Mike Milbury is mad as hell and he is not going to take it!

So during Sunday's game, Flyers-Rangers, NBC's Mike Milbury was more than upset with the Rangers playing in a crucial rivalry match-up. Granted this was during the first intermission when New York was trailing only 1-0. This was before the Flyers skated all over Lundi and the lackluster Rangers.

Milbury, back to the main point, was near the point where he would be saying four letter words. He felt ashamed that Rangers fans paid good money (which they did) during a poor economy (which we are in) and got to see a travesty of a team. It seemed that viewers were going to see Milbury from his coaching days; swearing at refs and tossing equipment on the ice.

Mad Mike was right, that team played so dull, no life, no emotion and the scoreboard proved that. Despite some effort and a few fights in the third period, there was no pride regained by the blue shirts. In fact I think that when some little kid was struck by a puck (the kid didn't cry!) he would have been more useful on the ice than Coltan Orr or any of their other goons.

This team feels familiar, you know, like those old late 90's Rangers squads that were financed with top dollar free agents but failed to even make the playoffs. Take into consideration about a half a dozen team don't make the playoffs each year, so it's not like the numbers are against them. Poor playing and lack of enthusiasm causes you to miss the playoffs.

WHat?

Please allow me to make a statement reguarding Sal's Keeper's post on Valentines Day:

I in no way advocate the dumb ass non-sense that flowed so seemingly easily out of him in light of the day. It is to be noted that Sal's Keeper knows about has much about relationships as I do about Cricket.

The urge must have struck him to be a complete pussy and suggest a garbage film. My girlfriend and I watched the Stanly Kubrik classic, "A Clockwork Orange," becuase all women are not interested in roses, puppies and chick flicks.

It is offensive that he used our beloved sports blog to discuss such issues and even suggest that games should be skipped to celebrate a made-up holiday.

I apologize to anyone who read his piece and became physically ill such as I did.

In the future, we - as a team - plan to keep our softer sides out of it and stick to the most important things in life like backup catchers such as Sal Fasano.

Why We Watch

It's official: The 2009 New York Yankees are the least likeable team in the history of professional sports.

This off-season, the Yankees signed C.C Sabathia, A.J. Burnett and Mark Texiera, three players who are probably more concerned with which kind of private jet to invest in rather than winning. With these shining additions, the team now has the personality of a ceiling fan and the heart and charisma of a shoe rack.Then of course, there is Alex Rodriguez.

The Yankees statement in light of Rodriguez's admittance to the use of steroids was classic. "Alex - like all of us - is not immune to fault," the Yankees statement said.

Hmm. OK, nobody is perfect, true. But when I think immune to fault, I think, oops I locked my keys in the car, darn. Oops, spilled coffee on white carpet, geez. Not, I spent thousands of dollars to purchase illegal steroids so I could hit a zillion home runs, betray millions of fans and make myself 27.5 million dollars a year.

Now players and coaches are, "rallying around him." My stomach just turned.Something about his mushy interview with ESPN's Peter Gammons must have made Yankees players forget that Alex is an ultra-arrogant, October-choking, cheating-numb-skull, who has always cared more about his own batting average more than where the Yankees fall in the standings.

I'd rally around Michael Phelps before Alex Rodriguez.

A column per day could be written on why to hate this year's Yankees, but rather than waste our time, it is more fitting that we talk about the most likable team in baseball history: the 1955 Brooklyn Dodgers.

Coming into 1955, the Brooklyn Dodgers had lost four of the last seven World Series', all to the New York Yankees. The mechanical Yankees owned the city, seeming to prove each season that they didn't need a black player or personality to win.

The '55 Dodgers’ had a mixture of stars such as Duke Snider and NL MVP Roy Campanella, with role players like 36-year old infielders Pee Wee Reese and Jackie Robinson. Their powerful pitching staff was led by the first black player to ever win 20 games, Don Newcombe and All-Star Johnny Podres. Newcombe also added a .359 batting average and seven home runs.

Brooklyn featured four black players (the most in the league at the time) who added a flare to the game that had never been seen across town.

They finished 13.5 games ahead of the Milwaukee Braves and won first place in the National League. In the American League, the New York Yankees held off the Cleveland Indians by three games to win the pennant.

In the World Series, the Dodgers fell behind 2-0. The series went back to Ebbets Field where the Dodgers found their bats, scoring eight runs two games in a row. They then took a pitchers duel 5-3 - won by Roger Craig - to move ahead 3-2.

Legendary Yankee pitcher Whitey Ford took game six. The home team won each of the first six games, for game 7, it would be back to Yankee Stadium. The Dodgers would have to go in front of 62,000 Yankee fans and take down the giant.

Game 7 stood for far more than just a win or loss for a franchise. It was the separation of two time eras. It was no mistake that this series fell five years after the 50s and five years before the 60s.

The Dodgers represented a pull toward individualism and progression. The Yankees, with their all-white, close cropped crew, pulled toward conservatism. It wasn't until 1956, nine years after the color barrier had been broken, that the Yankees took a team picture with a black player.

Johnny Podres shut out the Yankees in game 7 and Brooklyn finally celebrated its first World Series. Author Pete Hamill said “In Brooklyn that day, it was the Liberation of Paris, Vee Jay Day, New Years Day all rolled into one.”

The '55 Dodgers encompassed the beauty of baseball. It was, for six summer months, a team with skill, desire and personality who came together to create on-field poetry.

So every time you hear a crowd erupt for an A-Rod home run, keep in mind there was a wonderful time in baseball where the game meant more than steroids and salaries.

Valentine's Day: A Day of Love and A Day To Love

With today being Valentine's Day and I all I thought it would be a great idea to tell guys to be nice to their girlfriends and actually do something they want to do today. Listen, I understand there are games to be watched, you might have to miss them. Also, there might be some sports related thing you want to do, you might have to postpone it. You might want to watch Hoosiers today, you might have save that for tomorrow.

The thing is today was never designed for a guy in a relationship. Unless your married, you might get some leeway. So this is a sacrifice day. Some of the above problems can be solved if your girl loves sports. Though it obviously backfires if you love watching a Saturday hockey game, but she is not a hockey fan. I know I've been there before.

So guys let me make this simple. Skip the game today (DVR it or if you're retro throw in a VHS) and let her do whatever she wants for today. If she wants to watch Love Actually, suck it up and watch it. It wasn't that bad... well some scenes are. If she wants to go shopping, make sure you act interested, that will pick you up points. Remember this is crucial to building a relationship... and getting something in return at the end of the day.

Now let me direct this towards the ladies. While the guys are being nice to you and doing many of your commands, try to be supportive of the sports loving guy. Yes, you may think sports are stupid and accomplish nothing, but they rank pretty high with us. Second to only women, sports has been the backbone of our lives. We wear that same hat from 1996 or treat the reporting of pitchers and catchers as its own holiday, sports is a part of our lives. You have your things (chick flicks) and we have our things (Karl Malone picks). So go to a game and actually try to learn the game and a few players to make it easier on us. I know one of my last girlfriends wanted to learn something about hockey so I taught her a little.

So guys remember be kind to your woman and ladies give us a little gift on pitchers and catchers reporting... maybe a new hat of our favorite team.

Jamal Anderson is doing the dirty bird... and the white horse

This weekend Jamal Anderson, former Pro Bowler for the Atlanta Falcons was arrested for possession of cocaine and marijuana.

Last week a photo of Michael Phelps was leaked where he was at a college party taking a hit from a bong.

Saturday, reports were released that Alex Rodriguez failed a drug test, testing positive for steroids in 2003.

They say celebrity deaths happen in three's... I guess you can say athletes with drug problems happen in three's as well.

Let's break these down one at a time.

First off, Jamal... what the hell man!?! Sure, this isn't 1998 and not everyone knows or cares where you are... but both of those drugs are illegal! You volunteered and help kids and you go and do this stuff. Use your head!

Michael... I understand your still a young guy, a kid. Lots of people in their early 20's smoke pot. However, not all people in their early 20's win eight gold medals breaking a mark set by Mr. Spitz. You have a reputation as an American hero and you cannot do something that stupid when you have high regard in this country.

Finally, Alex.... you said that you took the steroids because you felt the huge pressure to succeed in Texas. The only way you were going to succeed in the Lone Star state was if you also pitched 2 of every five game. You should have been learning pitching mechanics from Tom House instead of shooting up illegal substances to get bigger muscles. Now, you're legacy and stats have been compromised.

Listening to the John DiTullio Show this morning with a bunch of Yankee fans still fawning, hoping there is some loop hole to get A-Rod out of his A-Fraud state, it got me to thinking. Well, it's more of me re-thinking a point I love to make.

As Americans, especially young boys, we grow up with this strong hero worship thing involving professional athletes. I'm not saying it's bad, because we all do it at one point. Though for people my age, we got to see what athletes are really like off the field. Courtesy of TMZ and ESPN, we have so much access to LeBron James and Alex Rodriguez. We knew LeBron was pulled over for speeding and Madonna dropped Guy for Alex.

I remember when I was a fan of young, rookie Allen Iverson... before the cornrows. I remember his Reebok commercials and the way it seemed like he was playing on a level I never saw a rook play. Then... he gets nailed for having weed on his person. I tried to defend him, I knew he probably did, but I still denied it.

Then it was Randy Moss. This guy was unreal. His game is so amazing, he can take a one yard wide out screen and turn it into a 75 yard touchdown. Then he is caught lighting up the Mary Jane and running down meter maids.

From then on I picked up from Thomas Boswell's philosophy on admiring athletes. He is quoted in Ken Burn's Baseball when they focused on drug users in 1980's baseball, that we have a thing with hero worship. For a certain number of years we looked up to ball players. Though we should not do that or look down on players either. We should look at them on the level and not place them higher than ourselves or members of our own family. Essentially the core of his argument is that we need to take these guys for who they are... human beings. We place them, the President of the United States and members of the clergy on such a high pedestal. Though we are all human and as the saying goes, err is to human.

The moral of the story is we should not trying to defend, hero worship athletes for when they fall. As members of the human race, they, much like us, are prone to do stupid things. Granted we don't mess up on national television and on the Internet. So let's cut them a little slack but not let them off the hook. That is how O.J. got off of murder.

Best Save of the Season

December 7, 2008. Between 800 and 1000 unenthusiastic fans mosey in to Blue Cross Arena, expecting the usual.

The Rochester Americans will play their 24th game of the season, three of which they've won. Until their docile mascot "Moose" skates out, you could be convinced it's a Section C high school game. The one to 10 ratio of people to dark blue seats makes the arena look like a planetarium backdrop.

As the Amerks starters take the ice, there is an unfamiliar face in net. Six-foot-three-inch goalie Mike Brodeur, in black pads and mask, takes his Darth Vador look between the pipes.

Amerks lose the opening face-off. Brodeur faces shots, penalties and too many defensive lapses to count, but stays strong. He collapses on the puck like a Venus Fly Trap. Twenty-eight shots against, 28 stops for Brodeur.

For the first time in a long time, Amerks fans, all 800, gave their goalie a standing ovation.

"A debut like that is huge," Brodeur said. "You feel the guys take a deep breath. It's a good way to get on the guys' side right away."

Two months later, turns out Brodeur's early December shutout was no fluke. He seemed to shut down every two-on-one, break away and 5-on-3 the Amerks defense gave up.

In his first 20 games in goal, he won 13 with a save percentage of .931 and goals against average of 2.16. He was named to the AHL All-Star team and was awarded a 1-year contract with the Amerks.

Pretty impressive for a guy who was let go by both the Chicago Blackhawks and New York Rangers' organizations.

Director of Player Personnel for the Amerks parent club the Florida Panthers Jack Birch said, "He has the potential to play at the next level."

As Mike hears Birch's quote, he gives a grin that slightly betrays his classical "who me?" goalie attitude. "It's been my goal since I was 5-years old," he said. "Now getting that chance is a good feeling."

After playing for nine minor league teams in five years and fighting through major back surgery, being signed to a 25-day professional tryout contract with 3-18-0-2 Rochester wasn't bleak, it was an opportunity. "I just wanted to go there and try to turn things around," he said.

Brodeur's success may have as much to do with positioning and rebound control as it does his personality. His eyes don't see turnovers and giveaways, they see the next chance to flash his glove and stick, then wait for the applause.

"I see it as my chance to stop the puck," he said. "You can't get frustrated with that stuff or you aren't going to be good in net."

Good in net, he is. In games Brodeur has not been the Amerks goalie, the team is 4-24 and has given up 112 goals.

When it comes to numbers though, it seems like Mike would rather talk about video games (NHL '09 of course) golf or his favorite Adam Sandler comedies, including "Happy Gilmour."

"Once per round, I do the 'Happy Gilmour' shot," he said laughing enthusiastically, "I've perfected it, 300 yards, right down the middle."

He also claims to shoot around 80 on 18 holes. If his scorecard is correct, Rochester may lose him to the PGA before the NHL.

But for right now, Rochester can't afford to lose him. His goaltending has been amnesia for those still feeling the sting of Rochester losing its long beloved affiliation with the Buffalo Sabers. The only thing to complain about now is finding a parking spot.

It is a joy to see the blue sea of seats colored in with fans wearing red and white. Rochester is a city where parents send their children to school in hockey gloves instead of mittens. Where skating is easier than breathing.

Brodeur may never understand his impact on Rochester and the Amerks franchise, but those who have watched him will never forget.

The Rochester Americans signed Mike Brodeur with nothing to lose. Brodeur signed because no one else would take the risk. One embodied the other in the need for redemption. Even though the they won't make the playoffs this season, Rochestarians can have their redemption and love the Amerks again.

Classless Joe.....

Former Beverly Hills 90210 actress Tori Spelling did it. That idiot who played Screech on Saved By The Bell wrote one. Now Joe Torre, a long-time pillar of tact in Major League Baseball has stooped to a tell-all.

Torre's new book The Yankee Years is apparently filled with more drama than an episode of The Bronx is Burning mixed with Behind the Music's Metallica saga.

A few questions are burning more than the '77 Yankees: why now? And, why have Tom Verducci write the book in third-person narrative?

Maybe Torre had some things to get off his chest, but was ashamed. Maybe he was bitter about the Yankees back-door firing. Or maybe he bought condo in Malibu, scuba gear and a top-notch Yoga instructor to try to fit in to the Los Angeles lifestyle, but couldn't foot the bill.

Or maybe Torre went the Barbra Walters route, saying, "Hey, I'm old and probably won't accomplish anything else, so why not drop a few bomb shells?" Could be, but at least Baawaa Waawaa had the guts to write in first person.

Reports say Torre winds up and tosses everyone from David Wells, to Alex Rodriguez to Yankee General Manager Brian Cashman swiftly under the bus. Great reporting Joe. Isn’t saying Wells is a pain and A-rod a narcissist like calling Dennis Rodman weird and Barry Bonds a liar?

This book is likely similar to Oliver Stone's recent film W. about our 43rd president. It's a bunch of stuff we already knew, rehashed with a few bells and whistles to stir up some old-school controversy to make money.

In this case, Torre is more transparent than Terrell Owens' tear drops.

Torre is taking a nose dive off the pedestal New York Yankee fans built for him. Even those who couldn't forget his pathetic attempts at managing the New York Mets and St. Louis Cardinals learned to respect Torre. Now, he’s just a wrinkly version of Jose Canseco.

And just like Canseco, he’s bashing the very thing that made him. Canseco came out like some kind of moralist in a Crusade against steroid users, but steroids made him an All-Star and a World Series champion.

Torre sleep-walked his way through four World Series wins. He had the strongest rosters since the Yankees of the 50s and the league’s highest payroll. Those teams practically managed themselves and when they didn’t, Don Zimmer, Torre’s Karl Rove, was there to whisper in Clueless Joe’s ear.

Often you had to wonder if former Yankee pitching coach Mel Stottlemyre had to nudge Joe awake when it was time to make a pitching change.

Torre should be writing letters of gratitude rather than hanging out the same dirty laundry that has been hanging from the Yankee clothes line for years now. Before Torre joined the Yankees he had a winning percentage of .471, as a Yankee .605. Think that had anything to do with being handed players like Derek Jeter, Mariano Rivera and Bernie Williams?

When it came down to actually having to manage, Torre failed to win for seven straight seasons despite having George’s blank checks.

He should have waited five years after retirement, wrote a nice rose-colored memoir and let it go.

Classless Joe was all set to ride off into the California sun set, likely as a Hall of Fame manager and known as an all-around nice guy. Before two weeks ago, you mention his name to a Yankee fan and they beamed and giggled like a high school cheerleader when James Dean came on. Because of this silly book, instead of James Dean, he’ll be Screech.