76ers

The strange, sad saga of Markelle Fultz

Watching Markelle Fultz double-clutch his way through a free throw attempt and having it spread through social media like a plague hurt my soul. It’s painful to watch, and even more painful when you realize everyone is already laughing at it seconds after it hits Twitter.

He put in so much work, so much effort into retooling his shot, and for a while it seemed to be working. Sure, it wasn’t the nicest shot anyone has ever seen, but it was a hell of a lot better than the janky nonsense he put up last season.

Then, well, this hit Twitter minutes after his double-clutch du jour:

Oof. Just another strange nail in the strange coffin of Fultz’s young career. I know Fultz will get a lot of shit for tossing Hanlen to the curb, but Hanlen always struck me as an odd guy himself.

And to top it all off, he’s a bit of a Chatty Cathy. I’m all for sending passive aggressive tweets about someone, but give me a break. Do shot trainers need to send out “mysterious” tweets about their clients health, and then fire off this nonsense last night?

Who would have thought a weirdo shooting coach wouldn’t work well with a weirdo shooting guard who is suddenly so far inside of his own head that he’s scared to attempt a jump shot farther than 15-feet?

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It’s election day! But who should you vote for?

Election day is what separates this fine country from all the others in the world. It’s what this country was founded on, your right to cast a vote to decide who will lead us into the promised land. Why, our electoral process gives millions of inbred middle-American morons a voice to elect a senile, blustering, embarrassing reality TV star to the White House (ok…it may have its flaws).

But, who should we vote for, Uncle Coggin? There are so many candidates, so many fancy ballot questions that those fat cats in Washington make so hard to understand, why, I don’t know where to start!

Well I’m here to steer you through the rigorous voting landscape and offer my humble opinion on who and what you should pull the lever for today.

So please, sit back and let a middle school drop-out guide you into that voting booth, nuzzle up to your body, wrap my arms around your waist and kiss at your soft, luscious neck while we play out our sensual role in democracy.

Don’t come a knocking if that voting booth is rocking.

 

 

 

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Down with the boo in Philadelphia

Last night, Markelle Fultz bricked his first shot…and his second…and had his third shot blocked….and absolutely bricked his fourth shot in front of 20,000 rabid fans hoping to see some glimpse of promise from the touted prospect during the 76ers home opener.

I watched from my couch, cringing, waiting for the fickle fans to cascade the struggling shooting guard with boos, to let their frustrations out on the 20-year-old.

It never happened.

Instead, 20,000 fans cheered heartily when he made his fifth shot of the night, upping the volume with every point he scored, and going absolutely BALLISTIC when he finally made a three-point shot deep into the fourth.

Listen to the house come down when he drains this shot.

Awesome. It’s almost like cheers for a 20-year-old struggling with both his confidence and his shot are better than drunken morons booing him during the second game of the season. Who knew?!

They’re doing for Fultz what they did for the terribly slumping Pat Burrell in 2003. They recognize that the effort is there, and they’re pulling for their guy. Burrell came out of it and is BELOVED in this city, there’s no reason Fultz can’t as well.

But but but but Coggin, I hear the five of my dedicated readers saying, it’s our right to boo as fans! How will we let our teams know when they’re under performing, when they’re playing poorly, or when we’re displeased with the effort?

Now now, I’m not saying the boo should be abolished. But maybe, just maybe, it’s time for Philadelphia to finally *GASP* not be brain-dead idiots when we decide to boo.

It’s a tall order for a lot of you, but I know we can do it. Booing is a mental crutch for this city. Lets start walking again. We don’t need it.

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The 2018 Phillies are the unwanted, unloved red-headed step-child of Philadelphia

It’s Christmas morning in the City of Philadelphia. The Eagles unwrap one of the huge, festive boxes at their feet and squeal with glee. It’s a PS4. It will go perfect with the XBox One. The 76ers scream in happiness as the city presents them with a new 52-inch flat-screen television for their room.

The Phillies are gifted a nondescript, manila envelope containing a $50 check made out to cash.

Nobody even remembers to wake the Flyers up. Nobody cares about the Flyers.

Oh those poor Phillies. A game out of first place, already eclipsed the win total from 2017, and it’s like it doesn’t even matter. Why lavish any attention on the runt of the litter when the golden boys, the favored children, the HEIRS to the Philadelphia empire, are around?

It’s not fair. The Phillies are talented. They’re competing. They should be loved and adored. Instead, they’re asked to take care of “this mess” while the Eagles and 76ers get to play with their new toys.

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Forget about LeBron, one soon to be cut player can turn the tide of power in favor of the 76ers

Still thinking about the 76ers losing out on the LeBron sweepstakes? Still smarting from Josh Harris saying they “almost” had the greatest living player in the game in a 76ers uniform? Still worried that the 76ers are basically running back the exact same roster from 2017-2018 and are entirely putting too much pressure on Markelle Fultz to return to the form that made him the #1 overall pick?

Well let me put your tortured mind at ease with two words.

Milos. Teodosic.

Lord knows I don’t ask for much. Get this salty Serb into a 76ers uniform right now and you’re punching your ticket to AT LEAST the Eastern Conference Finals.

Who is Milos Teodosic, you ask?

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And the next General Manager for the 76ers will be…

…Me. It’s me. BAH GAWD, THAT’S COGGIN’S MUSIC.

Yes. I am officially throwing my name into the hat for the vacant general manager position with your hometown Philadelphia 76ers. What once was previously held by an immature and insecure lover of shirts with huge collars will now be held by an immature and insecure man who owns only the finest normal collared shirts that money can buy from Kohls department stores.

The NBA draft is tomorrow, so we need to get moving. We need to put the kettle on the stove, shift into high gear, and cover all our bases to make sure we move this franchise in the RIGHT DIRECTION to optimize our chances of success.

I’ve got all my stock answers and banal statements down, which will surely put me in the good graces of 76ers CEO Scott O’Neil. Let’s check in on Scott’s Twitter account to see if he’s made any decision yet on my application.

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Not good! Then again, nothing worthwhile has ever come easy, so it’s just the first of many hurdles I’ll have to vault to prove myself to the franchise and a demanding fan base that has driven lesser men than me completely insane or to an early grave.

After the jump, please see my detailed plan of action for success for the 76ers.

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Bryan Colangelo throwing his wife under the bus is the act of a true rat

Did anyone expect anything the end of Bryan “with a Y” Colangelo to go any differently when we all heard about this last week? Joe Pesci summed up the entire Colangelo mess with a few perfect lines in Goodfellas:

“Fucking rat. His whole family’s all rats. He would’ve grown up to be a rat too.”

It’s no secret that we at the Toboggan were never fans of man child Bryan Colangelo and his stupidity, troubling relationship with his father, love for huge collars, but this just cements our belief that you were never suited for the job.

Bryan finally grew up into a rat just like his old man when he decided to throw his wife completely and wholeheartedly under the bus instead of accepting any blame whatsoever after the 76ers unceremoniously dumped his ass to the curb after one of the most humiliating stretches the franchise has seen off the course in decades.

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