This Day in Death

6.10.16: Gordie Howe – DEAD!

Filed under: Dead —James @ 2:52 pm June 19, 2016

GORDIE_HOWESee, back in the day, nobody wore helmets because the science just wasn’t in on the health risks of massive head trauma yet. No, the scourge of the day was carpal tunnel brought on by excessive high-fiving/butt-patting. As you can see, you really had to protect those hands, presumably by sticking them inside of giant glazed hams.



As I’ve said many, many times before, here at the TDiD we do quite a lot of sports posts. It’d be hard to argue otherwise: After all, this is the third consecutive post about an athlete, fourth if you count Harambe the gorilla‘s short-lived career as Mexican wrestler El Apetito Niño (which I do!). I can’t help it, I just love everything about the high-octane world of sports. From the byzantine rules to the technical fouls to the constant stoppages in play to discuss minutia, it’s really just wall-to-wall, completely accessible action. Plus it’s given me a lot of useful tips for getting blood stains out of clothing.

So you can imagine my shock when I picked up my Sports Illustrated football phone and heard the news that hockey great Gordie Howe had passed away. Considered by many to be the greatest to ever play the game, Howe was known by such not-at-all grandiose nicknames as “The Legend,” “The Most,” “Mr. Everything,” and “Mr. Hockey.” Justified? Perhaps. But objectively those nicknames are terrible. I haven’t seen anything manage to be both so extravagant and so unimaginative at the same time since Avengers: Age of Ultron. Ha, just kidding, I never saw Avengers: Age of Ultron. But for real reals, how do you run with “The King of Hockey” and leave “The Howeitzer” on the table? Or what about celebrating Howe’s storied love of on-ice fisticuffs with, I don’t know… “Gordon Fightfoot”? This is why sports analysts almost never become poet laureates.

The Hockey Hall of Famer had had health struggles in recent years, suffering a stroke in 2014. A statement from the Howe family said he passed away peacefully Friday morning with his family by his side.

As a six-time league MVP, Howe arguably was one of the sport’s greatest players, scoring 801 goals in his 26 years in two stints in the National Hockey League.

Definitely great stats, and not to be indelicate, but this here is the TDiD’s 350th post, even more if you count all of those times I accidentally posted articles intended for my Men’s Rights Advocacy subreddit (which I do not!). It’s all nice and fine that old King Gordita there got his due, but your 350th post is the big one. Everyone knows you don’t go all limp when it comes to the semiseptcentennial celebration, yet I haven’t received a single congratulatory gift basket or congratulatory erotic cake, or even a congratulatory copyright infringement notice for all the header images I don’t pay for.

Now, I’m not being obtuse here. Of course no one would claim that writing a bunch of blog posts of inconsistent quality is an achievement on the level of a 4-decade career as the best hockeybro ever to play the game… and quite frankly that’s what’s wrong with America. I mean, come on! Look, who was there for you the day Prince died? All media outlets, sure, but who respected his audience enough to sit on that story and make sure it was the musician Prince and not Jigme Namgyel Wangchuck, the newborn prince of Bhutan (who’s doing fine, by the way, you’re welcome)? Hell, I’m still vetting some sources on that, just to be sure. Meanwhile the lamestream media went whole hog with their assumptions, Anderson Cooper got to buy another sapphire-encrusted yacht, and the wheel of mediocrity continues to turn undisputed. I guess what I’m really trying to say is I need about $40 until the end of next week.




Source: CNN and The Hockey Writers (header image)

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6.6.16: Kimbo Slice – DEAD!

Filed under: Dead —James @ 1:40 pm June 13, 2016

KIMBO_SLICEGranted, he was pretty intimidating, but you could put that durag on Fred Savage and I’d be just as scared. Wait, no, that’s not true.

 

As I’ve had to (ironically, at this point) disclaim many times, we don’t do many sports posts around here. Nope, I’ve sat through Over the Top, both Major Leagues, and all of those Karate Kid movies, and the evidence is clear; Sports dramatically raise your risk of exposure to dated buttrock soundtracks. Talk to your doctor if you’ve experienced symptoms of Chronic Obstructive Loggins Disease, Hagar Immunodeficiency Syndrome (HIV), or Bononucleosis.

Nonetheless, today we’re talking about the death of Kevin Ferguson, aka Kimbo Slice, and not just because we share the same nickname. Of course, the difference is that he became known as “Slice” after leaving a large cut on an opponent’s face, whereas I got it because I once ate half the menu at the Cheesecake Factory to win a bet. The medics said I wouldn’t survive the night, although I think they underestimated just how high I’ve raised the tolerance threshold for abusing my body. It’s a special kind of discipline.

But back to people who aren’t me for a moment. Slice, a controversial figure in the worlds of MMA and boxing, died last week at the age of 42 due to heart failure resulting from a tumor on his liver. It’s a surprisingly early end to his life and career, but at least he’s in heaven punching angels now. Yeah, I feel I’ve pieced the jist of the Bible together pretty well over the years.

He played middle linebacker at Miami’s Palmetto High and showed the potential to play in college before Hurricane Andrew caused Palmetto High’s season to be cut short and his scholarship offers vanished. He flunked out of college at Bethune-Cookman University and was homeless for a brief time. He worked as a limo driver, strip-club bouncer and bodyguard before rising to fame through his viral street-fighting videos.

Ugh. Even for someone who lived as hard and fast as Slice did, 42 is still a depressingly young age to die. Life doesn’t even begin until 50, if the t-shirt section at Spencer Gifts is to be believed. As an athlete in your early 40s there are still so many ears left uncauliflowered, so many used mouthguards left to sell on eBay to recoup unsuccessful vanity record label losses, and at least one sad and misguided late-career comeback attempt. I was really looking forward to being let down by that in 10 years.

 

Sources: ESPN and Yell Magazine (header image)

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6.3.16: Muhammad Ali – DEAD!

Filed under: Dead —James @ 3:40 pm June 6, 2016

SvA_fullAli and Superman, seen here settling a dispute over the most tasteful way to publicly wear too-short man trunks. I’m giving it to Ali on a technicality, since Supes is kinda cheating by wearing a unitard underneath. Show us them supergams or go back to Krypton, Kal-El!


As I’ve long since gotten sick of telling you people, I only do sports posts on this here laffy laff site when someone of great notability has passed. You see, most sports are simply too violent for me. I’m a humanitarian, and I can’t bring myself to witness people putting themselves through that kind of punishment for such trivial rewards as fame and fortune. Now watching street people fight each other for half of my Filet-O-Fish, well, that’s a beautiful display of survival skills. Maybe I’m just more interested in what really matters in this world.

Regardless of why your lapsed morals caused you to develop such an unquenchable bloodlust, you’ve no doubt marveled at the almost unbearably graphic facepunchery of storied boxman and civil rights activist Muhammad Ali. Unfortunately, Ali passed away over the weekend due to a respiratory illness brought on by Parkinson’s Disease. While the odds of him triumphantly punching his way out of the grave and challenging Death to a rematch are slim, I advise keeping an eye on it for a few days anyway, as that would be wicked metal.

Crowned “Sportsman of the Century” by Sports Illustrated and “Sports Personality of the Century” by the BBC, Ali was noted for his pre- and post-fight talk and bold fight predictions just as much as his boxing skills inside the ring.

But he was also a civil rights campaigner and poet who transcended the bounds of sport, race and nationality.

Asked how he would like to be remembered, he once said: “As a man who never sold out his people. But if that’s too much, then just a good boxer.

“I won’t even mind if you don’t mention how pretty I was.”

In his later years, Ali’s struggle with Parkinson’s stripped him of both his mobility and his characteristic speech. It’s like he made some bizarre Faustian deal where he got to be great at two things and then had those two things taken away from him. You know, I don’t get why the devil feels like he has to pull that sneaky shit every time. You’re already getting an eternal soul, why add insult to injury with the whole “ironic loophole” thing? Let some poor schmuck enjoy 70 or so years of having the girthiest dong without any weird unforeseen complications, and then you get to hold complete dominion over him for literally all of the remaining time in existence. It’s already a pretty lopsided deal, and you’re trying to sweeten the pot? Pettiness does not look good on you, Prince of Darkness.


Source: BBC

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