Ok, bad joke. You’ll see.

A little preface. Weak stream. Urgent need to go. Incomplete emptying. These days it seems you can’t watch a sporting or news channel without hearing how men, basically, can’t hold it in. A fact that assuredly isn’t helped by all that beer and coffee and watermelon consumption. I find the commercials annoying, but the product I’m about to show you is nothing short of offensive.

Presenting: The UroClub (apparently TM).

I say this without hyperbole: this is the dumbest thing I’ve ever seen. I’m almost offended more as a golfer than just as a man (though I’m offended on behalf of my gender, too). First of all, I have never played on a golf course that didn’t have at least one porta-john per nine holes, and many have two per. Second of all, you’re on a freakin’ golf course! If waiting just absolutely is not an option, you duck behind a tree, or hell behind your golf cart, and take a whiz, and no one’s gonna know. On the other hand, if you use this thing, peeing into it is the only possible thing you could be doing. You’re not going to take any kind of realistic practice swing with it, trust me. And no one puts a towel over their hands to take a practice swing. And I’m trying desperately not to visualize how most of the old duffers who really need this are going to manipulate their fly discreetly enough to do anything but add to the carnival atmosphere of using this thing.

To top it all off, when you’re done, you’ve got a fake plastic golf club filled with urine! That’s fun at parties, I’m sure. If the inventor of this product is making any money at all, it’s a crime against everyone’s better judgement.

(h/t to Deadspin, where at least Christmas Ape managed to turn a Seinfeld reference dirty.)

In case you missed it. . .

I would have preferred not to link to the giant game highlight video, but it’s the only one that gives me what I want. Fast-forward to about 3:15 and watch the last five seconds of the game. Make sure to stick around past the celebration to watch the slow motion replay. I think I gave myself a hernia while watching it live. Now I think. . . and I’ve never been quite clear on this. . . but I think the goal has to go in before time expires (as compared to the NBA, where the shot merely needs to be ‘on the way’), so I *think* that Hossa’s last shot wouldn’t have counted. And just hypothetically, but if that had happened. . . well, I really don’t have the words to describe any of this. It was a good season of hockey-watchin’, and congrats to the Wings.

Well. That’s a new one on me.

Towards the end of the 2nd OT, Petr Sykora* told the rinkside commentator that he was going to score the winning goal. He then went out and took a penalty. But then in the middle of the 3rd OT, he scored it. Can’t say I’ve seen anything like that in hockey before. I’m sure quite a bit of that has to do with the fact that putting a commentator in between the two benches is a development that came about in the last five years. Still. Hockey players generally don’t do that, since the odds of being the one player in forty who actually scores is. . . well I was informed there would be no math. Anyway, it was pretty damn cool.

*Unlike Peter Bondra, he’s resisted the urge to buy the vowel.

Gotta love the Stanley Cup Playoffs, and the potential for these insanely long games. Tonight’s was only the sixth* in SC Finals history to hit the 3rd OT. Interestingly, in the one that went the longest, the game winning goal was scored by a man named Klima. First name, Petr. What’s in a name, eh?

*You might hear it’s the seventh such game. I say Brett Hull’s skate is still in the crease. Thus, that game has technically not ended, and does not exist. I will not let this go.

Anyway, Game Six on Wednesday night in Pittsburgh. Should be exciting.

The year was 1996. The Quebec Nordiques Colorado Avalanche were on their way to winning the cup. Dino Ciccarelli was soon to express disbelief over a handshake. We were soon to see the last true playoff “white out”. Residents of Florida were soon to take up the throwing of plastic rodents. And amidst all the oddities, in January of that year, St Louis Blues coach Mike Keenan would make the sanest decision in all of sanity. He would prevent his team from taking the ice wearing this monstrosity:

Click here. If you dare.

Yes, it was to be one of the fabled 3rd Jerseys, a true marketing extravadanza. I’m glad we don’t have to live with pictures of #99 in one of those.

(Hat tip to ESPN’s page 2 (and presumably Mr. Uni Watch) for the find.)

Just a quick post, since it’s Masters week.

Ten years ago this week, Jack Nicklaus finished tied for sixth at The Masters. Big whoop, you say? Well consider: He finished only four shots back. His last three rounds were under par, for a total of five under for the tournament. He finished higher than Tiger Woods. He was 58 years old. I’ll repeat: fifty-freakin’-eight! He had only one hip. Seriously.

Anyway, just throwing that out there as one of the more underrated sports performances in recent history. Thought it deserved its own note.