NHL Mega-Mock Draft Reboot - Discussion / Draft Thread - PHASE FOURTEEN! Part One!

[DancingPanther]

Where did @DancingPanther go?

Took a nap. Work starts tonight. Time to rot for a week. Can't wait. You're up now right?

Edit: I've confirmed you're up

 

[Hurricane28]

The "good" thing about being a Philly Sports fan is that the heartbreaking moments board is loaded. Probably the most loaded category we've had.

 

[Striiker]

Or what, sport? You're going to steal my soul?

I’ll be sad

 

[BiggE]

The "good" thing about being a Philly Sports fan is that the heartbreaking moments board is loaded. Probably the most loaded category we've had.

The choices are legion for me. It is numerically impossible for more than a small fraction to be sniped

 

[Captain Dave Poulin]

I'm desperate to roll with the spite supergroup, but @BiggE is about to pick-tip my crushing sports moment, so I have to nab it now.

First, let me set the stage. We had no business hanging with the Oilers in 1985, and it showed. After taking the first game 4-1, Edmonton swept the next four, winning the clincher 8-3. That was pretty nauseating, but it was nice to be back in the Finals after ... certain things. We were regulars there, and our last Cup had "only" been 10 years earlier. The Oilers were the defending champs and had a decided edge against a young group of Flyers still finding their way.

Zip ahead two years, and after the tragic passing of Pelle Lindberg, Ron Hextall had stepped up huge to help a still young squad rolling lines and pairs back into the Finals. While I don't remember much in detail from 1985 because I couldn't watch most of the games, I remember the 1987 playoffs like it was yesterday. Hextall was simply unbelievable facing that horrible team with Drunksky and all those horrible c***s, but we still fell behind in games and trailed 3-2 heading into Game Six. A stunning, amazing finish was in store.

"With a chance to close out the series without the pressure of home ice, Edmonton took a 2–0 lead against a hesitant Flyers club on a disputed goal by Kevin Lowe and a stuffer by checking winger Kevin McClelland. The Oilers took control of the game in all aspects, outshooting Philly 15–5 in the opening 20 minutes. The Flyers had little chance until Lindsay Carson managed to thread a puck through Grant Fuhr's pads a little more than seven minutes into the second period. The Oilers kept the pressure on, and carried play into the third period. However, Anderson's careless high-sticking penalty with eight minutes left in regulation led to Propp's electric game-tying goal, snapping a shot high into the left corner of the net.

"Eighty-four seconds later, little-used Flyer defenceman J. J. Daigneault stepped up to a dying puck inside the Oilers' blue line, and cranked the puck just inside the right post to give the Flyers a 3–2 advantage. Daigneault's goal stirred the Spectrum crowd to a frenzy providing what has been called the loudest moment in that arena's history, and the game is often nicknamed 'The Night the Spectrum Shook.' The only threat to that lead came with ten seconds left, when Mark Messier picked off Hextall's attempted clear, broke in, and took one shot into Hextall's pads and a second over the top of the net. Mark Howe knocked down a last-ditch Oiler effort at the buzzer, and the Finals headed to a seventh game for the first time since 1971."



The quality of that tape is obviously shit, but you get the point. You can't imagine the feeling of seeing that - HEARING that - through the TV as it happened. I have never, ever heard sound like that. I can't imagine what it was like being in that building. Everything was pointing to destiny FINALLY being on our side. I wasn't alone in my thoughts of Lindberg - the players had his number 31 stitched on the arms of their blouses.

But then Game 7 happened. We took an early lead on a goal by the underrated Murray Craven, but the Oilers tied it 1-1. Then my most crushing moment happened.

"Kurri delivered a huge blow to Flyers victory hopes when he beat Hextall with a quick wrist shot off a Gretzky pass at 14:59 into the second period, giving the Oilers a one-goal cushion."

They added a late third via thunderc*** Glenn Anderson, but it was after the second goal that I knew the dream was over. I moped that entire summer. I told everyone I knew that I would never get over it, and I never have. It didn't help that we (and especially Hextall) shat down our legs in the 1988 playoffs. Pure misery.

Team Crushing Sports Moment - 2-1, Game 7, 1987

@ajgoal

 

[BiggE]

I'm desperate to roll with the spite supergroup, but @BiggE is about to pick-tip my crushing sports moment, so I have to nab it now.

First, let me set the stage. We had no business hanging with the Oilers in 1985, and it showed. After taking the first game 4-1, Edmonton swept the next four, winning the clincher 8-3. That was pretty nauseating, but it was nice to be back in the Finals after ... certain things. We were regulars there, and our last Cup had "only" been 10 years earlier. The Oilers were the defending champs and had a decided edge against a young group of Flyers still finding their way.

Zip ahead two years, and after the tragic passing of Pelle Lindberg, Ron Hextall had stepped up huge to help a still young squad rolling lines and pairs back into the Finals. While I don't remember much in detail from 1985 because I couldn't watch most of the games, I remember the 1987 playoffs like it was yesterday. Hextall was simply unbelievable facing that horrible team with Drunksky and all those horrible c***s, but we still fell behind in games and trailed 3-2 heading into Game Six. A stunning, amazing finish was in store.

"With a chance to close out the series without the pressure of home ice, Edmonton took a 2–0 lead against a hesitant Flyers club on a disputed goal by Kevin Lowe and a stuffer by checking winger Kevin McClelland. The Oilers took control of the game in all aspects, outshooting Philly 15–5 in the opening 20 minutes. The Flyers had little chance until Lindsay Carson managed to thread a puck through Grant Fuhr's pads a little more than seven minutes into the second period. The Oilers kept the pressure on, and carried play into the third period. However, Anderson's careless high-sticking penalty with eight minutes left in regulation led to Propp's electric game-tying goal, snapping a shot high into the left corner of the net.

"Eighty-four seconds later, little-used Flyer defenceman J. J. Daigneault stepped up to a dying puck inside the Oilers' blue line, and cranked the puck just inside the right post to give the Flyers a 3–2 advantage. Daigneault's goal stirred the Spectrum crowd to a frenzy providing what has been called the loudest moment in that arena's history, and the game is often nicknamed 'The Night the Spectrum Shook.' The only threat to that lead came with ten seconds left, when Mark Messier picked off Hextall's attempted clear, broke in, and took one shot into Hextall's pads and a second over the top of the net. Mark Howe knocked down a last-ditch Oiler effort at the buzzer, and the Finals headed to a seventh game for the first time since 1971."



The quality of that tape is obviously shit, but you get the point. You can't imagine the feeling of seeing that - HEARING that - through the TV as it happened. I have never, ever heard sound like that. I can't imagine what it was like being in that building. Everything was pointing to destiny FINALLY being on our side. I wasn't alone in my thoughts of Lindberg - the players had his number 31 stitched on the arms of their blouses.

But then Game 7 happened. We took an early lead on a goal by the underrated Murray Craven, but the Oilers tied it 1-1. Then my most crushing moment happened.

"Kurri delivered a huge blow to Flyers victory hopes when he beat Hextall with a quick wrist shot off a Gretzky pass at 14:59 into the second period, giving the Oilers a one-goal cushion."

They added a late third via thunderc*** Glenn Anderson, but it was after the second goal that I knew the dream was over. I moped that entire summer. I told everyone I knew that I would never get over it, and I never have. It didn't help that we (and especially Hextall) shat down our legs in the 1988 playoffs. Pure misery.

Team Crushing Sports Moment - 2-1, Game 7, 1987

@ajgoal

I was at game 6, yes, it was that loud.

 

[pit]

Sweeping generalizations like

Anyway cap, the length of song comment wasn't directed at anyone here, especially you, just the average American who needs the proverbial keys jingled in front of them. We've talked about this, from movies to football broadcasts, the average attention span needs to be kept by explosions or overproduced graphics of useless stats read off by Cris Collinsworth. And sometimes, face melting guitar solos. I'm not saying you or anyone here is of this ilk. In fact I trust no one here is. So if you or anyone took it that way, sorry

Anyway, Starberry doesn't like Bob Dylan's sound but recognizes him as influential. The flip side is saying f*** all jam bands or calling Phil Lesh (one of psychedelic/prog rock's most influential bassists) and Jerry Garcia (one of the premier guitarists in music) both endless noodlers with no direction making sexless music, along with every other "jammer". This is obtuse and is itself a sweeping generalization. I remember being blasted for liking Pigeons Playing Ping Pong some time ago by multiple people, but the first thing that stuck out was the technical work of the drummer on his hi hat. To me, the individual work on each instrument is the fun of music, not necessarily the progression of the piece (unless that's the point, like Tommy by The Who or Who Are You for example). This is accentuated by jamming and is why I like it so much. Related to this, as a musician, is the fun of vicariously jamming with world class talents.

Not liking the motion of the ocean is exactly the type of subjectivity that makes music great, but calling the entire ocean shit is frustrating to hear to some magnitude. I said earlier Nicki Minaj offers no musical redeeming qualities to me, and I refuse to believe anyone here includes someone like Jerry Garcia in the no musical redeeming qualities category. That's really all I ask, is to recognize the talent instead of saying f*** jam bands and dogpiling on anyone who likes them. This happens in real life too, not just here, and I know it's probably pretty ridiculous of me to go on this rant but it really is exhausting. It's the only music where people are immediately ripped for liking it.

This will be the last I say of this as to not derail anything. Everyone make your spite picks with full spite by all means

Sorry, I instigated this. I'm speaking purely from my own perspective of what suits me. I've legitimately given it a shot (had a girlfriend who would reward me for any interest I showed in one band in particular and multiple good friends in university who would make suggestions and play tracks), but it just never worked for me. Maybe there's more out there I've not heard, but for your sake discount my opinion. It's unchanged about the music, but I wouldn't want it to piss anyone else off because something isn't to my taste. I've got no negative opinions about the people who listen - it's just not music for me.

 

[mja]

I'm desperate to roll with the spite supergroup, but @BiggE is about to pick-tip my crushing sports moment, so I have to nab it now.

First, let me set the stage. We had no business hanging with the Oilers in 1985, and it showed. After taking the first game 4-1, Edmonton swept the next four, winning the clincher 8-3. That was pretty nauseating, but it was nice to be back in the Finals after ... certain things. We were regulars there, and our last Cup had "only" been 10 years earlier. The Oilers were the defending champs and had a decided edge against a young group of Flyers still finding their way.

Zip ahead two years, and after the tragic passing of Pelle Lindberg, Ron Hextall had stepped up huge to help a still young squad rolling lines and pairs back into the Finals. While I don't remember much in detail from 1985 because I couldn't watch most of the games, I remember the 1987 playoffs like it was yesterday. Hextall was simply unbelievable facing that horrible team with Drunksky and all those horrible c***s, but we still fell behind in games and trailed 3-2 heading into Game Six. A stunning, amazing finish was in store.

"With a chance to close out the series without the pressure of home ice, Edmonton took a 2–0 lead against a hesitant Flyers club on a disputed goal by Kevin Lowe and a stuffer by checking winger Kevin McClelland. The Oilers took control of the game in all aspects, outshooting Philly 15–5 in the opening 20 minutes. The Flyers had little chance until Lindsay Carson managed to thread a puck through Grant Fuhr's pads a little more than seven minutes into the second period. The Oilers kept the pressure on, and carried play into the third period. However, Anderson's careless high-sticking penalty with eight minutes left in regulation led to Propp's electric game-tying goal, snapping a shot high into the left corner of the net.

"Eighty-four seconds later, little-used Flyer defenceman J. J. Daigneault stepped up to a dying puck inside the Oilers' blue line, and cranked the puck just inside the right post to give the Flyers a 3–2 advantage. Daigneault's goal stirred the Spectrum crowd to a frenzy providing what has been called the loudest moment in that arena's history, and the game is often nicknamed 'The Night the Spectrum Shook.' The only threat to that lead came with ten seconds left, when Mark Messier picked off Hextall's attempted clear, broke in, and took one shot into Hextall's pads and a second over the top of the net. Mark Howe knocked down a last-ditch Oiler effort at the buzzer, and the Finals headed to a seventh game for the first time since 1971."



The quality of that tape is obviously shit, but you get the point. You can't imagine the feeling of seeing that - HEARING that - through the TV as it happened. I have never, ever heard sound like that. I can't imagine what it was like being in that building. Everything was pointing to destiny FINALLY being on our side. I wasn't alone in my thoughts of Lindberg - the players had his number 31 stitched on the arms of their blouses.

But then Game 7 happened. We took an early lead on a goal by the underrated Murray Craven, but the Oilers tied it 1-1. Then my most crushing moment happened.

"Kurri delivered a huge blow to Flyers victory hopes when he beat Hextall with a quick wrist shot off a Gretzky pass at 14:59 into the second period, giving the Oilers a one-goal cushion."

They added a late third via thunderc*** Glenn Anderson, but it was after the second goal that I knew the dream was over. I moped that entire summer. I told everyone I knew that I would never get over it, and I never have. It didn't help that we (and especially Hextall) shat down our legs in the 1988 playoffs. Pure misery.

Team Crushing Sports Moment - 2-1, Game 7, 1987

@ajgoal

It was my initial thought on this but it didn't feel right to take it, because you have some years on me and I knew you'd go here. I remember Game 6 very well but Game 7 is a bit of a blur. After the game is a core childhood memory for me though.

 

[Captain Dave Poulin]

It was my initial thought on this but it didn't feel right to take it, because you have some years on me and I knew you'd go here. I remember Game 6 very well but Game 7 is a bit of a blur. After the game is a core childhood memory for me though.

Brutal. A terrible summer that turned into a terrible semester and more terrible years after that.

 

[Hurricane28]

That 87 Finals year was my dad's first as an STH. Except Game 6 was his prom night. He went to prom with a radio and headphones in lol

 

[Hollywood Cannon]

That 87 Finals year was my dad's first as an STH. Except Game 6 was his prom night. He went to prom with a radio and headphones in lol

My prom was on Game Four against the Bruins in 2010. Kept checking my phone and then saw Gagne scored in OT.

 

[Hurricane28]

My prom was on Game Four against the Bruins in 2010.

The Flyers werent good enough in my high school years for me to have to make a decision lol

 

[Hollywood Cannon]

The Flyers werent good enough in my high school years for me to have to make a decision lol

My graduation would have been Game 7 of the SCF. A decision was made.

 

[Captain Dave Poulin]

My prom was on Game Four against the Bruins in 2010. Kept checking my phone and then saw Gagne scored in OT.

My prom was in 1986. I went with a total smoke show I barely knew, and I got HAMMERED.

 

[ajgoal]

Like Mr. Murdock, our Lawyer has appeared on the silver screen, the small screen, and on the printed page. Unlike Mr. Murdock, however, our choice here had a way with the ladies, an impeccable sense of style, and he knew how to have a good time. Being a multi-billionaire doesn't hurt.

He also gives excellent advice.

And is a loving father

As a lawyer, he has put an untold number of criminals behind bars.

Of course, he was their defense attorney.

Team Lawyer: Gomez Addams

@Magua No snipez, plz.

 

[Lord Defect]

Like Mr. Murdock, our Lawyer has appeared on the silver screen, the small screen, and on the printed page. Unlike Mr. Murdock, however, our choice here had a way with the ladies, an impeccable sense of style, and he knew how to have a good time. Being a multi-billionaire doesn't hurt.

He also gives excellent advice.

And is a loving father

As a lawyer, he has put an untold number of criminals behind bars.

Of course, he was their defense attorney.

Team Lawyer: Gomez Addams

@Magua No snipez, plz.

I never knew he was a lawyer, or that he had a job at that.

 

[Magua]

What does a Quackverse lawyer need to have a background in? The laws of Earth Prime are well and good -- some of them anyway -- but how much good would they serve in another dimension? See the problem with law is it's so factual. And I need someone whose expertise is in the fictional. What would happen in the Quackverse if "Chef" from South Park, while borrowing the Magic School Bus and in possession of a stolen team cactus, was charged with vehicular homicide against Chicken Judge Judy at a Firestick's outdoor game in Atlantis?

Exactly.

The Honolulu Ghibli have acquired the pro bono services of our Team Lawyer: Harvey Birdman.

Exhibits A, B, and C in defense of our attorney's abilities and expertise in the area of Megaverse Law:








We rest our case. We call to the stand to make his next selection: @Hollywood Couturier !

 

[Rebels57]

My prom was in 1986. I went with a total smoke show I barely knew, and I got HAMMERED.

My prom was in 2003 the day after the Flyers beat the Leafs in a 3OT 1st round playoff game on a Mark Recchi goal.



My date, who was my ex, called after the game to tell me she wasn't going because her new bf had a problem with it. Everything was already paid for. I was beside myself.

My friend Joe's date found a friend for me to go with and my senior prom was a blind date

 

[BiggE]

My prom was in 83. The less I remember about those playoffs, the better.

The prom was ok though

 

[Captain Dave Poulin]

I'm going to need all of you to keep an eye on the spreadsheet at all times - I'm too flaky to keep up with everything that's happening right now.

We start the day with the father of the #2 Ozzy Wiesblatt fan in the world. @Hollywood Couturier will be picking something cool next, so be on red alert for excitement and don't blow a gasket when you get too fired up. @Chuck Downie is on deck with a pair. I am always excited to see what our best thematic drafter does, but as you all know, I never blow a gasket over anything. Namaste. After Chuck and my brother send us onto the back nine, @Magua will leap onto the stage from the lido deck with theatrical flair and pick something hopefully as good as spite bitch Steve Vai, that ridiculous peacock bitch. All peacocks suck FYI TBH IIRC IRL. ajgoal is on the lido afterdeck conducting a survey of something geological with a Geiger counter and a notepad and a sharpened pencil. He's old school, innit.

It's so much fun doing all this drafting. This phase rules like all phases rule, the directors draft rules even though it's super tense, so it's not like keeping up with things is "hard" or something. I just miss stuff sometimes, and it has very little to do with having too much draft on my plate. A big part of it is just being absentminded in general. A bigger part of it is "Singles Inferno." As you know, that is a Korean reality dating show on Netflix (no spoilers). The first two episodes made it look like it was going to kind of suck and not linger in my emotions, but then the third episode turned it on its head. Now there's drama. I need to know what is going to happen.

As with Korean dramas, the key is in knowing the shlock is coming, because then you can absorb it with the 95% of your brain (SCIENCE!) that you don't use and save the rest of your brain for the good stuff. With the dramas, you stuff the repetitive flashbacks, the dumb facial expressions, etc. into the dark side of your brain - with the reality dating shows, you stick your knowledge that these are fake bohunk dudes and vapid ladies who are all full of shit into that dark space. It's a form of suspension of disbelief - you set yourself up with a head space where it is all real so you can feel something, since everything about this trash planet in reality makes you feel only revulsion. It's like a tonic for the #DarkestTimeline - it's not a cure, but it is a treatment.

 

[BiggE]

I'm going to need all of you to keep an eye on the spreadsheet at all times - I'm too flaky to keep up with everything that's happening right now.

We start the day with the father of the #2 Ozzy Wiesblatt fan in the world. @Hollywood Couturier will be picking something cool next, so be on red alert for excitement and don't blow a gasket when you get too fired up. @Chuck Downie is on deck with a pair. I am always excited to see what our best thematic drafter does, but as you all know, I never blow a gasket over anything. Namaste. After Chuck and my brother send us onto the back nine, @Magua will leap onto the stage from the lido deck with theatrical flair and pick something hopefully as good as spite bitch Steve Vai, that ridiculous peacock bitch. All peacocks suck FYI TBH IIRC IRL. ajgoal is on the lido afterdeck conducting a survey of something geological with a Geiger counter and a notepad and a sharpened pencil. He's old school, innit.

It's so much fun doing all this drafting. This phase rules like all phases rule, the directors draft rules even though it's super tense, so it's not like keeping up with things is "hard" or something. I just miss stuff sometimes, and it has very little to do with having too much draft on my plate. A big part of it is just being absentminded in general. A bigger part of it is "Singles Inferno." As you know, that is a Korean reality dating show on Netflix (no spoilers). The first two episodes made it look like it was going to kind of suck and not linger in my emotions, but then the third episode turned it on its head. Now there's drama. I need to know what is going to happen.

As with Korean dramas, the key is in knowing the shlock is coming, because then you can absorb it with the 95% of your brain (SCIENCE!) that you don't use and save the rest of your brain for the good stuff. With the dramas, you stuff the repetitive flashbacks, the dumb facial expressions, etc. into the dark side of your brain - with the reality dating shows, you stick your knowledge that these are fake bohunk dudes and vapid ladies who are all full of shit into that dark space. It's a form of suspension of disbelief - you set yourself up with a head space where it is all real so you can feel something, since everything about this trash planet in reality makes you feel only revulsion. It's like a tonic for the #DarkestTimeline - it's not a cure, but it is a treatment.

The darkest timeline cannot be cured, the best we can hope for is

Permanent residence in the Quackverse is our last chance of escape

 

[Chuck Downie]

I'll make my picks around noon (unless HC goes soon), another big storm coming to the Maritimes. Gotta get some supplies...

 

[Hollywood Cannon]

I'll make my picks around noon (unless HC goes soon), another big storm coming to the Maritimes. Gotta get some supplies...

It’ll probably be thirty minutes or so. I’m starting my write up soon.

 

[Hollywood Cannon]

So without further adieu the Las Vegas Desert Ducks would like to take you on a trip down memory lane but beware.... it won't be an enjoyable trip.

We go back to October 7th in the year of our lord and savior, 2011 to South Philadelphia where the Philadelphia Phillies were playing the St. Louis Cardinals in Game Five of the National League Division Series.

Now this is a Phillies team that in the last couple years won a World Series, lost a World Series, and lost in the NLCS but this team was the best of them all and it wasn't really close. This was THE team. The best team that I have seen in this city in my lifetime in all of the four major sports. This team was absolutely special and appointment television. They won a team record 102 games that season.

What wasn't to love when every night you could see one of the best pitchers in baseball perform? Roy Halladay, Cliff Lee, Cole Hamels, and Roy Oswalt. That wasn't it however, even when those perennial All-Stars weren't pitching they had a player like Vance Worley (11-3 3.01 ERA) that dazzled. This was a team that every single night you knew they could go out there and win.

Prior to the series Roy Halladay said “I didn’t come here to praise Caesar (The Cardinals), I came here to bury him.” That’s a quote that stuck with me for years. It was also in my signature for years on this site.

This series had went back and forth with the Phillies winning game one, the Cardinals took game two after Desert Ducks Team Rental Pickup Cliff Lee blew a four run lead, and the next two games were split but not without a few incidences with the Rally Squirrel. Yes, the Rally Squirrel. This squirrel first made it's appearance during game three in St. Louis but didn't really make it's presence known until the following game where it ran onto the field and across the plate as Roy Oswalt was throwing his pitch. The pitch was called a ball and the Phillies argued that it should not have been counted due to the distraction. That argument fell on deaf ears. That brought us to Game Five in Philadelphia where a squirrel bothered Oswalt in the outfield prior to the game. Spooky stuff going on here, right?

Now with this category we were giving the edict to pick one moment so that's what i'm officially going to do but i'm going to continue to tell the story beyond that as others have done up to this point.

So Game Five. The night where it all ended. The end of a Dynasty before it's time. The end of fun at Citizens Bank Park and really, the end of the Phillies. This game saw two long time friends and greats face off in what was going to be the pitching duel to end all pitching duels, Roy Halladay against Chris Carpenter.

So with that said my Team Crushing Sports Moment occurred when Rafael Furcal hit a lead off triple to open the game. It was at that moment that I knew it was all over. The Cardinals were going to knock that runner in whether it be a sac fly or whatever and the game would end 1-0 and there was nothing that any of us could do about it. While it wasn't a sac-fly Furcal was knocked home the next at bat by Skip Schumaker on a double making the score 1-0.

Halladay went on to scatter four hits over the next seven innings and he did not allow another run. He even was able to get out of a bases loaded jam in the Top of the 8th to allow the Phillies to still have a reasonable chance to win this game. He did his job like the horse that he was. The offense couldn't muster much of anything either. It was a slow painful death that I knew was coming. Chase Utley lead off the 9th. He swings at the first pitch and hits one deep to the warning track that still to this day if it was any other night I believe that was going to be a homer. It just wasn't meant to be. Hunter Pence grounded out next and that brought us to the final out.

Ryan Howard. The Big Piece. He would fight a few pitches off before inevitably grounding out to first base and yet as the camera panned to the 2nd basemen fielding the ball and throwing to first Howard was no where to be seen. We soon see Howard writhing in pain in foul territory from which we would soon find out was a torn achilles tendon.

We didn't know it yet but it was all over. That would be the last winning season and last playoff berth for the Phillies for now over a decade and it's still going.

The saddest part of all with this game was what we learned years later with Halladay. Roy had felt a pop in his back early in the game (1st or 2nd inning) and fought through the pain and pitched his gem but it would come at the ultimate cost. Halladay's wife, Brandy said this about him returning home that night

“When he came home, he was just in so much pain, and I remember watching him get up out of bed and…he sneezed. He fell onto the ground and was sitting on all fours, and he was in so much pain, he couldn’t get back up and he laid there for probably 10 to 15 minutes,”

This constant pain that would not go away lead Roy to begin taking opioids to lessen the pain that he was experiencing even doing the simplest things let alone doing such a violent act as pitching as a major league level. However, Roy continued to push and try to pitch the use of opioids turned into an addiction. He would go on to enter rehab a couple times and seemingly kicked the habit but once you're an addict you're an addict for life. As many of you know, Halladay would go on to die in a plane crash in November of 2017 with a cocktail of drugs in his system.

So in the end this game of games had a massive reach that was far further than what happened on the field itself. It was the definition of a Crushing Sports Moment. That shit sucked to type out.

@Chuck Downie hit us with a twofer.

 

[Rebels57]

So without further adieu the Las Vegas Desert Ducks would like to take you on a trip down memory lane but beware.... it won't be an enjoyable trip.

We go back to October 7th in the year of our lord and savior, 2011 to South Philadelphia where the Philadelphia Phillies were playing the St. Louis Cardinals in Game Five of the National League Division Series.

Now this is a Phillies team that in the last couple years won a World Series, lost a World Series, and lost in the NLCS but this team was the best of them all and it wasn't really close. This was THE team. The best team that I have seen in this city in my lifetime in all of the four major sports. This team was absolutely special and appointment television. They won a team record 102 games that season.

What wasn't to love when every night you could see one of the best pitchers in baseball perform? Roy Halladay, Cliff Lee, Cole Hamels, and Roy Oswalt. That wasn't it however, even when those perennial All-Stars weren't pitching they had a player like Vance Worley (11-3 3.01 ERA) that dazzled. This was a team that every single night you knew they could go out there and win.

This series had went back and forth with the Phillies winning game one, the Cardinals took game two after Desert Ducks Team Rental Pickup Cliff Lee blew a four run lead, and the next two games were split but not without a few incidences with the Rally Squirrel. Yes, the Rally Squirrel. This squirrel first made it's appearance during game three in St. Louis but didn't really make it's presence known until the following game where it ran onto the field and across the plate as Roy Oswalt was throwing his pitch. The pitch was called a ball and the Phillies argued that it should not have been counted due to the distraction. That argument fell on deaf ears. That brought us to Game Five in Philadelphia where a squirrel bothered Oswalt in the outfield prior to the game. Spooky stuff going on here, right?

Now with this category we were giving the edict to pick one moment so that's what i'm officially going to do but i'm going to continue to tell the story beyond that as others have done up to this point.

So Game Five. The night where it all ended. The end of a Dynasty before it's time. The end of fun at Citizens Bank Park and really, the end of the Phillies. This game saw two long time friends and greats face off in what was going to be the pitching duel to end all pitching duels, Roy Halladay against Chris Carpenter.

So with that said my Team Crushing Sports Moment occurred when Rafael Furcal hit a lead off triple to open the game. It was at that moment that I knew it was all over. The Cardinals were going to knock that runner in whether it be a sac fly or whatever and the game would end 1-0 and there was nothing that any of us could do about it. While it wasn't a sac-fly Furcal was knocked home the next at bat by Skip Schumaker on a double making the score 1-0.

Halladay went on to scatter four hits over the next seven innings and he did not allow another run. He even was able to get out of a bases loaded jam in the Top of the 8th to allow the Phillies to still have a reasonable chance to win this game. He did his job like the horse that he was. The offense couldn't muster much of anything either. It was a slow painful death that I knew was coming. Chase Utley lead off the 9th. He swings at the first pitch and hits one deep to the warning track that still to this day if it was any other night I believe that was going to be a homer. It just wasn't meant to be. Hunter Pence grounded out next and that brought us to the final out.

Ryan Howard. The Big Piece. He would fight a few pitches off before inevitably grounding out to first base and yet as the camera panned to the 2nd basemen fielding the ball and throwing to first Howard was no where to be seen. We soon see Howard writhing in pain in foul territory from which we would soon find out was a torn achilles tendon.

We didn't know it yet but it was all over. That would be the last winning season and last playoff berth for the Phillies for now over a decade and it's still going.

The saddest part of all with this game was what we learned years later with Halladay. Roy had felt a pop in his back early in the game (1st or 2nd inning) and fought through the pain and pitched his gem but it would come at the ultimate cost. Halladay's wife, Brandy said this about him returning home that night

“When he came home, he was just in so much pain, and I remember watching him get up out of bed and…he sneezed. He fell onto the ground and was sitting on all fours, and he was in so much pain, he couldn’t get back up and he laid there for probably 10 to 15 minutes,”

This constant pain that would not go away lead Roy to begin taking opioids to lessen the pain that he was experiencing even doing the simplest things let alone doing such a violent act as pitching as a major league level. However, Roy continued to push and try to pitch the use of opioids turned into an addiction. He would go on to enter rehab a couple times and seemingly kicked the habit but once you're an addict you're an addict for life. As many of you know, Halladay would go on to die in a plane crash in November of 2017 with a cocktail of drugs in his system.

So in the end this game of games had a massive reach that was far further than what happened on the field itself. It was the definition of a Crushing Sports Moment. That shit sucked to type out.

@Chuck Downie hit us with a twofer.

f***. This still hurts. Even more so after you connected the dots between Halladay's injury and his untimely death.