Win One for The Six

Look, maybe my opinion is clouded by having spent a whole lot of time in Toronto these past three years - on two different projects. It is more clouded since I have been there off and on the past five months. But hot damn do I want to the Raptors to win the NBA Finals, because Toronto deserves it.

I was there when they crowded the streets to watch their Maple Leafs lose a second straight 7-game series to Boston. I have been there as their Raptors won a dramatic Game 7 against the 76ers with the most dramatic, most memorable, most picturesque of shots of all time.

I was there in a local Vaughan (northern suburb of Toronto) bar (Moose & Firkin) when they narrowly lost Game 1 to the Bucks, hearing the raucous noise in a quiet suburban outpost. I was there in spirit when Jurassic Park went crazy when they finished off the Bucks. I will be there next week (sadly, the week the games are in the Bay). I want to be there when that great city gets its just rewards.

I think people have Toronto all wrong. It is seen as an underdog, a challenger. No. This is one of the biggest cities in the World. If you go population within city limits, it is #4 in North America (behind just Mexico City, New York City and Los Angeles). If you go by within its Metro Area, it is #7 (those three, plus Chicago, Houston and Dallas). It is one of the world's leading financial and business capitals. It is a massive, massive city, home to mega corporations - two of whom jointly own the Raptors.

It is also a beautiful, multi-cultural, fun as hell city. I've spent a few weekends in Toronto during my various projects (and once, coincidentally, a few months before my first project there began) and loved it every time. Toronto is one of North America's great cities, and it deserves a title again.

It's been 26 years since Toronto won a title, with the Blue Jays winning their second of two straight World Series. The Blue Jays them immediately started to become annoyingly average, rarely bottoming out, but always winning between 75-85 games, swallowed up by the Yankees and Red Sox dominance.

The Maple Leafs have laughably gone 60+ years without a Stanley Cup, a failure that is all to well worn around the city of Toronto like an anchor dragging them down. Unlike Boston did with the Red Sox, they don't wear this infamous streak with pride. Hockey is Toronto. Toronto is Hockey - housing the Hall of Fame. But for too long Lord Stanley's Cup has escaped them.

The pressure then falls to the Raptors, a team that has grown so instrumental in the sports fabric of the city. It all started with the 'We The North' chant, a lasting gift of Game of Thrones. Maybe we should laugh that the team's name and nickname are both lifted from pop culture, but dammit does it work.

The Raptors are a great team. In any non-Warriors world, they are clearly good enough to win a title. They may end up doing so anyway, as the loss of Durant will be felt more here than in the prior round (of course, KD may come back). And hopefully even if they don't, they've done enough on this run to convince Kawhi to stay.

It bothered me so much when people just assumed Kawhi would ahte Toronto. Is it cold? Sure. But aside from that and the taxes (which wouldn't be so much better if he moves to the Lakers or Clippers), there is nothing to hate about Toronto. From what I've read, many NBA players love the road trip there.

The idea that Kawhi would hate Toronto because it's not a 'fun' place always grated on me (though this is not purely a Toronto idea - I hate the fact all warm weather people seem to think it is impossible to enjoy a cold-weather city). The idea that Kawhi couldn't make endorsement money or be as large a star was even dumber. Again, this is one of the 10-largest markets in North America by any definition, and with the Raptors being, to some degree, 'Canada's Team', the actual potential endorsements are ahead of maybe any US market.

Toronto deserved better, and they deserve this run to teh Finals. And hopefully, for their sake, they put up a great fight if not win the damn thing. Not because of how great it would be for little Canada to get a title, but because this megapolis deserves to be seen as one; as one of North America's best

The Nostalgia Diaries, Pt. 17: The 2008 Wimbledon Final

I'm not really going to talk about the match here too much. There's no point. Enough has been written. By me. By great sportswriters. By whole damn books and documentaries and the like. Really, there's no point in rehashing the match - back at a time when Roger Federer had 12 majors, Rafael Nadal had five, and Novak Djokovic had one (count since - including this match - is Federer = 8, Nadal = 12, Djokovic = 14). The match was amazing, sure, but I want to talk about how I watched the game. It was at my house, with my late Aunt visiting. I remember her (and her two sons, who both live in the US) watching the match with us, through the rain delays, through the madness. And I remember that this was one of my last memories of her, as she would die about two months later.

I've suffered more loss in my life than I should. Now, I've suffered less than most as well. My parents are both alive and well. My sister is alive and well. So my immediate family is fine.

But when you get past them, it gets a bit more grim. Both my grandfathers died before I was born, one way before (1973), and the other five years before (1986). I met my grandmothers many times, and still have memories of both of them, but my paternal grandmother died in 2002, two days before her 80th birthday, and my maternal grandmother, probably the grandparent I remembered the most, the one we called 'mummy', died in 2007, the year of her 75th birthday.

I had an uncle (my Mom's older brother) die in 1989 (before I was born). I had my dad's brother-in-law (my Autn's husband) die in 1996. I had my dad's brother die in 1999. So I've had to live with my fair share of loss - even if it wasn't my parents or my siblings, it was my parents' parents and my parent's siblings.

Putting aside my Aunt who this story is about, other than mummy (and my Aunt - Uncle's wife - who passed in 2014, after the time period of this story), none of these people I remember. But luckily then, I don't remember the loss either. I don't really remember losing my Uncle Bobby or my Uncle Silvie, and obviously have no memories of my two patriarchs, including the man whose name i still carry - Menezes.

But my Aunt Lolita I do remember. I remember the last time I met her in 2008, the last memory being Nadal's Wimbledon win. Because I remember that, I remember the previous times, be it 2003, or 2001, or in the 90's when we used her flat in Mumbai as a base. It's sad really that I love the fact I at least remember her death, because then I do remember her life with it.

I never knew Auntie Lolita was a sports fan, and I in truth have no idea if she was, but she was a tennis fan, and if memory serves, she rooted for Nadal that day. Of course, so did I, and watching Rafael Nadal conquer Wimbledon, conquer Federer, was such a thrilling experience. Even if Novak Djokovic ends up with 24 majors and is the best male player ever, in any tennis fan's heart (or tennis historian's heart), the 2008 Wimbledon Final will remain the pinnacle of the sport.

The only sporting event I can reasonably compare it to in terms of storylinges and drama was the 2006 AFC Championship Game with Manning's Colts finally beating Brady's Patriots (screw me that a good dozen years later, Brady is still winning Super Bowls!). The ridiculous storylines were similar, with the young buck finally beating the old champion (forget for a moment that Brady is younger than Manning in this analogy). It was a perfect confluence of story and drama in a pre-social media world.

2008 was a seminal year in my life in many ways, the year I finished Junior year with aplomb, and started senior year with drastic senioritis that may not have escaped me through to today. It was the year I was left alone for a summer and grew to love driving. It was the year I rented way too much for Blockbuster (talk about the past!). It was the year I grew to love the NFL more than ever, the year I grew to love soccer more than ever through Euro 2008, and the year that Nadal beat Federer., Not lost in all that wass it being the year that my Aunt came to visit.

She had come before, even recently enough that I remembered previous visits. But from the day she arrived, we all had an inkling it would sadly be her last. She was sick, that all we knew. She was so sick it was a mystery how she made it to the US in the first place. My dad tells a story that despite being warned of her condition, he was so taken aback when she arrived to our house, he immediately called his brother and they cried together. I can't imagine the feeling, the shock, the sadness.

But if anything defined my Aunt's life, it was trying to always see the bright side and experience the best in life. Despite being so ill, she came with us to Manhattan and brought my Dad out to the dance floor in a NYC lounge where an Eagles cover band was playing. The Eagles is the band that defines my family for some reason, and it is not lost on me the beauty of that show being one of her last nights with us.

Even the day of the final itself, she wanted to stay watching the match instaed of turning off the TV in the numerous rain delays. She always wanted to experience the great things in life, and in the Summer of 2008, Nadal v. Federe was about as great as it comes.

I don't know if it is a good thing that sports is the reason I have connections to so many events, that I can instantly go back in time to a memory. Be it the last memories of my Aunt, or my last MUN trip the next March, or the joy of driving when Kansas beat Memphis, or late nights in Bangalore huddled up against a TV.

This whole series, sixteen parts and two years in, has been a series in catharsis, but this is the first time I've connected sports to one of the darkest, saddest events in my life. Sadly, I can do that some more, be it my other Aunt's month's mind (one-month death anniversary) happening the same day here local Patriots beat the Seahawks to win Super Bowl XLIX, or a few others, but this one would always stand out. I don't know if I knew at the time that her days were numbered, but all I knew is I enjoyed watching my Aunt Lolita enjoying watching my favorite tennis player win Wimbledon.

The Nostalgia Diaries, Pt. 16: 2009 NFC Championship Game

Years later, after we realized what happened that day, and it became a central focus of one of the darkest (or strangest) scandals in NFL history. I still remember the day I heard of Bountygate. And that day, my mind immediately raced back to the Superdome, January, 2009, Saints vs. Vikings. Never was a stadium louder, never was a game more oppressive. In retrospect, never was a bounty scheme so obvious. But at the time, who knew about the bounties. All we saw was a mad rush defense trying to break the most unbreakable QB of his time, in front of a truly raucous crowd, playing out an epic.

Like many Greek epics, there was tragedy and comedy, and it mostly came down to a series of mistakes the Vikings made to take a game they thoroughly dominated on the statsheet (they outgained the Saints 475-257 - despite them never touching the ball in OT) into a tight game and ultimately a loss. The Vikings know heartbreak, be it the throttling the Giants or Eagles gave them in modern-day title games, or the Blair Walsh FG miss, but the only thing that compares would probably be the Gary Anderson FG miss. The Vikings spent so many years building a perfectly balanced team, and saw it all fall apart.

Some games have an outward energy that defines itself from the beginning. This was one of them, starting with it being so damn loud it was hard to hear Brad Childress during his pre-game interview. I still remember him saying that 'we're pretty good too', and why not? They went 12-4, outscored opponents by 180 points. Favre was the third best QB in the NFL (behind Manning and Brees), with Peterson, Sidney Rice (when he was good), Bernard Berrian (ditto), Percy Harvin (even more ditto), a great Visanthe Shiancoe, and great OL with future hall of famer Steve Hutchinson, two potential HOFers on the DL (Jared Allen, Kevin Williams), three good LBers and great players in teh secondary. That was one of the most talented rosters constructed.

So were the Saints, staring with Brees and his crew of Colston, Moore, Henderson, Meachem and Shockey, with Pierre Thomas and Reggie Bush. The defense was still Will Smith and co, but Gregg Williams had them blitzing and burning in his usual mad scientist way. That was such a damn good matchup. The Colts may have ultimately been the favorite in the Super Bowl (smh), but these were the best two teams in teh NFL. And the wrong one won.

The first half was fairly even. The first three drives were all TDs, with two by the Vikings, both an imposing display of power. The whole game was for the Vikings. Their team was defined by their size and power, and on offense they bullied the Saints, and on defense they swallowed the Saints normally great OL and got Brees off hsi spot to the tune of a 17-31 day. The only way the Saints could get in? Well, the bounties had something to do with it.

I remember watching that game in my living room with my parents. I didn't meet friends that day because I nervously watched Peyton lead a comeback against Rex Ryan's Jets a few hours before. Nightfall descended. Martin Lurther King Day was the following day. It was us sitting in an increasingly pitch-black room with the superpower of the Superdome lightening the room.

That whole season for the Saints was a revelation. It will probably never get 'beetter' than the 2006 season, the first one back after Katrina. But they were better in 2009, starting 13-0, with so many memorable games in that dome. The first one probably was their dismantling of a 5-0 Giants team 48-27. But nothing was better than their 38-17 humiliation of the Patriots.

I could probably do my own piece on that game, maybe the worst game the Patriots have played in the Belichick era on National TV, letting Brees go nuclear against them. Belichick pulled his guys late. It was beautiful, it was special, it was 'the Saints in the Superdome'. The only team that seemed unnerved by that? The Vikings.

The Vikings took that game in a dominant manner I've never seen. Their second half is on one hand hte most dominant half I've seen a team play, and the most heartbreakingly stupid. Four turnovers, all big. One was on their own 15-yard line, setting up an easy Saints TD to take a 28-21 lead. One of the Saints 10-yard line, taking away at least a field goal (probably more, this was not a game for field goals until the final one). Two Favre interceptions, the first probably should have been negated by one of the many uncalled bounty-infused hits, and the second being that interception. In between that, the Vikings scored two TDs. Each play seemed angry, seemed annoyed that they had to drive and drive and drive. But they did.

The Saints unleashed hell with the pass rush because they couldn't match the Viikings physicality. It was so weird seeing the Saints so neutered in that game, so amazingly less physical. But on the whole, this game was about the bounties and the experience of that dome. The experience of that game was the hits, time and time again Favre pulling himself out of the turf. One time it took it so long that you could hear a Saints player later saying 'Favre is done, pay me!'.

Weirdly, the only person who thought something was off was my Mom, who becomes something of a football fan every playoffs (especially if the Giants are involved). Maybe after the first hit, she exclaimed 'they're being too rough with Favre.' That refrain was repeated time and time again... and she was right. But in the moment, taht added to the intensity of one of the most intense, emotional games I've ever seen.

It ended with a Field Goal - the last OT playoff game when a field goal on the first drive could win the game. But even that drive had drama - a 4th down where Pierre Thomas seemed to fumble on a HB_dive/jump; an easy dropped interception, a laughably bad DPI call on 3rd down. Even on that drive, the Vikings dominated; the Saints persisted.

The Saints persisted for years, through palying in San Antonio, to building something special in 2006, to two less-than seasons, and finally to their success. It was hard to feel too sorry given how great that strory was, but at the end, it was fun just to see another insane, epic, NFL playoff game. The amazing part is no one saw it more clearly than my Mom.

Celebrating Count the Dings

In some ways, little had changed. It was a lot of familiar faces - beyond just those we all came to see on stage. It was a lot of new faces too, expanding the universe of people that have shared this particular fascination in person after months/years/eons of doing so over audio.

But in the ten weeks since the last Count the Dings Live Show, so much had changed as well. Nothing more than the state of the podcast itself, this being the first show since they moved the basketball-focused half of their operation to The Athletic. But that half was not present. This was not about that. This was celebrating the half left separately, the half that we're all invested in, from a literal sense (Patreon and the like) to a communal one. This was a celebration of the past twenty months since they left ESPN's protective umbrella, and waded out into the ever expanding Podcast world alone. There is no better indication of how well that worked than hundreds of people coming to watch that independence in full display.

Count the Dings is a community. In some ways, I've always known this, but while I got my first upfront view at their Boston live show, it was reinforced over and over again this past weekend in Chicago. From the meet-ups, to a booze cruise featuring us huddling under the duress of a 48-degree rainy night, to bar trips thereafter, to the show, and finally the aftershow late into the Chicago night. In name only was this a Live Show - it was a weekend-long Live Experience.

It was better the second time for myriad reasons. It was better because I was able to meet people I knew. The faces that slowly etch further in the mind, moving rapidly from online acquaintances shrouded behind a online name, to in person friends, joyously sharing in this shared love for something uniquely special. Selfishly, it was better because I was slightly known as well - it truly is great to catch up with people who share a deep interest, randomly in random cities at random times.

It was better because no matter how well the show has done and will continue to do under the Athletic umbrella, the focus of the weekend was on the still independent, more loose, hilarious and personal half - a true celebration of everything that makes this community great. Count the Dings is still alive, producing so much non-basketball content, with an ever-expanding set of podcasts that are all still as funny and inventive as they've ever been.

It was better, let's be honest, because May in Chicago (despite having to evade, at various points, hail, rain and lightning) is a better time of year and city to celebrate than March in Boston. It was better because the stories shared were potentially better, the secrets and laughs more enjoyable, more personal.

It was better because it felt more like a joyous coronation of this particular community - the show ending with an impromptu rap session with Black Tray and Mariano (every bit as cool in person as expected) holding the mic. The show ended with great stories (Amin's tale of the Chicago police inside a city Marriott a particular late highlight), and as it ended it exploded with an energy that wouldn't dampen for three or four more hours.

In front of the stage with a DJ still belting out bangers and MC Tray and Mari going at it, was Zach Harper with his parents, and an ebullient Jade Hoye hugging a series of fans. It says a lot about Jade that in these interactions, it is clear he loves each fan as much as they love him.

The show was more meaningful this time because I was also a bit more at ease - having run through this once before, having met most of these folks. Even if they don't remember me by name, they're open enough, cool enough, and interested in their fans enough for that to be a circumstance of time spent with them, not because they are closed off. There are no barriers with the Count The Dings crew. Hell, half the 'crew' at this point are fans that have become more and more ingrained and assisting in the rise of the show.

It is astonishing to see where this show, this community, has come - even from a fairly outside-in perspective. To think so much of its roots (both the people on the show, and the fans) still trace themselves back to ESPN. If not for how original, how different, how unvarnished it was under the most corporate of hosts, it probably doesn't survive on its own. That's a credit to Jade Hoye, the master, and so many others. From the long timers still plugging away like Amin Elhassan, 'Big Wos' Wosney Lambrey, Zach Harper, Tom Haberstroh, Ethan Sherwood Strauss, Mariano Bivins, to those like Kevin Pelton (who is game to show up and hang in both Boston and here), Brian Windhorst, Tim Bontempts, Tim McMahon who are still left behind at ESPN but played such pivotal roles into building it in the first places.

But to some degree, us listeners, who went from loudly cheering on an ESPN production, to moving through name changes and Patreon pledges, deserve some credit too because we want to support this little engine that could so damn much. I've been on the receiving end of countless hours of podcasts and dings, I'm still way in debt even after experiencing the fun first-hand twice.

The pace and frequency of these shows will potentially slow down - in part due to their relationship with The Athletic, in part because it's damn tough to put these together. That added to the riotous energy of the weekend - a last chance to enjoy and immerse in Count the Dings for a while. It was a true celebration of what was built, how great it still is more than six years in, how wide it has grown, how deep our love for this band of crazies (both the hosts and the fans) is and will always be.

It is hard to pick out my favorite moments of the weekend. So many blur together in a whirlwind, as so often happens when you experience wall to wall great times. But in the end, while the show itself is great, and gives us all a purpose for descending on that town for that weekend, it is the smaller moments that will stand out.

Maybe it was asking Amin a few questions about Ramadan. Or it was meeting Mariano for the first time and sharing my favorite past Monta Monday. Then again, It was every time I met a familiar face who prior to Boston I knew nothing about except we all like this podcast. It was about getting a few kudos for rocking my Blackhawks Hossa jersey, doing so because I know I can't stack up to the rest of the crew or fans on basketball gear. It was trading favorite craft stouts with Kevin Pelton. It was meeting Tray's cousin, or talking TV momentarily with Mayes. It was chatting with Eden, Nitz, Jane and the rest of the awesome women in the CTD crew. It was telling Tom, again, how much I loved Pack the Knives. But it all comes back to Jade.

One memory stands out. My first run-in with Jade was on the booze cruise, both fighting off shivers on the roof as we tried to pretend to not be cold (Northeast people hate admitting they're cold). After a quick hug and 'how are you', Jade asked me "what are you going to write this time?" Well, Jade, this is what I've written this time. Hope it is half as good for you as the show and weekend and the Count The Dings community and podcast is for me.

Game of Thrones Losing Itself, Pt. 2

A great HBO landmark ended. It ended after a rough couple last seasons when the original creative influence left after five seasons. That show, however, redeemed itself with a great finale, one that was everything great about the original show, if a little broader than it was at its peak.

I'm talking about Veep - a pantheon level comedy - every bit Game of Throne's equal. That show ended last night, something that should have gotten a huge HBO marketing push, and fanfare that the show so readily deserved. Instead, it got swallowed up by Game of Thrones, which is becoming increasingly unlikely to pull of the good finish that Veep did.

At this point, I think I've largely come to terms with Game of Thrones' disappointing end. Not that it will make me feel better, but I largely believe the events we saw play out in yesterday's episode, with Dany taking King's Landing but veering into 'Mad Queen' territory is largely what would ahve happened in the books. The problem is George would tell that story across thousands of pages. Benioff & Weiss decided to tell it in less episodes.

I will never forgive them, really, for shortening the show. I won't forget HBO for allowing it (they were reportedly pushing for 10 seasons of 10 episodes, and then at least 10 episodes through). I will, most of all, never forgive Benioff & Weiss for getting their wish and reducing the episodes, and then clearly not giving a shit, introducing so many plot contrivances, deus ex machina's, and scenes that so nakedly sacrificed character for spectacle.

Even if the final outcome is the same, there was no nuance in what they put on TV, there was no story. Sure, at a high level you can buy Dany going mad after losing advisor after advisor, friend after friend and dragon after dragon, but not so quick, and not sacrificing all character for nothing. Seeing her fry Cersei and the red keep? That would be somewaht 'mad' but also great. Seeing her mercilessly torch the city? That was too much.

What I hate the most is the most effort Benioff & Weiss put into to telling us about Dany's mental failings was people like Tyrion and Varys predicting it, though at that point she really hadn't done anything all together that bad for this world. Certainly nothing even approaching Cersei blowing up the Sept and killing so many major figures in effort to win the throne - an effort that worked of course.

In the end, Game of Thrones was a spectacular, groundbreaking show for six seasons. The sixth season finale, with that same sept blowing up, Dany finally crossing the narrow sea with three dragons, unsullied, dothraki and the armies of Dorne and Highgarden, and Jon being named King of the North. That was how the show should have ended.

Instead we got a rushed, two season character piece that took all the worst aspects of a Breaking Bad and shoved it stupidly down or throat. And for that, it is truly unforgiveable.

Oh Barca

We thought it couldn't get worse than losing 7-0 on aggregate to Bayern Munich, but that time Lionel Messi was injured throughout. We thought it couldn't get worse than losing 3-0 to Juventus and drawing blankly into the Camp Nou night in 2017, the same year Real Madrid took their domestic supremacy away.

We definitely thought the worst it would ever get is in 2018, when Roma of all teams, nowhere near the Seria A title race, won 3-0, winning the tie 4-4 on away goals, beating them on an unholy night in Rome, the third straight year Barcelona would fail to make the Semifinals.

No, no, and no. There is a new worst, and it may never get worst-er. Barcelona just lost 4-0 to Liverpool, missing two of their four best players (and two of their primary offensive forces), losing the tie 3-4. Yes, this is about Liverpool's incredible resolve, the continuation of Jurgen Klopp's mastery of this particular tournament (at least as much someone who has never won it). But it is very much about Barcelona's continuation to suffer incredible defeats in this most incredible tournament in increasingly incredible ways.

Some of this is also the realization that it is damn hard to win this trophy. The same luck that takes to win it, makes sure you don't win it - making Real Madrid's incredible three-peat more and more sensational of a result. Barcelona has won this tournament as recently as 2015. They've also suffered some of the greatest defeats in the years surrounding that win - none more so when they set foot in Liverpool, in a stadium right up their with the Camp Nou and the Bernabeu and the San Siro of having so many ridiculous Champions League moments.

Anfield rocked like I hadn't heard it in eons (or maybe last year when they thrashed Manchester City by the same score...). That stadium regained its place as a true cathedral of the sport, getting there by jutting away the sports most domineering power.

What Barcelona has not been able to do away from its cavernous Camp Nou in recent years is staggering. Their knockout results in away legs are a series of pathetic performances lopped on top of one another, this going right up there with the 3-0 humiliation in Rome, or the 4-0 loss in Paris (which, yes, they turned around) or the flaccid 3-0 in Turin, or on and on and on. The team goes to shit, Messi goes quiet - his road goalscoring record shockingly meager in knockout legs.

It's also the realization that after years of Spanish Reign (the run of five straight CL titles will come to an end), the best league in the world is once again the Premier League, which should could give us an all-English final for the first time in eleven years. Liverpool is a better team than Barcelona. No, the version without Salah or Firminho is not - which contributes to the ridiculousness of the result - but the healthy team - the one that lost the first leg 3-0, is better. Their season in England is insane - and it says more about the depth of the league than anything else that Man City may still win.

A few years back, when Klopp took over Liverpool, joining Guardiola at Man City, and Mourinho and Man U (oops), and Pochettino at Tottenham, and Conte at Chelsea (oops again), the EPL was given its greates set of quality managers since the 'Big-4' era of Sir Alex, Wenger, Mou and Rafa. This was supposed to user in a new era of Enlgish domestic dominance, and despite the inconsistencies of Man U and Chelsea, it more or less has.

In the end, we can leave making all the same jokes at Barcelona, but watching them throw away a chance at another UCL title was almost depressingly evil. In the past when they let UCL's slip away, they at least controlled possession and could trick many watchers into calling them 'unlucky' and what-not. It seemed like a true revelation when they lost - such as when Mourinho sprinted across the field when Inter beat them in 2010, or the still ridiculousness of Chelsea's miracle 2-2 draw in 2012. But slowly it morphed into teams just beating them, and while last year was a true shock (and again given the people NOT playing in Liverpool this year), this can join the Juventus loss in 2017, and the pair of losses to Atletico Madrid in 2014 and 2016 in times when Barcelona just looked second best.

Ernesto Valverde's Barcelona can play comfortably now without the ball, but seeing them barely get 50% of the possession in the first leg was jarring, even when they escaped with a 3-0 win. This is a different Barcelona, but if anything, they have the same poor (for them) results in the Champions League.

When Real Madrid won its third straight last year, despite having a dreadful (for them) domestic campaign, we hailed them as kind of lucky, and certainly they were. They escaped Juventus in the Quarterfinals 4-3 with a penalty in the 90th minute of the second leg. They escaped Bayern, again 4-3, with Muller barely missing a goal at the death that would ahve given Bayern the tie. They got two howlers in the final. But do you know what that Madrid team did? They won three road legs in the knockout stage, the first team to do that. They won 3-1 in Paris. They won 3-0 in Turin. They won 2-1 in Munich. They were the first team ever to win three straight road legs - something even the prime Guardiola era Barcelona teams did not manage.

The year before, they won two of the road legs, before losing their road leg to Atletico 2-1, after winning the first leg 3-0 in the Bernabeu. The best aspect of Zidane's run was their ability to never have a truly bad game, to never get blasted, and to play well away from Madrid. The most important aspect of any Champions League run is to get decent results away - something Barcelona has become uniquely incapable of doing.

I may be being unfair to Barcelona, who still have won three Champions Leagues in the Messi Era (can we stop giving him credit for 2006 when he barely played, btw?). But only one since 2012, with the losses in that period being of such harrowing variety. What's startling is in their now seven losses since 2012, they've lost their seven road legs by a combined 0-17; that is not a typo. Their play in the Camp Nou is as peerless as any result ever, but it is shocking how terrible they have been away from their home. To win Europe, you have to conquer foreign stadiums, and it warms my heart how terrible they've been at doing that, year after increasingly incredible year.

Game of Thrones Losing Itself

Can't believe I'm writing about it again, but that is how bad I felt that last episode of Game of Thrones (S08E04) was. More than just the episode itself, it comes on the heels of a strange 'Battle of Winterfell', coming itself on the heels of an iffy last couple seasons. It all comes down, for me, to two central issues with the show:

1.) The creators (and potentially actors and the rest) are just tired of doing this show, so they shortened the last two seasons to seven and then six episodes, which created incredible plot straing

2.) The creators never signed up to create plot and have to finish this story; they had full belief they would be adapting George RR Martin's source material throughout

I'm actually quite sympathetic to the second point - I truly believe David Benioff and DB Weiss (D&D) expected the books to be done, and be adapting source material. They did not sign up to complete Martin's story, and whether or not they are using Martin's bullet points, they clearly don't ahve the rich material that Martin presented them with initially.

The first point however? That one is all on the shows creators and production, and it truly is maddening. The last cultural touchstone show that I remember was Breaking Bad. While I have my own issues with the plot contrivances of the final season of Breaking Bad, you can tell the care and effort that went into that final season. That was a great end to a great show. This? This is the opposite, a HIMYM level fall from grace.

My issues with the final season come down to both the ridiculous pacing (which was an issue last season as well), and now the bizarre plot devices and conveniences that are littered in every episode. Such as all of these:

- Euron Greyjoy can kill one of Dany's dragons by hitting it with three perfectly accurate shots from miles away, but then somehow they all miss Drogon who was closer?

- Dany doesn't see the Iron Fleet despite being way up in the air.

- The Iron Fleet knows Dany will be coming (though this could be explained by Dany having a traitor I guess

- Cersei does not try to kill Tyrion or Dany despite having every ability to

- Jaime just gives up on Brienne, who him having sex with anyway seemed like pure fan service

- The whole world gangs up against Dany despite little proof she's actually 'mad' the way her father was (more on this later)

I could go on and on and on. Beyond just last episodes, there are larger questions, like why we ever needed a White Walker plot, or what the hell Bran is actually doing the whole time, or was Sansa is so unnaturally untrusting of Dany. There's kjust so much going wrong, and it all really boils down to them fast-forwarding the end-game at the very time they had to take over the pen.

There are still things Game of Thrones does better than any other show - namely creating spectacle, but in spectacle has never really been the key strength of the show. When I think back to the earlier heights, I don't think of Hardhome or Battle of the Bastards; I think of the Red Wedding, or Tyrion's trail, or any of Tywin's small council sessions. That's what made this show so special and great at its peak.

THe last two seasons saw the show become a normal TV show - one becoming increasingly about touchstone plot moments that are driven out of desire to put on spectacle rather than the national progression of a rational plot. We all wanted Jaime and Brienne to bang, so they did. We all wanted a dragon v. dragon fight, so we got one (somehow those damn arrows could take down a dragon, but not another dragon). We all want the Clegane-bowl, so we will get one. Earlier seasons, we didn't know what we wanted, but we got great moment after great moment.

The only other issue I put squarely on the creators is the pace, and this almost two-season sprint to the end. They clearly had the ending written a long time ago, and needed so many ridiculous plot contrivances to get there - namely how to quickly make Dany vs. Cersei even. Think back to the end of Season 6, the last great season the show had, and you had Cersei becoming queen but hated by killing thousands by blowing up King's Landing. At the same time, Dany was finally crossing the Narrow Sea with the following: the dothraki, the unsullied, the combined armies of Dorne and Highgarden, and three fucking dragons.

Two seasons later, shes down to one dragon and a few unsullied and dothraki. This whole ridiculous set of eleven episodes was done just to make Dany weak. The whole northern quest, the whole series of Tyrion becoming increasingly stupid. All of it. The show sacrificed itself by making arguably the strongest written character (arguable) in Dany into a badly written one overnight, just to service plot.

Maybe this is how George RR Martin wanted it anyway. Maybe this is mostly his script, just done at rapid pace - but that pace issue is also a problem. The show chewed enough plot development in the last twenty minutes of last night's episode to take about three or four episodes a few seasons ago. Everything is happening way too fast, way too quick, and way too foreign for this show.

Game of Thrones established itself as one of the shows of all time because of how incredible it was at its peak, telling a sprawling story mixing the fantasy of Lord of the Rings with teh political drama of The Wire. It will end its run doing neither of these things, which is a shame.

I mentioned How I Met Your Mother earlier as a show that just ruined its legacy by missing its ending so badly. Game of Thrones is probably too good and too popular to have that type of fate, but there is one interesting similarity in my mind. How I Met Your Mother came very close to ending after its second season, with at-the-time middling ratings (in reality, the ratings it got then would be seen as a miracle by its end). The second season ended with Robin and Ted breaking up, and Barney mid-sentence. From a plot persepctive, that would have been a disappointing ending, but it would have left behind two seasons of an all-time great sitcom (truly, those first two seasons were awesome).

For Game of Thrones, it was never in any fear of cancellation, obviously, but in my mind, if I ever choose to rewatch it, I'm stopping after Season 6. That was basically the last point the show was at all influenced by the source material. That ended with a truly great final episode, with Cersei blowing up the sept, 'winning' the throne, and Dany finally crossing the sea. Up North, Jon was named King of the North, with Sansa by her side, and Arya was finding her way back to Westeros. That was a perfect point to end the show, and truly, I wish that is when it did end.