FTT Off-Topic: The Worst Day

Not sports, just doing some therapy here. Move along or not.

I've had dogs most of my life, and I just turned 45 last month. They were always around when I was a kid, and it wasn't until I was a teenager that they became memorable and permanent, or at least as permanent as dogs go.

Brandy, I got when I was in middle school, in a terrible year of transition, and I chose him over another puppy in an either/or trial on Christmas Eve. It was my Christmas present, and I chose the right dog. He lived until a very ripe old age with my mother, and is, to date, her last dog. I don't think she's gotten over his passing, or at the very least, can't imagine another animal around that isn't him. He was that good of a dog, and we're that kind of people. They are family members to us.

Dylan was my college to mid-'30s dog. A purebred Keeshond bought before the Internet would tell you that the breed was all wrong for a transitory college student and 20s musician, he was beloved but problematic, mostly because the breed wants to look after children, and I didn't provide him that experience until well into his later years. He's the first dog I had to put down.

Bogart was a stray beagle we found on a cold Thanksgiving night in a parking lot. I've always been partial to beagles, and she was a sweetheart. Dumb as a box of rocks, followed her nose anywhere, but gentle and didn't bay. She stayed with us for the better part of a decade until she just somehow wandered off from a familiarity brings lax security experience, and we searched for her for a week and put up posters to no avail. We had her micro-chipped, but that didn't matter either. I'm of the mind that she found some other family that fed her, because that was kind of her personality. She was adorable, but she was anybody's dog.

Chihiro (Japanese for white) was a misfire. A small and yappy cute dog for the kids, she didn't really bond with anyone and wound up going to a relative who wanted her. The plain and simple of it is that not every dog is right for you, and in those instances, you have to do what's right for the animal. Living with us was not that.

And then there was Milo, a Norwegian elkhound and Labrador mix that was damn near everyone's idea of the perfect dog. It took a long time for me to come around to dog ownership again; I've taken the losses hard. Milo was, well, magic. Training him happened so quickly we couldn't believe the luck. He was the best car dog ever. He could be gentle with the kids, or rough house, or mellow, all whenever it was most appropriate. He loved to play ball, but not so much that he was obnoxious about it. He'd talk like a Wookie, with an incredible assortment of verbal variety. He'd dance around on two legs with ease. He could catch frisbees and balls really well, and the amount of personal destruction and bad behavior was infinitesimal. If he ever did get on your nerves, he'd just look at you with his impossible to resist eyes and eternally expressive crooked ears, and you'd just forgive him instantly. He'd be with the youngest for stories, sleep with the eldest in the early evening, and then saunter on down to my room for the rest of the night. There wasn't ever a day with him that he didn't make better. I loved him more than any dog I've ever known.

He was two.

And now -- as in 12 hours ago -- he's gone, the victim of a horrible accident, and everyone in the house is five seconds from weeping. The kids do it openly, while my wife and I try to hide it, because, well, it just reactivates the kids. The afternoon spent dealing with this situation was agony. The emotions that I have from him not being here are just beyond raw. I don't know when, or if, I'm going to be really happy again.

Not having another dog isn't a real option; that's how good Milo was. So we went out tonight, through three different places, and found Minion, a border collie that's helping, in that he gives people reasons to not sob uncontrollably. I have no idea if we did the right thing in getting another dog right away or not, but having something -- anything -- to keep us from negativity is just that important right now. And we thought through the breeds, took all of the experience that we used just so short of a time ago, and will soldier on, because that's what parents have to do.

So, um, not sure when I'll be posting again.

And so it goes.

Tim Howard

You Shall Not Pass

Here's something that you're not going to read, in all likelihood.

The world will little note nor long remember the 2014 US Men's National Team. They made the round of 16 for the second straight World Cup, but they lost their last two games against obviously superior competition, with very little possession. They lost to a Belgium team that has the talent to win the entire tournament, but probably won't, because there are teams playing better than them right now, and they need erratic striker Romelu Lukaku to get special goals, the kind that are the only ones that seem to show up at this stage of the tournament, in every game, and he won't.

What we will remember, and what anyone with a heart will remember, is Tim Howard.

In what is likely to be the last time that anyone will see him on such a stage, the 35-year-old goalie had 16 saves, the most in a World Cup game in the past 50 years. He kept the Belgians off the scoreboard for the entirety of regulation, and the two goals in extra time were utterly beyond reproach. He dove, he punched, he led, he fought like one of the best in the world, which is what he is. At the end of the night, Belgium had 38 shots to 14 for the U.S., and honestly, the disparity felt even wider than that.

As the game got progressively more one-sided, and the Belgians just kept going through the defense with relative ease, Howard kept them in it for minute after minute. After the Belgians got their first goal, the chances actually got even better for them, and so did Howard. Goalies in futbol rarely have this kind of impact; the net is just too damned big, and if the striker does his job correctly, it's going in the net no matter what. And yet, from watching the game, Howard seemed to not get the memo. His lines were immaculate, his legs just long enough on any number of splits and dives, and you kept wondering if somehow Belgium would punch itself out with all of the quality chances, and give the U.S. a chance on a theft counter for the win. And well, that's almost exactly what happened, but suspect striker Chris Wondolowski (really, we couldn't have Landon Donovan?) whiffed. Honestly, an ordinary goalie has the US losing in a rout.

And after Belgium went up 2-0, and the team got a lift from the insertion of a 19-year-old Julian Green and his talented fresh legs, the defense got even worse, since the team had no choice but to throw more numbers forward to try to get the tying goal, and send it to penalty kicks. And since this is futbol, and the nature of futbol is heartache, I'm also a little relieved, since seeing Howard lose in a penalty kick situation (probably 1-0, given how much his team supported him for the first 105 minutes of play tonight) would have been even worse.

I'm sad to see the US leave the tournament. A stolen win would have kept them alive for four more days, and we would have gotten Howard vs. the world's best player, Argentina's Lionel Messi, in the next round. It would have given everyone even more chances to appreciate the man.

Finally, there's this. Howard is just a goalie, he's not a metaphor. He doesn't think about being 35 and in a World Cup, where his best offensive teammate is nearly young enough to be his kid. So he's not looking at the game as the proud soldier defending to the last, against the fading of the light, against the death of hope, against the inevitable.

A certain poignancy, a certain nobility, and an almost impossible to resist narrative.

Tim Howard. Just the best.

The U.S. At The World Cup: Dreaming Of Four More Days Of Dreaming

Believe

So in a few more hours, the U.S. plays Belgium in a round of 16 game. If they win, they advance to meet the winner of Argentina vs. Switzerland, which is to say, another team that would be a clear favorite to beat them. If they somehow get past that round, there's still two more games against wildly superior opponents, all of whom would be thrilled to see the U.S. show up as a de facto bye late in the tournament.

They have, honestly, no realistic chance of winning this thing.

Teams that win the World Cup have already shown themselves as real contenders at this point. They've won multiple games in group stage. They have big differences in goal differential. They have strikers that put fear into the hearts of defenders, and midfielders who control the game every time out. They control the ball the majority of the time it's in play, sometimes by a strong majority.

None of this describes the U.S. team.

In another four years, the World Cup will be played in Russia. Russia's time zone differences mean that the games will happen in the middle of the night or pre-dawn to the mainland U.S., so even if the country goes on a huge winning streak and does well in that tournament, the ratings aren't going to be as good. There will be no boom in ratings for MLS in America, because MLS is already back from their WC break, and, well, there hasn't been a boom in interest yet, when there really should be one. Soccer will remain, as it has been since 1972, the game of the future in America. (Mostly because parents like their kids to play it because it's low on the injury scale, but if the kid has skills, he or she is moving on to another game with bigger monetary value later. Anyway, moving on.)

So what does the game with Belgium mean? Well, first off, it's winnable. Belgium is basically the same kind of team as Germany, but not as strong. The U.S. might get striker Jozy Altidore back, and while he's not exactly world-class, it's a lot better than not having him. Unlike the last game against Germany, the club isn't trying to bounce back after playing in the rain forest of Manaus. The best U.S. player is goaltender Tim Howard, and he might stand on his head. It's just one game; things happen.

And if they win? We all get four more days of dreaming, of watching WC games with a Well Maybe in your heart, and four more days of rubbing our continued survival in the noses of countries who well and truly care about this game. England, Italy, Spain, Russia, Portugal, Ghana, all gone, all jealous as hell. Four more days of enjoying a sport without commercial breaks, fantasy sports overtones (seriously, it's so refreshing to not have that hanging over everything), and droll English commentators taking this all too seriously. Honestly, I need Ian Darke yelling "(Team Name)'s Humiliation Is Complete!", the way he did when Spain got rolled in group play, because that was freaking awesome. Four more days of Clint Dempsey redefining what it's like to be cool and Texan.

And, well, I know FIFA are cartoon slimebags, and that this is all just a party, and parties have to end. The people who hate futbol and the people who think that we'll all start caring about baseball (um, no, never), or that we can't get enough coverage of football training camps or NBA free agency, are going to get their wish.

We are all going to go back to normal.

But, um, what's so good about normal?

And why can't you people just enjoy a party?

And if the U.S. gets past Belgium tomorrow, the party goes for four more days.

So...

(sung)

I believe that we will win...

FTT Off-Topic: Some Religions Are More Equal Than Others

Try Harder To Be Male Next Life

As always with FTT O-T, not sports and not sorry; read or skip.

Today the Supreme Court, in one of those red vs. blue partisan decisions that make something of a mockery of the idea that the Court is actually very different from either of the other branches of government... ruled 5-4 in favor of Hobby Lobby, a privately owned company that is so morally opposed to women having contraception that they aren't going to pay for that as part of their medical benefits.


(Oh, and by the way, Hobby Lobby made money from birth control products through a shell company. No, seriously. Anyway, not the point.)

Now, I don't much care when you believe life begins, or whether you think that contraception is wide-scale abortion. I don't have the time or energy to discuss why I think you are wrong, and that I am right. But what we can both agree, hopefully, is that this decision is freaking batshit.

Look, the thing about being religious is that you have to, in this country at least, acknowledge that other faiths exist and don't have any more rights on this mortal coil than you do. Even if they are, well, wrong about everything, because they are in the same boat as you are; a minority that could get punished at any moment without protection. And now, thanks to the Court, that's no longer the case.

Religions that care more about this get to inconvenience and/or short-change their employees. If you run a company and you have religious issues with transfusions, psychiatry, vaccinations... nope, not valid. Only women, and only women who would like to control what happens to their bodies if and when they choose to have sex, matters this much.

Now, again, it doesn't really matter what your position on this is. Law that is settled around exceptions is inherently weak and/or crazed, and to say that this is bad law is obvious. To say that it is one of the worst decisions in the Court's history, and one that will be adjudicated again and again in the future because other plaintiffs will take it as precedent... also seems kind of obvious. I'm kind of amazed that this got to the Court in the first place, or that the five that signed on to this really couldn't come up with any better way to get to the decision they wanted to make.

The plain and simple fact of the matter is that you pay employees in cash and benefits. What they choose to spend on is, well, their decision. Hobby Lobby's female employees are, in all likelihood, going to simply spend their cash on what the company has shorted them in the benefits package.

So why not, well, be religiously opposed to dentistry? The minimum wage law? Bathroom breaks? Or any other OSHA standard that impedes profitability?

Top 10 takeaways from Lane Johnson getting busted for PEDs

Oh Crap

Second-year Eagles OL Lane Johnson faces a four-game suspension for running afoul of the NFL's performance enhancing drug policy. Here's all you need to know...

10) The suspension is going to have many more plays than an average offense

9) Thankfully, Johnson doesn't hang around with gang members, otherwise this might become a real problem

8) Some portion of the fan base is ready to blame or credit this to Mike Vick, because some portion of the fan base is ready to blame or credit Vick for damn near anything

7) Feel free to downgrade Shady McCoy in your fantasy league, especially if you are in a league with me

6) Luckily, Eagle Fan is very even-keeled and ready to get over such small hiccups in the road, without dealing in defeatism or over-reaction

5) As the last two years of Eagle football shows, continuity in the offensive line is kind of a big deal

4) The suspension will cost Johnson four game checks, or just over $116K, which the club will turn into some more windmills on top of the stadium, so, um, yay, I guess

3) This may be Allen Barbre's big break, which is great news for all of you who own him in your deep-roster OL-only fantasy league

2) As Johnson is relatively new to the OL position, one has to assume that he'll get better at hiding his dope

1) Speaking as an Eagles fan, we're doomed, doomed, doomed I tell you, doomed