Oh, quarantine life. Is there anything better to do when isolating yourself from society as a deadly pandemic ravages the planet than indulging in obscure sports movies? Honestly, probably. But we’re not really the “better” type. Besides, who doesn’t like a sports movie? Actually, probably a lot of people… but nobody reading any of the content we produce, that’s for damn sure. So here we go.

The Movie: Goon

The Sport: Ice Hockey

The Oversimplified Plot: A likeable dive bar bouncer beats up a hockey player at a game and gets a minor league contract out of it. Because of course that would happen.

Key Cast Members: Seann William Scott, Liev Schreiber

Rating (?/10): 6.5

The Good: Scott is criminally underrated as an actor, and while “likeable, somewhat dimwitted hockey tough guy” isn’t exactly a role that will stretch his method abilities, he nails it as Doug “The Thug” Glatt. You do kind of find yourself pulling for him, much in the way you pulled for Adam Sandler’s Happy Gilmore to beat Shooter McGavin. It’s meant to be a mostly irreverent comedy and succeeds at that, but there is just about enough suspense in the right moments to make you wonder about the outcome.

Irreverent though it may be, it stuck mostly to the notion that it is a hockey movie, and succeeds. Ross Rhea, the enforcer played by Schreiber, seems to be modeled after a real hockey goon – possibly Rob Ray of the similar sounding name, or Gino Odjick. There’s also a scene where Rhea clubs an opposing player upside the head with his stick, ala Marty McSorley, resulting in a suspension and demotion to the minors. (editor’s note: It’s prevailingly unlikely that McSorley was an influence beyond that incident, as he was actually a fairly talented player in his day who also happened to be good at beating face. Guys like Odjick and Ray were simply brawlers.)

Also, while Scott and Schreiber are the only real well-known names in the cast, some of the more minor parts were executed brilliantly. Richard Clarkin is downright perfect as washed up veteran Gord Ogilvey. Jonathan Cherry’s portrayal of goalie Marco Belchior is over the top, but captures the essence of goalies’ legendary quirkiness. Goon even features a bit part by legendary NHL pugilist Georges Laraque, including an homage to one of his real fights where he very politely asked his opponent if he wanted to square up, and then wished the opponent sincere good luck before they traded blows. 

Lastly, it’s loosely (very VERY loosely) based on a true-ish story of Doug Smith, who played hockey on his fighting merits alone in the 1980s. And who doesn’t like a true-ish story?

The Bad: It’s one thing for a movie’s villain to be a hateable character. Everyone hated Alan Rickman in Die Hard, right? That’s because the late, great Rickman was freaking awesome at his craft. Jay Paruchel plays Scott’s best pal in the movie and is easily the worst part of it. His character is so damn annoying that he nearly made me turn off an otherwise thoroughly entertaining movie on multiple occasions. I have no idea if it was just a horribly conceptualized character, or Paruchel just taking it upon himself to be as brutally annoying as possible. Either way, edit him out if anyone ever remasters this.

In most sports movies, the actual sports action is fraught with unrealism. Not always to the point of Rocky IV, where Sylvester Stallone and Dolph Lundgren trade heavyweight haymakers for a dozen rounds when in reality any ONE such punch from a heavyweight landing ends the fight, but Goon is no different. Some of the action is good. Some of it, surely intentionally for comedic effect, is nonetheless farcical. I know it’s a comedy but would prefer the sports part of it stay somewhat true to form.

Lastly, some of the language is overly crass. And listen, I have a difficult time going a dozen words without dropping an f-bomb in conversation sometimes so I’m far from a prude. But there’s a juncture you reach beyond the comedic value of shock effect where you may ask yourself, “ok, was that string of homophobic slurs really necessary or could the movie have survived without it?”

Should you watch it?: I mean, sure. You got anything better to do right now? Joking aside, with reasonably set expectations, Goon is well worth 90 minutes of your time. It’s on Netflix so it’s easily accessible. Unless of course you hate fun.

Watch it and let us know what you think @thestainsports on Twitter.

And now he’s released, per multiple online reports, including theScore.

He, of course, is Brendan Leipsic. If you’ve been under a rock the last few days, a private Instagram chat of Leipsic and his friends, including fellow fringe NHLer Jack Rodewald, was leaked publicly. In this chat, as you might imagine there would be when a bunch of testosterone-fueled, intellectually underdeveloped 20-somethings are involved, were a bunch of appalling comments about women, sex, and drug use among other things. You can google them if you please but we’re not in a hurry to link to stuff like that.

As evolved as we like to think we are as a species, degrading rhetoric, especially about women and especially by men is still rampant in the workplace, in social circles, online, etc. For Christ’s sake, they even make a freaking documentary about incels. The man elected to the presidency famously bragged about grabbing women by their private parts with impunity. His presumptive opponent is himself the subject of assault allegations, albeit ones with dubious merit. Yeah, it’s 2020 and here we are.

Before you think that I’m trying to virtue signal or paint myself as some kind of social justice warrior for the aggrieved, or use this situation to make a political statement, hear me out. I’m a couple months shy of 42 now, so long removed from my teens and 20s. But in my youth, I made jokes and comments that would be considered patently offensive by most people, attempting to be clever and edgy to get a rise out of my friends, succeeding only in sounding like an asshole. It’s pretty embarrassing, and one day, Brendan Leipsic will probably look back on this with embarrassment too.

But here’s what really pisses me off. While we are seeing plenty of justified commentary about what a jerk Leipsic is on social media, we’re also seeing pathetic lamentations of losing the assumption of privacy. Let me say that again. A professional athlete makes repeated abhorrent comments about women in a chat with his friends, and people are upset that those comments didn’t stay private.

Welcome to my Ted Talk. You have no privacy. When you go online, your activity is tracked. When you talk, people are listening. It’s not conspiratorial. Pull out your phone right now, make a comment about sleeper sofas, and then open your Facebook app to see what ads are on your feed. Your conversations are not private, and they are not safe. Your social security number is not safe. Your credit card information is not safe. There is a multi-billion dollar industry in identity protection because NOTHING YOU DO IS DAMN PRIVATE. I personally buy an annual membership to an identity protection company. I’d tell you which one but they don’t advertise with us so you will just have to guess.

Your phone is password protected. Your computer has a log in. Every website you visit makes you log in. If you work for a large company, they likely have a policy of making you lock your work station when you leave for breaks, or at the end of the shift. They may have keystroke monitoring software. They may actually be tracking your online activity as you “work.” Why? Because nothing is private.

When you’re driving, the police can just scan your license plate. If you’re out to eat, and someone was so inclined, they could take your drinking glass and harvest your DNA from it. If you’re having a conversation at the restaurant, someone could hear you if they wanted to. And not just the person sitting at the next table. Anyone with a few bucks to purchase a particular kind of microphone can.

The Internet is forever. Things don’t go away and things don’t get forgotten. Just ask Josh Hader. Screenshots are a thing. Ask anyone with a smart phone and 99.9% of people know how.

When you travel out of the country, what happens? That’s right, they stamp your damn passport.

When you pull out your aforementioned cellphone to call or text somebody, what happens? That’s right, your location is mapped by a cell tower.

You ever walk by a storefront and see a promotion come up on their digital advertising board that oddly lists some kind of special for exactly your demographic? It’s not that odd. They have a camera with technology in it that immediately determines your gender and approximate age.

Nothing. Is. Private.

So if your first reaction to the news of Leipsic and his friends’ commentary in their “private” Instagram chat was, “whatever happened to the presumption of privacy?” I have some news for you. What you are really saying is, “what has the world come to when legally adult men can’t engage in horrifyingly degrading rhetoric with impunity?” Is that really how you want to be interpreted? I didn’t think so. Now go delete that tweet. Hopefully for you, nobody screenshotted it.

This has been my Ted Talk.

It’s the subject that some members of the media keep tiptoeing around the edges of.

In his fairly brief but productive career, Todd Gurley established himself as one of the best players in Rams franchise history. That undeniable excellence led to him signing a massive, record-breaking $60 million contract extension. It was massive. It was indeed record-breaking. And it was also heavily criticized. “Never pay up like that for a running back,” they crowed!

In hindsight, they would appear correct. That said, when you pay someone big bucks, irrespective of position (or even sport for that matter), you’re hoping that they don’t get hurt or otherwise suffer a major drop in production. The thought process is, you wouldn’t make an investment like that in someone unless you were certain they were bought in.

Year one went fine. They probably shouldn’t have lost to the Falcons in the playoffs but multiple special teams turnovers is a hard thing to overcome. Year two was going swimmingly until what appeared to be a minor knee injury hit Gurley late in the season. Out of what seemed like an abundance of caution, the team rested Gurley for the end of the regular season, and leaned on late season addition CJ Anderson to lead the rushing attack.

Is this when it went wrong?

Anderson played well, and Gurley didn’t get significant playing time for much of the playoffs, including the Super Bowl loss to the Patriots. That Anderson played well shouldn’t have surprised anyone. He is a veteran, terrific in pass protection, and the Rams had one of the best offensive lines in the league. The surprise was that he basically Wally Pipped Gurley.

Gurley maintained from day one that his injury was minor, and nothing to worry about. The team played coy with his condition, of course, and that led to rampant speculation by internet pundits with the combined orthopedic experience of a garden gnome and stone moss. He needs another ACL repair! It’s chronic arthritis! They’re gonna amputate! It’s CTE of the KNEE!!! Ok, I just made that last one up because it rhymes, but you get the point.

And he was asked. A lot. Why aren’t you playing if the knee is ok? Are you hurt more than you’re letting on? Does it bother you that CJ is getting more reps? Verbally, Gurley always said the right thing. As long as the team wins, etc. etc. But his tone contained an edge.

Fast forward to the Super Bowl, we all know what happened.

Is THIS where it went wrong?

Gurley claimed to be healthy yet he was barely involved in the game plan. Overall, head coach Sean McVay’s game plan was criminally inept for someone who has the reputation of being an offensive genius, and backed that up by taking largely the same offensive roster that the brutally incompetent Jeff Fisher had, and putting up consistently gaudy point and yardage totals. But in the Super Bowl, by his own admission, he “overprepared,” got too complicated and let a very average Patriots defense shut the offense down almost completely. Was Gurley thinking, “they rode me like a horse the last two seasons to get here, and now they do me like this?”

Enter the offseason, the team still remains coy about Gurley’s medical status, offering tepid platitudes like “we’re just managing his offseason work,” and “he’s a big part of our plans.” Meanwhile, Gurley certainly appeared to exaggerate a kind of modified limp to keep the narrative going. Was he enjoying it, all the speculation?

He sat out the preseason, but that wasn’t weird – virtually all Rams veterans did. Then he split carries with Malcom Brown in week 1.

Is this where it went wrong? Was he now upset that he was basically being platooned? The injury narrative wouldn’t stop coming up. He also didn’t look as explosive as he had in the good old days, but one also couldn’t be blamed for wondering if Gurley was really trying. Field vision was never really Gurley’s strong suit, as he frequently ran right up his offensive lines’ backs as gaping holes were left unused mere feet to either side. But get him into the open field, he’s virtually impossible to bring down with his combination of size and speed. But middling effort to break the first level didn’t often result in that.

There were games like the shocking loss to Tampa Bay, where the unprepared Rams basically got boatraced by the Bucs, and Gurley got only six touches. There were games where Gurley was actually very effective, but underused, such as the shocking loss to a Steelers team led by Mason Rudolph, and without James Conner. Sure, an unconscionable fumble call and even more egregious upholding of said call by the replay booth on a Jared Goff pass that traveled nearly 15 yards down the field led to the Steelers’ only touchdown, but trailing in the fourth quarter Gurley wasn’t used once despite averaging nearly six yards a carry and not being hurt.

Was Sean McVay sending a message?

There were other games Gurley was good. He was a workhorse in a key win over the Bears. Dominated a hapless Seahawks defense in a crucial division matchup. But the season fizzled, the team missed the playoffs, and Gurley ended up with career worst numbers.

Did he care? The man had been paid, after all.

And here we are today, and we know what happened. The Rams decided to absorb a massive amount of dead money on their cap rather than pay an unmotivated malcontent to share time in their backfield. He’s now a motivated happy camper back in Atlanta in the state where he rose to college prominence at Georgia.

We may always wonder when it went wrong, and why it went wrong, but there’s little doubt who was captaining that ship. Still, Gurley gave Rams fans some of their best memories in recent times, and we should thank him for that. It’s probably a little nicer than his last message on social media to the team. “@Rams Thanks for the check.”

The message appeared to have gotten through to Andrew Friedman. In 2017, after falling one game short of a World Series title, Friedman did little to improve the Dodgers’ roster, figuring correctly that the team was well enough constructed to make another run. In 2018, after getting resoundingly thumped by a vastly superior Red Sox team, Friedman once again effectively sat out the sweepstakes for Manny Machado and Bryce Harper, making only an absurdly transparent token offer to Harper, electing instead to make targeted incremental upgrades through Joe Kelly and AJ Pollock. Both seemed astute signings on the surface, but Kelly turned out to be inconsistent, and Pollock, who seems like he was born on the injured list, once again struggled with injuries and saw his center field defense alarmingly crater. Oh, and the team didn’t make it past the NLDS, getting eliminated by the eventual world champion Nationals and their built-for-a-short-series three-headed-monster rotation. 

Yes, heading into the defining offseason of his Dodger tenure and one of the more wildly exciting free agency periods in recent memory in terms of who was available, he seemed to have gotten the message. The team could really use a star or two to push them back into World Series contention. And those stars were out there to be gotten. Friedman himself, who rarely answers any type of question related to the team with anything other than non-committal and vague generalities, said the team had as many as 12 “elite” players they were targeting this Winter. So far, only Blake Treinen has joined ranks. And Treinen, while possessing absolutely malevolent stuff, is a reclamation project who was non-tendered by the A’s. 

The big three free agents are obviously off the market, and only Gerrit Cole was even made an offer. Other potentially interesting names like Josh Donaldson remain available, but the team has shown little to no interest. If a truly “elite” performer is going to be added, at this point it will have to be through trade. The rumor mill, which is rarely to be believed, has churned out names like Francisco Lindor and Mike Clevinger of the Indians, or Mookie Betts and David Price of the Red Sox, but nothing has materialized. The alleged holdup is Friedman’s reticence to include prized prospect Gavin Lux in any deal, but again, requisite grains of salt are prescribed here. 

Matters get even more complicated. Fan favorite and Cy Young finalist Hyun Jin Ryu signed with the Blue Jays, so now not only is the roster not improved, it’s inarguably worse. 

It’s barely 2020, and lots can still happen. Then again, nothing could also happen. And if nothing does, people are going to have some questions. 

In the wake of the Dodgers’ surprising and devastating (if you’re a Dodgers’ fan) loss to the Nationals in Game 5 of the NLDS, there was an understandable amount of vitriol thrown at Dave Roberts and Clayton Kershaw. This was especially present in the Dodger blogosphere, which in their defense, has a readership they have to cater to in order to stay relevant. 

I don’t want to spend a ton of time on that. Suffice it to say this. If you loved Dave Roberts for the last few seasons, you loved him in spite of his blithering ineptness at in game management, ESPECIALLY when it comes to the bullpen. If you’ve loved Clayton Kershaw because of the fact that he’s the best regular season pitcher of this generation and it’s not close, you loved him despite is propensity to choke in the postseason. Even that isn’t entirely fair to say. He HAS had some good postseason starts, and a couple of dynamite relief appearances. His overall resume in the postseason, however, is merely mediocre. Which when you compare it to the unapproached brilliance of his regular season career is probably why people misapply the choker label to him. 

They both crapped the bed in Game 5. They both deserve to remain employed. (Yes, I’m a hypocrite. Yes, I have called for Roberts’ firing in the past, but even after his most egregious display of in game ineptness, I have come around to his other qualities, and accepted the fact that all other available managers out there are worse.)

Here is the real problem. His name is Corey Seager. I know. I know. I DO know. We all love him. He’s cute. He chews bubble gum. He’s loaded with offensive talent. But he’s a massive problem. I know this is an unpopular opinion, but it’s the unfortunate truth. 

People love Seager because of his virtually perfect left-handed swing that results in a billion doubles every season. They love his boyish good looks, and his “aw shucks” charm, and his honest-to-goodness 100% dedication to being a great player. They love all the same things about him that I do. Here’s the problem.

In the postseason, he sucks. If that’s not enough to make you hate me, there’s more. In the entire history of baseball, he’s one of the worst postseason players. In 131 career postseason plate appearances, he has an OPS of .605. That’s atrocious. The argument can be made that a 131 plate appearance sample size is not indicative of a player’s ability, but at 25 years of age, Seager has already had more postseason plate appearances than the overwhelming majority of players in baseball history. I was going to say 99%, but didn’t have the desire to do the research and calculations. Still, I’d venture to say I’m not far off. 

BUT WAIT, some of you might say! He was a Gold Glove finalist and defensive metrics grade him out as being above average so at least there is that! Matt Kemp was once a Gold Glove finalist. Adrian Gonzalez, possibly the worst fielding first baseman of all time, won four Gold Gloves. The people that vote on these things are at best clueless, and at worst braindead. 

And then you have defensive metrics. And before you dismiss me as a “Get off my lawn,” type, I’m not. I wholeheartedly believe in analytics and availing yourself of all data out there when it comes to making a decision. But defensive metrics? Whoo boy… Amazingly, they still take into consideration where infield coaches position the player. Yes, you read that right. Because the Dodgers dedicate a ton of resources into data acquisition, and apply it to their coaching, Seager is rated a high quality defensive shortstop. Sure, they get some of the evaluations right. Andrelton Simmons? Amazing. Matt Chapman? Like Brooks Robinson and Ozzie Smith had a son. Nolan Arenado? Barely above average. What the f***? Admittedly, that’s cherry picking but it’s only one example out of many. You can do your own Googling if you want, and find plenty of your own “wtf” cases of players’ defensive values. 

At the end of the day, Seager is a tree stump on defense who generally catches what is hit to him. (Here is  a link to his Fangraphs Inside Edge Fielding page if you want to bother) You can absolutely deal with it if he hits, which during the regular season he generally does when he’s healthy. In the postseason, he doesn’t. He’s had more plate appearances in the postseason than approximately 99% of players who have ever played the game, and has some of the worst numbers of any player in postseason history. 

For a player whose value is tied nearly exlusively to his offensive production, due to his utter haplessness on defense, that isn’t good. 

Unfortunately, it gets worse. Seager earned $4 million in 2019 to provide barely league average production. One can fairly argue that after missing a season with injury, it would be fair to cut him some slack. If that is the argument, it can also be fairly pointed out that the Dodgers made the World Series in 2018 without him, nearly won it in 2017 thanks far more to Charlie Culberson than him, and got eliminated in the first possible round in 2019 WITH him. 

Before long, Seager is going to get a contract that pays him in the neighborhood of $25 million a season. Yes, he is cute. Yes, he chews bubble gum. Yes, he tries his damned best. Yes, we all love him. But for a team that continually wants to cut payroll despite having virtually unlimited financial resources at its disposal, can you justify spending that kind of money on one of the worst postseason players in the entire history of the sport?

The Dodgers have a Corey Seager problem. They have MANY problems. But they have a Corey Seager problem, and it’s serious.