nasty unwashed hands? The world will never know.

I exited the bathroom, momentarily proud and Shameless, looking around for a face glaring at me. But I saw no one. I suspect that somehow my supernatural elimination has manged to transfer my Shamefulness to my anonymous poop-mate. I think it'll be a long time before he can bring himself to poop in public -- and I doubt he'll ever again answer his cell phone in the loo. And this, my friends, is why you should never talk on your phone in the bathroom.