Articles

Jason Collins' historic announcement has been received with happy shrugs and praise, which is a very good thing. But it's not the end of anything, not nearly, and we shouldn't be too satisfied with this admittedly satisfying reception.

The Boston Celtics were once a very good team, if never quite one that deserved the heroic narrative they received in the early years of the Big Three. Now, with the end of the road seemingly rushing up for Pierce and Garnett, are we allowed to acknowledge that they've always been too small for their narrative?

Bo Jackson is one of the most transcendent athletes of his or any era. That's part of why his promos for 5-Hour Energy are such a bummer, although that's certainly not all of it.

The National Jewish Hall of Fame is located in a JCC, on Long Island. It's not anything like Cooperstown, but there's some ragged human magic there all the same. That, and Bill Goldberg wearing tefillin.

The soul of professional cycling has been so warped and decayed by the doping culture of the past decade that there are serious questions about the sport’s future. After the bottom of the Austin Witch Trials, cycling needs a hero badly. Luckily for US cycling fans, 22-year-old prodigy Taylor Phinney might be ready to fill the role.

Since the Calgary Flames' C of Red in the 1986 Stanley Cup Playoffs, professional sports teams have tried to recreate the monochromatic frenzy that came with it. After last week's Nike-branded White-out party-where-a-basketball-game-broke-out in Miami, we may have finally Witnessed the sentiment behind it swallowed whole. 

The NBA was a strange place in the late 1970s, if probably not quite as strange as the version depicted in 1979's gloriously batshit Jonathan Winters/Julius Erving vehicle The Fish That Saved Pittsburgh. Few things, really, could be much stranger.

Things went exactly as predicted for the Milwaukee Bucks in the first round of the NBA Playoffs. That wasn't especially good, but neither was it quite as bad as it sounds.

Late-season games between teams at the bottom of the standings are never easy to get through. When the second-to-last Flames visited the last-place Avalanche, things got dull on the ice. Off the ice, they got really real. A play in verse seemed like the right way to figure out how things went down. 

From conversations with obese nudists on an imaginary subway to needlessly worrying about what's going to happen when the best player in the league attaches himself permanently to your team , a lot goes through the head of a fan on draft day. Eventually you realize it's best to just enjoy the ride.