The worlds oldest hockey stick

Last post about hockey until next year, I promise.

Mark Presley of Berwick, Nova Scotia posesses what he believes to be a 170 year old hockey stick. A rigorous series of tests including dating of the wood and family records seems to show that this may indeed be the case. Presley's claim comes after that of Bobby Rouillard of Quebec who claims to own a considerably older hockey stick dating from the mid 1600's. Rouillard is so convinced of the authenticity of the stick that he has offered it for sale on Ebay for $ 1,000,000. Although the Ottawa Citizen's article seems to dispute Rouillard's claim in favor of Presley, I see it (along with Johnstown Chiefs great Denis Lemieux) as nothing more than the typical conspiracy formented by les cochons Anglais.

My initial examination of the pictures leads me to believe that rules regarding blade size were not enforced in the 19th and 17th centuries although I am sure that the NHL is at this very moment working on rule changes to address the use of antediluvian equipment in league play. More importantly, correct dating of the artifacts will probably tell us with some certainty when the first high sticking offense was commited, and when the first player was forced to sit under a tree for two minutes and feel shame.

Les Glorieux ruin yet another date in Igloo history

Last night, the Montreal Canadiens defeated the Pittsburgh Penguins 5-2, knocking them out of the playoffs and considerably moving up the tee-times for the Pens players. Although it was an awful loss for the Pens, it does provide some nice historical continuity- since the Penguins will be playing at a new arena next year, it was the last Penguins game to be played at home. Interestingly enough, it was Montreal that defeated the Penguins in their first home game on October 11th, 1967 (Habs won 2-1.) I was seven months old at the time and can't recall that game very clearly, but the game last night has been burned into my psyche.

I actually have great fondness for the Canadiens. My family is originally from northern Maine, not far from Quebec, and I have spent a great deal of time on both sides of the border over the years. Montreal is one of my favorite places to visit and I look forward to spending more time in La Belle Province. That being said, I am a true homer and it was painful to watch the superstar laden Penguins being dismantled by an older, smaller and, on average, less talented team. The operative word, however, is team. Montreal's forwards played with a ferocious back check that stacked up the faster Penguins at the blue line and any Penguin who ventured near the Montreal crease was quickly smothered by Montreal's defense.

To paraphrase P.J. O'Rourke, old age and guile once again beats youth, innocence and a bad haircut.

So, I'll be cheering for Montreal for the rest of the series. I think they are balanced enough to make it all the way. I also have to cheer for them because they have my all time favorite sports mascot- Youppi. Youppi is the only sports mascot to have served in two leagues (he started out as the mascot for the now defunct Montreal Expos) and the only one, as far as I know, that has been ejected from a professional game. Youppi was thrown out of a Dodgers game in 1989 for annoying the hell out of Tommy Lasorda, something I have always greatly admired.

Funeral for a Soldier

Last week, a soldier killed in Afghanistan was laid to rest in a small town near where I live. By coincidence, my son goes to elementary school in the same town and met the soldier a few years ago when he stopped by to visit the children. By all accounts the soldier was an all American type of kid- well liked by his neighbors, a good athlete and respected throughout the community. I picked up my son at school the day his body was brought back to town and the children had lined the streets waving small American flags as the hearse passed by. The light poles were adorned with yellow ribbons and the town had turned out in a show of unified sympathy you only see in small town America.

For a 10 year old, my son asks some pretty tough questions. "Why did he die ?" he asked, followed by "Are we winning the war ?" The local news had covered the story in print and on television and it led the six o'clock news for a couple of nights so it became a running discussion between the two of us. I struggled to explain the war in Afghanistan to my son, the nuances of counter insurgency, the difficulty in defeating a group of guerrillas vs. a standing army. During my time in the Army I had been an intelligence analyst while serving in the Ranger Regiment. My job was reading intelligence reports regarding the Soviets and their invasion of Afghanistan- how they operated, their tactics and techniques and then condensing them for dissemination to the three Ranger battalions for what we thought was an inevitable hot war in Europe. Back then I gained a grudging respect for the Mujahedin and their ability to bloody the Russian bear. Little did I know that the seeds that would eventually lead to Al Qaeda, Bin Laden and 9/11 had been planted.

So why did he die ? The interviews with local citizens on television mostly addressed that question with the answer that he died "defending our freedoms" and "protecting us." I'm not so sure about that. I'm pretty sure that he died first and foremost, as soldiers have for generations, for his comrades and his unit. Grand geopolitical strategy was probably not going through his head in his final battle- he was probably looking out for his buddies and doing the best he could to stay alive. Although I tried to make the case in my head that he died protecting us here in America, I just couldn't make the mental jump that would connect the Taliban and scattered Al Qaeda forces to a direct threat against me and my family. Thinking that through made me feel horrible- he didn't need to die for me and my family, we would have gladly taken the remote chance of a Taliban-Al Qaeda attack on Pittsburgh if it mean't he was safe and sound.

Did he, and over 1,700 other coalition soldiers, die to bring freedom to Afghanistan ? I'm not too convinced on that score either. This wasn't like U.S. troops rolling into Paris or Holland during World War 2. Afghanistan was never really a country in the traditional sense, even during the best of times. Tribalism, war lords financing private armies through the drug trade and various religious factions just don't fit the profile of a country begging for liberation. The U.S. and its allies have suppressed the Taliban to a large extent in many areas of the country but its likely that once the U.S. pulls out the result will be an immediate slide back into its quasi feudalistic former self. (Side note- for a little more on the barbaric nature of this country read this article from Canada's Ottawa Citizen about how Canadian forces witnessed the systematic rape of young boys by the Afghan police and were powerless to stop it.)

I'm still struggling with the answer. The U.S. invasion after 9/11 made sense- root out and destroy Al Qaeda and those responsible for harboring them. On that count, it is widely agreed that the operation was a success. Al Qaeda, which some reports show as having no more than a couple of hundred members in the country, has been dispersed and generally hunted down. I highly doubt that they have constructed some super secret underground facility in the mountains and are working on a nuclear bomb that will soon go off in the U.S. It is more likely that they are living like moles, reluctant to venture outside and risk being vaporized by a drone attack. If they no longer pose a direct strategic threat to the U.S., why is the Department of Defense adding thousands of new troops into the mix and billions more in funding ? Forget the money for a minute- most importantly, why is our most priceless asset (our troops lives) being spent on this hell hole ?

My guess is that it comes down to money. Billions of dollars for procurement of new weapons, logistical support contracts, beans, bullets and everything else that a modern army consumes. Congressional districts that rely on defense plant spending, corrupt leaders more worried about their own political skins versus those of the troops in the field. Al Qaeda and the Taliban, no larger than a German infantry division in World War 2 (at best) are on the receiving end of the full economic and military might of the U.S. I'm sure that some accounting geek at the Pentagon has examined the grim calculus of death and figured out that every dead Taliban was killed at the cost of about $ 1.5 million to the U.S. taxpayer. An elephant stepping on a gnat isn't even an appropriate analogy to the imbalance between the amount of military and economic horsepower being thrown at the situation.

So, why did he die ? I still don't know, maybe somebody out there can help me figure it out.

Daily Dharma

I was reading Fronsdal's translation of The Dhammapada today while riding the train to work this morning. One particular verse reminded me of a conversation I had with my dad shortly before he died-

Gray hair does not
make one an elder.
Someone ripe only in years
is called "an old fool."
It's through truth,
Dharma, harmlessness, restraint, and self-control
That the wise one, purged of impurities,
Is called "an elder."

We were talking about politics and his point was the difference between wisdom and intelligence. Plenty of politicians have a great deal of intelligence, if Ivy League backgrounds are the measure, but the fact that they earned such academic distinction in no way guaranteed a commensurate level of wisdom. As we have seen in many cases, this is a recipe for disaster.

Happy Mothers Day

Happy Mothers Day. If you're a mom or grandma, I hope you received the love and recognition due to you for having the toughest job in the world.

Pittsburgh Named Most Livable City

My hometown has once again been named America's most livable city. After reading the article I have my doubts that the authors actually visited Pittsburgh and suspect that it might have actually been written by our convention and tourism authority.

Before you pack up your belongings, kids and pets to move to my beloved hometown, let me fill you in on a few things the article doesn't mention. After reading my take on this hell hole, you may just want to stay safely within the confines of Cleveland, Kabul or wherever you call home.

1) The weather sucks. No, I mean it really sucks. We get more annual rainfall than Seattle and when it isn't raining, it is cloudy. Sunny days are so few and far between that we actually have a local phenomenon known as "sun glare" that can slow down rush hour. Imagine waking up and hearing the traffic report that states you are going to be late to work because it is sunny outside- no, you can't imagine it because you live in a normal part of the world that gets more than 35 minutes of sunlight per year.

2) The average citizen is 87 years old. We have the oldest population in the United States. Go ahead and look it up if you don't believe me. The reason our vaunted crime rate is so low is that geriatrics are unlikely to commit robberies and murder (except when Matlock was cancelled.) Forget about doing anything quickly. True frustration is standing behind one of our grey panthers at the grocery store as they explain to the clerk they want their ham "shaved, not chopped or sliced, I want it shaved 1/8 of an inch thick, you cut it too thick last time, more like half an inch and Irving didn't like it but we are on a fixed income so we had to eat it...." Oh for fucks sake lady, just grab your god damned ham and get out of the way.

3) Our infrastructure is horrible. Many people around the world are unaware that Pittsburgh was carpet bombed during the 2nd world war by both Germany and Japan. Their bombers left massive craters on strategic structures like our 3,224 bridges and overpasses. I tried to make my case at the Hague that Germany owed me for a broken tie-rod and shock absorber and am still eagerly awaiting the outcome. As the old saying goes, the shortest distance between two points in Pittsburgh is under construction.

4) We have some of the highest taxes in the country. Part of the benefit of living in America's most livable city is also that you get to live in America's least livable state. When you become a citizen of our Commonwealth ("common" being a tip off that the state is going to share all of your income with your fellow citizens) you get to establish a direct deposit account so that everything you make can be quickly and easily deducted to pay for school taxes, local property taxes, local wage taxes, state income taxes, state sales tax, fuel taxes, county taxes and whatever else they have thought up since I started writing this. Very quickly, you come to understand that this equals 115 % percent of your income so you need to take a second job, which only puts you in the hole deeper.

5) Nobody actually lives here. You know why our real estate is so affordable ? Because half of the homes are on the market. Anyone with any sense in their head is packing up and running for the exits. The city is broke, the county is broke and the state is broke. Last one out of town, turn off the lights. What is the best graduation present for a new college grad ? A plane ticket (or a bus ticket, whatever works for you.) As soon as my kids leave the house at 18 for college, prison or wherever they are headed, we're off to New Mexico, which by that time could actually be part of Mexico.

Still want to move here ? Don't say you weren't warned.

More on the Orwellian PA Tax Commercial...

Although the mainstream media (not surprisingly) remains mute about the Pennsylvania Department of Revenue commercial I mentioned earlier, the blogosphere is heating up with articles about it. I like this one. The author makes the claim, as others have, that the people that produced the commercial used an actual map to show where the alleged tax dodging malcontent "Tom" lives. Needless to say, the actual residents of the house aren't too happy and I hope they sue both the producers of the commercial and the state itself. Another interesting assertion from the article is that the state spent $ 3,000,000 of our dollars to pay for this little slice of arrogance and intimidation.

The author notes how tone deaf the government of Pennsylvania must be as to the sensitivity of people to government intrusion and surveillance. The really don't get it.

Obey the State - We know where you live.

The morally, and financially, bankrupt government of the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania has produced and aired the above commercial in an effort to collect tax revenues. I saw this creepy commercial yesterday while watching a local network in Pittsburgh and nearly fell out of my seat. The ad shows a satellite reticle zeroing in on a Pennsylvania citizen's home who owes the state money with the slightly veiled threat that the state "knows who you are." The robotic female voice says "nice house, nice car" but "what's not so nice is you owe $ 4,212 in back taxes."

Oh you arrogant fascist bastards.

I find it incredibly offensive and hypocritical that a state government that wastes tens, if not hundreds, of millions of dollars of our hard earned wages would spend the money to produce this garbage. Who authorized this commercial ? Who produced it ? Is this how the government of the state views its citizens, as serfs that can be intimidated and shoved around ? Here's a better question- why is the state so deeply in debt ? Why is the capital of the state (Harrisburg) on the verge of bankruptcy ? Who are the idiots (of both parties) that have spent this state into financial disaster ?

I'm so pissed off right now that I could spit nails. This is a prime example of the arrogance of power and its abuse by the bureaucratic goons that run this state. The media and government whine about the rise in anti-government sentiment in this country and then they produce crap like this ? What do the expect ?

You shove people, they will shove back.

The commercial I would have written would have gone like this. I would have filmed it with Ed Rendell dressed in a clown suit and holding a balloon-

"Hi, I'm Ed Rendell, governor of the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania. We realize that most of you are working really hard, and sometimes multiple jobs, to make ends meet and might have come up short on the confiscatory taxes that we take from you. If you could please send us a little bit of cash so I can plug this pesky billion dollar hole in our state budget and keep lots of my political friends employed, I would greatly appreciate it. Hugs and Kisses, The Gov."

I wouldn't have even charged them to produce it. As soon as I'm done here, it's off to the phone to start calling some of the political hacks that represent my district.

Of Mice and Women

My wife is one of the most stable people I know- practical, incredibly intelligent, not prone to getting freaking out in a crisis, in short, everything that is a good counter-balance to me. So, it was with some concern that I walked in the door a few days back and was met with a stammering mess. "What's wrong ?" I rushed in the door as I saw the look on her face. My mind raced- fire, somebody in the family is sick, somebody died, nuclear attack warning on the television ?

"Mouse !" she cried, "the cat was playing with a mouse."

For some reason, my otherwise stable wife has a deep primordial fear of rodents. Nothing can set her off like the appearance of one of these otherwise harmless little creatures. We're not talking nasty NYC city 20 pound sewer rats- we're talking about the cute little field mouse variety.

My wife pointed into the living room where our youngest, and biggest, cat Whiskers was patrolling the room. Whiskers is a big Maine coon that we picked up in Maine a few years back. Although he leads most of his life in a sedentary haze, when mice make their appearance he suddenly decides it's time to earn his keep. "Where is he ?" I asked the cat, apparently forgetting he's not a dog or any other creature that would care what his owner had to say when I spotted a lump of fur on the carpet. I bent down and picked up a piece of mouse about the size of a large marble- it looked like hamburger with some tufts of hair and a small bone protruding from the side.

"Here's a piece of it, Whiskies must have winged him" I said helpfully to my wife. She looked ashen. "It must have crawled away, oh my God it's injured and it's going to crawl off to do or maybe into our bed...." I stopped her short. "Don't worry, it couldn't have gone far and I'll find it." Whiskers was licking his massive paws, looking completely unconcerned that a wounded, bleeding mouse missing a large proportion of its rib cage was at this moment crawling around the house.

For the next 45 minutes I checked every room in the house, used a flashlight to check every nook and cranny where it could have crawled off to. I told my wife I couldn't find it, she said keep trying, so I kept looking. Finally, I told her it probably crawled off to die outside using the same path it used to get inside. That seemed to mollify her and she went back into the basement.

A few seconds later after offering my hypothesis, it became obvious why the cat was unconcerned about the location of the mouse since he know all along where it was. I noticed Whiskers making all the motions of a cat about to hurl a hairball and then out it came- the mouse. It actually hit the floor as a mass of blood and fur with it's four little paws splayed out to the side and the tail sticking to the rear, appearing like a high diver that jumped into a pool with no water.

"Found it !" I gleefully yelled to the wife.

The cat, none the worse for wear, immediately started rubbing my leg. It was dinner time after all.

Prohibition & the poisoning of American citizens.

For all of you that feel my misgivings about the government are paranoid and unfounded, here's an eye-opening article from the Pittsburgh Post Gazette that relates how the U.S. government was responsible for the deaths of over 10,000 citizens during Prohibition.

From the article-

"Doctors were accustomed to alcohol poisoning by then, a routine of life in the Prohibition era. The bootlegged whiskies and so-called gins often made people sick. The liquor produced in hidden stills frequently came tainted with metals and other impurities. But this outbreak was bizarrely different. The deaths, as investigators would shortly realize, came courtesy of the U.S. government."

But that was then, this is now you argue. Well, the size, scope and power of the current federal government dwarfs its former self in the 1920's. It has permeated the daily lives of all of us in a myriad of ways, it watches us, it tracks us and it confiscates the fruits of our labors at the barrel of a gun. Every aspect of our daily lives is regulated by faceless bureaucrats in Washington D.C.- what we buy, the cars we drive, the jobs we toil at to pay our masters- at what point do we collectively stand up and shout "enough ?"

The government will continue to kill in the same oblique manner as it did in the 1920's though it will now do it through the massive bureaucracy of the new health care programs, the push for smaller less crash resistant vehicles and a variety of other new regulations headed for all of us. Always remember that Hitler, Stalin, Mao, Pol Pot and every other power mad nut case in history could only achieve their evil goals with the assistance of large, well run, fed and funded bureaucracies- just like the one we have now. All it needs is the right psychotic to throw the switch.

NHL Playoffs

A guy walks into a bar and asks the bartender for an Ovechkin.

"What's an Ovechkin ?" asks the puzzled bartender.

"Oh that's simple" says the guy, "it's a white Russian without the cup."

Can Buddha Help your Short Game ?

A good article from the Wall Street Journal regarding professional golfers looking at Buddhism to help them with their game.

When the zoo drops you, you know you're in trouble.

In a further sign of his sagging popularity, the Pittsburgh Zoo has replaced a graphic of Ben Roethlisberger with one of Penguin great Mario Lemieux. Also, the Pittsburgh Post Gazette reports that he will be undergoing a battery of tests to try and figure out what is going on inside his head-

'The goal is to determine the extent to which Mr. Roethlisberger's violation of the league's Personal Conduct Policy during a night of bar-hopping in Milledgeville, Ga., was attributable to some underlying psychological, behavioral or neuropsychological disorder, and to map out a plan for intervention, psychologists say."

I'm glad the experts are on it- I just thought he was a self-absorbed asshole with a massive sense of entitlement.

Zen & the Art of Youth Ice Hockey Tryouts

Spring is a season of rebirth, the beauty of plants and trees sprouting buds and leaves, woodland creatures and birds looking for mates, longer days, soft rains and sunshine- in short, I hate it. Spring for me means an event is going to occur that will trigger 96 hours of anxiety, madness, hope, elation and dreaded disappointment. It’s time once again for my son to tryout for his hockey team.

My kid is 10 and is by all accounts a very good player. He’s big and strong for his age, a good skater and has been complimented many times by his coaches for his work ethic and ability to follow instructions. He’s playing on a select team right now, sort of like an area all star team, and scored a game winning goal in Toronto a few weeks back. So, based on his ability and past performance, he should easily make his regular amateur team, right ? We will know tonight at 5 pm if he made the top team or if he has to try out again next week for the 2,3 or 4 team for his age group.

Going into tryout season, I told myself that this year was going to be different. I didn’t care what team he made, it’s all irrelevant and the main thing is that he is getting lots of exercise and having fun. “Impermanence” I kept repeating to myself over and over. I was calm, relaxed, my mind open and free…right up to the point where we were in the locker room getting ready.

“Keep your feet moving” I implored to my son, “stick on the ice, keep your head up” I mumbled, “look at the size of these kids, take it to them” I whispered so that none of the nearby parents could here. “Remember body position, use your size around the net” I continued “you’re faster than anyone in this room.” My kid looked at me thoughtfully for a moment and then said “Dad, why are you so nervous ? I’m not nervous.” With that, he went back to playing his handheld Nintendo, half his gear on, half of it strewn about with the confidence of a 10 year old version of Clint Eastwood.

“Because !” I wanted to yell, “this is serious business, this is a huge commitment in terms of time and money for this family, you need to take this seriously, the people picking the team are not your regular coaches, they don’t know you, jeez it smells in here, don’t you remember when I was your age and I got cut from a team and…..” With that, I caught myself surrounded by a thick wave of guilt. “Just do your best” I muttered and walked out of the room.

I walked up into the stands and sat down with the dozens of other neurotic hockey parents. There are 15 roster spots on the team and 34 kids are trying out. 19 kids are going to be disappointed, 19 sets of parents will be screaming and bitching that the process wasn’t fair, their kid is awesome, how could you do this to us. I could be one of the 19. You could read the body language of the parents in the stands as their kids were on the ice- twitches, winces, clapping, head in hands, smiles. Sort of like an immediate feedback loop tied to their kid's performance. I was trying to stay under control, barely, and limit my outward anxiety to a furiously bouncing knee and nervous facial tics.

Hockey parents are a different breed. I sneer at soccer practice when I hear a parent complaining about the $ 30 registration fee (wouldn’t even buy one glove) and the fact that they have to practice on Saturdays at 9 AM (try 6 AM when it’s snowing.) The season starts in August, and doesn’t really wind up until June. 3 or 4 practices a week, games, tournaments, another night, another rink- the entire family is soon walking zombies who’s lives are slaves to the hockey schedule on the fridge. Hundreds of dollars here, thousands of dollars there…pretty soon it adds up to real money. I've paid hockey bills before the car payment, before the mortgage payment, sold stuff to pay for fees in the bad times. Any rational person would look at this from the outside and label it madness. They're probably right.

I tried to think about why I was acting this way. I think it has to do with wanting the best for our kids, not accepting that they are anything less than handsome, brilliant and incredibly athletic. We try to shelter them from disappointment, hurt and judgment and keep them close to us for as long as possible (sort of like The Buddha's father, but I digress.) It seems incredibly unfair that some stranger can judge them, rate them, categorize them and place them on a team just on the basis of watching them play for a couple of hours. But then again, isn’t that how life works ? Life can be brutal at times, incredibly joyous at others- up, down, sideways and always impermanent.

My kid came off the ice and I met him in the hallway to the locker room. He was drenched with sweat, a huge smile on his face and his big blue eyes flashing. “How do you think I did ?” he asked. “It doesn’t matter buddy, I said. You did your best and I’m very proud of you no matter what.”

I think I need to write that down for next year.

Nature's Fury

Stunning photographs of the volcano in Iceland. The shots of the volcanic generated lightning are eerily beautiful.

Big Ben & The Court of Public Opinion

Although Pittsburgh Steelers quarterback Ben Roethlisberger was recently cleared of sexual assault charges by the District Attorney in Ocmulgee County, Georgia, he may be facing a much tougher group of prosecutors as time goes on- the court of public opinion among Steelers fans. Slowly, but surely, I am beginning to see a chorus of voices in blogs, articles and article comments in the Pittsburgh area that are debating what the ultimate outcome of his actions should be- keep him, trade him or even cut him.

Two of the largest pro-Ben groups in the past few years have been women and children. Women wearing # 7 jerseys at Steelers games were a very common sight as they showed their support for this young handsome mega-star with millions in the bank and athletic talent to burn. I'm not a psychologist, but I think there was a good deal of post-adolescent high-school quarterback type crushes going on in the 'Burgh. Naturally, these women that had children passed this adulation on to their kids and little # 7 jerseys began springing up all over the place (my house included.) Big, strong, clean-cut and seemingly pious (if praying and gesturing to the heavens during games was any indication) who wouldn't want their little rugheads to look up to Big Ben ?

Well, hell hath no fury like a bunch of pissed off women. Big Ben's first mistake, a motorcycle crash without a helmet or motorcycle license, was passed off as unfortunate but nothing more than a youthful screw up. Strike two, sexual assault allegations in a civil suit, unnerved many of his followers but it could be dismissed, they asserted, due to the financial angle of the plaintiff and the "he said, she said" aspects of the case. Unfortunately for her, the plaintiff did not cut a very sympathetic figure. Strike three, however, was a too much for even the hardiest yinzer to bear- the creepy predatory nature of the charges, the sense of entitlement, the role of the bodyguards (one an off duty state trooper,) and the pattern of events that, unfortunately, seemed to have been practiced before. Moms who once sported pink Big Ben jerseys on their young daughters were now forced to think about their own kids being caught in the same situation.

Already, groups have begun campaigns to mail his jerseys back to the Steelers, and in some cases, fans are actually burning and disposing of them. Even Steelers fans, it seems, can only tolerate so much loutish, frat boy behavior.

Anarchist Pig Investment Advice for April 20th

As I mentioned in my last Anarchist Pig update, I liked the prospects for Citigroup (NYSE: C) and was in position for a good jump after earnings were released on April 19th. Citigroup was, of course, battered by the financial meltdown and could rightfully blamed for precipitating the crisis itself. Still, I'm not here to point fingers, I'm here to make money.

My strategy was to go long on Citigroup shares so I opened the position about a month ago by purchasing 500 shares at $ 4.14 per share. At the time, Citi's book value of around $ 5.00 made this a compelling value play and I also felt that the bank's new management was making good strides to streamline their business groups and return to profitability. A few weeks after taking the long position, I further reinforced my optimism by buying 10 call contracts on the strike price of $ 4.00 expiring in September 2010, and 5 call contracts on the strike price of $ 5.00 expiring January 2012. Currently, these positions have yielded the following returns-

500 Shares Long + 17 %
Sept. 2010 call options + 62 %
Jan. 2012 call options + 22 %

Overall, this was a pretty risky bet on Citigroup. Not only was I long on shares, I also took option positions that could have been rendered virtually worthless. The call options clearly show how when you are firm in your decision they can accelerate returns above and beyond the underlying share value.

At this point, I will probably take profits on the September 2010 options position and move that money into the January 2012 options position. I am making this move because I remain very bullish on Citigroup and will also retain the 500 shares that I am long on. My personal opinion is that if you can get in at anything less than $ 5.50, you should enjoy solid returns provided you can endure the inevitable dips and panics that come with owning a battered company this one.

Next week, I will review how I sold covered call options on my position in American Rail Car Industries (ARII.) When my position in ARII reached a profit of nearly 100 %, I sold a covered call option contract because I felt it couldn't go any higher- problem is, the damned stock price has done just that !

Anarchist Pig Investment Advice is just that- advice. I am not an investment advisor, broker or investment professional and if you use this advice, you are using it at your own risk. If you take my advice, you need to do the research to see if it supports your investment goals. In other words, if it doesn't work out, don't fucking call me.

If only air to air combat was really this cute...

Here's an interesting Chinese video from YouTube. I'm not sure what the underlying message is, but it is fun to watch. It follows the story of a Chinese J-10 fighter and its quest to hook up with an aerial tanker only to be thwarted by the evil imperialistic Americans or something like that- I especially liked the Pulp Fiction inspired soundtrack with Kool & The Gangs "Jungle Boogie" playing as the American B-52 and F-22 escorts rudely cut in line to fuel up.

"Fat drunk and stupid is no way to go through life son"

As I mentioned in an earlier post, 21 year old Matthew Clemmens (pictured above) allegedly vomitted on an 11 year old girl at a recent Philadelphia Phillies baseball game. (Editors Note- Yes, I know it seems redundant to mention that it was a baseball game but this blog now has international readers. Anyways, on with the story.) Inevitably, numerous follow-up articles are now coming forward including a defense of Matthew from his uncle. I can certainly understand family loyalty, but the defense offered by John Gonzalez of the Philadelphia Inquirer is a little harder to, errr, choke down. Mr. Gonzalez points out the massive media conspiracy that has labeled Philadelphia fans as boorish animals more interested in drinking and fighting than actually watching the game-

As we all know, Philadelphia has a reputation for harboring and enabling lawless savages masquerading as fans. The Clemmens arrest only added to that stereotype and allowed lazy, brainless outsiders to lump us all together thanks to the sins of a single cretin.

As the old saying goes, within every stereotype lies a grain of truth.

Mr. Gonzalez's defense of the Phillies and their fans sounds a bit like the excuses offered in 2009 after a fan was beaten to death following a game in Philadelphia-

"The vast majority of fans act well at games, act well outside of games. And are cordial with opposing fans, but it's a select group of knuckleheads that take it a little too far and then give the whole city of Philadelphia a bad name."

At what point do the excuses stop ?

I'm sure that life has become a living hell for Matthew Clemmens and I hope that this incident causes him to take a hard look at himself. That being said, if it wasn't Matthew becoming the poster child for barbaric behavior in the stands, it would be some other lost soul at some point doing something equally stupid. Although personal behavior and accountability are the issue here, we can't discount the Animal House atmosphere at many professional sports venues these days. The free for all, alcohol fueled atmosphere fosters and nurtures this type of behavior.

I don't know if some sociologist will ever do a study, but I just can't remember going to baseball games in my youth and seeing people tailgating in the parking lots. Sure, some people may have had a grill going and were enjoying a few pre-game brews, but nothing like the binge drinking frat boy free for all that you need to navigate on the way into the stadium. I'll say again that this problem is not just present in Philadelphia- it has spread to many other towns and sports.

Then again, is it really a big societal problem or am I just getting old ? Perhaps a bit of both.

Among the Barbarians

Setting a new low for classless Philadelphia sports fan behavior (an incredible feat needless to say) 21 year old Matthew Clemmens allegedly (intentionally) vomited on an 11 year old girl at a recent Phillies game. Although the report does not say the reason for the spew attack, it can be inferred that the young girl committed the horrible crime of actually wearing another team's jersey to the game. The girl's father mentioned that they were sworn at before the incident and had beer thrown on them causing the young kid to cry- something that all parents reading this blog can understand would be a really painful thing to see. Fortunately for the offender, the girl's father (a tough looking police captain) didn't beat the living hell out of him although his mug shot does show him sporting a nice shiner.

Well, you say, that wouldn't happen in a great city with a great sports tradition such as....Pittsburgh ! Oh nay, nay. It does happen and I've seen it happen. I've seen it happen to such an extent at Steelers games that after many years of buying 3 or 4 games a year off of a friend, I am sitting this season out. I'm sick and tired of trying to go to a game and having to endure thousands of blind drunk "fans" hurling obscenities at the opposing team and fans, their own team and each other. I'm revolted by the parking lot tailgating scene that is starting to look like something out of "Mad Max" with rampant binge drinking, vomiting and fighting. I made the mistake of taking my 9 year old to the Steelers-Oakland game last season and instead of enjoying an afternoon out, was forced to explain why otherwise responsible people feel the need to get drunk out of their minds in order to watch a game.

Now look, I'm by no means a priss. I like to drink beer when I'm at sporting events (before, during and after) and enjoy hanging out with my buddies as we enjoy the ups and downs of our local teams. Having a mild buzz and sitting in the stadium or arena can be an enjoyable experience. What I don't get, however, is how people can pay a great deal of money to buy their tickets so they can get blasted in the parking lot and pass out in their seats. A more logical plan would seem to be save the money, get blasted at home and pass out on your couch but, hey, who am I to judge ?

The other problem at sporting events, particularly Steelers games, is the underlying nasty vibe that you get (even if you are wearing Steelers gear.) The crowd seems very edgy, very drunk and in need of just one little spark to completely lose it. On many occasions I've bumped into a member of the Steelers nation, said "sorry" or "excuse me" and been met with the classic "fuck you" hissed through beer sodden lips. I've seen fist fights break out over people having their feet stepped on, cutting the line at the bathroom (because they badly need to get rid of that 6 gallons they drank in the parking lot) and reacting to insults real and perceived. Something about putting on a Steelers jersey and drinking heavily before noon can turn a nerdy bank vice president into a raving lunatic ready to fight anyone, and everyone, that gets in his way.

So, I'm sitting this one out. I'm tired of worrying about getting punched, kicked or shoved while trying to actually watch the game. In fact, I'm so tired of Steelers nation that I'm not even going to watch them on television. Screw 'em, the team and their fans have become a damned disgrace. No more hero worship for women beaters and sexual predators. You want me back in your stadium ? Clean up your act. You can start by cutting a few big names on your team. Next, reign in the zoo in the parking lot and quit quietly looking the other way at underage binge drinking, public exposure and drunk driving. Pull season ticket holder's tickets if anyone using theirs gets out of line and make them pay a fine of $5,000 to get them back with money going to charity. Do these things and I might just come back. Maybe.