Philadelphia

The blueprint to defeat the 76ers has never been more evident

The 76ers took a massive poutine shit in the Great White North in front of a national audience, and in turn gave the rest of the NBA step-by-step instructions on how to dismantle their entire game.

Despite putrid shooting in the first half, the clearly superior Toronto Raptors rallied to defeat the Sixers by double digits after completely negating two of their three best players through the night. Jimmy Butler kept the Sixers in it with 38 points, but when Ben Simmons is doing his best impersonation of the Invisible Man for 99% of the game and Joel Embiid is getting dominating by Jonas Valanciunas, it’s not going to end well.

And end well it did not.

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Will the Flyers break free from the past and forge a new identity?

The more things change, the more they stay the same.

Every calendar in the Flyers’ wing of the Wells Fargo Center is from 1975. Gas is 30-cents a gallon. Scouts are desperately searching for grainy, reel-to-reel footage of the USSR national team in preparation for the huge, international exhibition tilt scheduled for the new year.

But yesterday a new intern walked into the facility with an iPhone and blew everyone’s mind. Wifi became a thing. Gas shot up to over $2 a gallon. Donald Trump went from a young, cocaine hungry boob to our current cocaine hungry boob of a president.

And the Flyers fired Ron Hextall from his GM position, another vaunted visage of a more successful past hired to bring the Flyers back into relevancy.

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It’s time for the 76ers to be transparent and say what’s going on with Markelle Fultz

Ho hum. Another week, another scathing controversy/conspiracy brewing about the Philadelphia 76ers.

What’s next? Are we a day away from 76ers CEO Scott O’Neil being found complicit in the JFK assassination? Is Brett Brown really DB Cooper? Is Joel Embiid’s success all a “Jacob’s Ladder” scenario that we’re experiencing during our last moments on our death bed?

For a yet unknown reason (be it the way the planets are aligned, the wind is blowing, or if a full moon is on the horizon) at the direction of his attorney Markelle Fultz is being pulled  from all 76ers activity until he sees a shoulder specialist next week.

The strange, sad saga of Fultz has taken yet another strange, sad turn.

No practices. No games. Nothing until Fultz is seen by whatever hack specialist he’s being shoveled off to now.

Oddly enough, Fultz has said nothing about his health this season. He’s said on multiple occasions that he feels “good” and publicly bristled when ex-shooting coach Drew Hanlen said he wasn’t healthy.

Here he is on Nov. 6th saying how good his shot feels.

 

 

 

He had opportunity last night to say he was injured. He did not.

So what changed from then to now? How have we gone from a happy-go-lucky, yet struggling, Markelle Fultz to this:

 

 

Is he hurt? Is his shoulder still bothering him? Is he and his team peeved that Brett Brown gave his minutes to TJ McConnell last night?

Now is the time, 76ers, to finally come clean and tell us what you know about Fultz.

Is he hurt?

Was he injured in a BMX accident after he was drafted?

Why is he being sent to a shoulder specialist after assuring everyone he was healthy?

Why did he so publicly split with Drew Hanlen?

Is he upset with being benched for TJ McConnell?

How much of a say do the people around Markelle have on this decision?

All of these questions have been asked by the 76ers beat reporters. None of them have been answered.

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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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What the hell was that?

After the Eagles fucked away a 17-point lead against the Panthers three weeks ago, Doug Pederson proclaimed the pressure was off his team.

Imagine how little pressure this team feels right now.

Oh me oh my. What the hell did we all watch last night? More important, WHY did we all watch that last night? If we had paid closer attention to this team, to the smoke and mirrors it had displayed during their four wins, we surely would have noticed that the air was dewy sweet with the potential for a massive letdown.

Please go someone else if you want any type of analysis from this game. Stay here if you want to listen to pure, unadulterated bitching.

Look over here! It’s Brandon Graham stripping Tom Brady in the Super Bowl! Remember that? Hey look at this, it’s the Lombardi trophy! Awesome, right?! No no, don’t look over there at the patchwork secondary, the questionable coaching decisions, or Darren Sproles taking up a roster spot all year to get free healthcare….look back over this way, it’s another replay of the Philly Special! Remember that? Philly Philly? Too cool, right?

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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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10-years ago today I missed the Phillies parade because I’m a complete jackass

10-years -ago today Chase Utley dropped an F-Bomb this city had been looking forward to for 28 years. “World champions……WORLD FUCKING CHAMPIONS!”

10-years-ago at the same time, instead of being shitfaced drunk with my loser friends and going insane in the streets of Philadelphia, I was wearing a pair of old ratty khakis, a $20 polo shirt, and wondering if the shards of my computer screen would mercifully slice through my jugular after I smashed my head through the machine.

Yes. I had to work the day of the Phillies parade, the first championship I had witnessed in my then 26-years of existence because I was far too much of a pussy to tell my boss I wouldn’t be working that day.

In the words of Robert Durst, “WHAT A DISASTER.”

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