Secrets are no fun

Sarah Stillman's exploration of the dangers of using young offenders as confidential informants is far more detailed than any Buzzfeed or Press Republican story. 

Writing for The New Yorker allows Stillman to delve into various incidents to bring forth the issue at hand. Stories written for Buzzfeed or local newspapers are intended to get to the point about one single incident and nothing more. If a Plattsburgh teenager met the same fate as Rachel Hoffman, the main victim in Stillman’s article, or LeBron Gaither, an article in the Press Republican would quickly detail who, what, where, when, how and why with a few police and family quotes thrown in. The story shows one case. There is no comparison to other victims; newspaper stories aren’t designed that way. 

Magazine writing allows writers to effectively demonstrate a problem. Stillman does it by weaving the story of Hoffman with accounts of other confidential informant stings gone wrong. With each case, Stillman further establishes the theme.

Stillman’s use of “I” is rare and advances the story. “I” is not allowed in newspaper writing. Writers cannot put themselves in the story. However, magazines allow this personal touch if the narrative warrants it.

“I heard some version of Taylor’s statement dozens of times in the course of more than seventy interviews with people whose lives have been shaped by America’s growing reliance on young drug informants—narcotics officers, prosecutors, defense attorneys, and the friends and families of murdered C.I.s, as well as some former informants.”

To me, “I” provides credibility here. Stillman lists the varying people she has interviewed for the story. As a reader, it’s obvious Stillman has gone beyond basic reporting for a rich and emotional story.

Throughout the article, a large, single bold-faced letter crops up at the beginning of a paragraph. It visually signals a change is coming. In some instances, Stillman switches to a new victim and case. In others, Stillman remains with the previous victim but takes a different direction in the case. The contrast stands out and is easily understood.

During my initial read, I got confused. While the weaving in of other victims helps establish the theme, it also throws me off when Stillman revisits various cases. I found myself wondering, “Wait, who is that again?” But the confusion also hammered in the message: the use of confidential informants is so risky and unregulated that I can’t keep track of all the examples given.

The kicker kicked me right in the feelings. Slow clap for Stillman because that was heavy. You read about the different incidents and return to the main one with an emotional narrative of the father. The kicker would not work without the emotional detail, which wouldn’t have come out had Stillman not put in the time.

Stop hating my boys

The most irritating responses to declaring myself a Cowboys fan include "Why?" and "I hate the Cowboys." Those hating on my boys are either fans of a rival team or despise them for being America's team. That's just how I perceive it. Or maybe the feelings are a result of the Cowboys being the most valuable NFL team, with an approximate value of $3.2 billion to the NFL average of $1.43 billion, while also missing the playoffs seven of the last ten seasons. I can understand it's frustrating for a struggling team to be so popular, but what is a team without loyal fans and sponsors?

The Dallas Cowboys have cultivated a powerful and obviously valuable brand. AT&T Stadium features a retractable roof and former Guinness record-holding video board, which measures 180 feet wide by 50 feet high. Everything is indeed bigger in Texas. Expected to open in 2016 is The Star, a 91-acre development that will include training facilities, office space, a hotel and retail development. Without the value of the Cowboys brand, a record-breaking stadium and construction of new headquarters wouldn't exist. The Cowboys name evokes pride and unity, leading to funds for new, shiny things.

Tony Romo, you silly little quarterback. Romo developed a bad reputation for choking in the fourth quarter by throwing interceptions that hand the game over to the other team. However, the guy actually has a higher passer rating than any other NFL quarterback in the fourth quarter since 2006. Romo's first two NFL passes came against the Texans on October 15, 2006. First, he completed a 33-yard pass to Sam Hurd. His next throw was a two-yard touchdown pass to Terrell Owens. Not bad for signing as an undrafted rookie free agent in 2003.

While I think it's unfair Romo is haunted by a bad rep, it has proven to be a blessing in disguise. When Romo is clutch in the fourth quarter, most of the football world is in awe. Those not respecting his game irritate me; you have to give credit where it's due. I don't care if you like him, but you can't deny the talent. What's more, I still hear ignorant people referring to him as Tony "Homo." Real mature. I should move on before I get lost in a rant. Tony Romo is magnificent in the fourth quarter, leading more than 20 game-winning drives. The stats speak for themselves. MOVING ON.

Dan Bailey for president! Or at least team MVP. When the Cowboys struggle, Mr. President swoops in to save the day with a superhuman field goal from 50 plus yards. Bailey boasts a career field goal percentage of 90. His season-long field goal increases each year, from 51 yards in 2011 to 56 yards this season. Bailey's kickoff averages just under 64 yards, with nearly half of his 311 kickoffs being touchbacks. Unlike Romo, Bailey is well-known for being dominant in his position. Bailey's kicking statistics tell a story nearly all football fans know. What interests me are his defensive stats. In 60 games played through four seasons, Dan Bailey made seven tackles, with two coming this season. I'm sure each were ugly as kickers aren't trained to bring down opponents returning the kick, but he did it nonetheless. Sadly, I couldn't find video evidence of his most recent tackle. Maybe I didn't try hard enough. Maybe it's buried deep in the plethora of "Dan Bailey kicks the football" videos. Regardless, it's time Dan Bailey be treated like Matt Prater was last season. It's certainly possible for Bailey to kick a 60-yard field goal, like Mr. Prater. Though in Bailey's case, it'll come with far more pressure behind it. Prater had a stellar Broncos team in front of him. It seems the Cowboys are finally finding some chemistry and rhythm. Previously, Bailey was by far the best player on the team most days. I wonder if his back ever hurt from carrying the team. He's probably heard that one before, though.

You shouldn't hate the Cowboys just because they're worth a crap load of money. The team is valuable because of fan loyalty. Every elite team will hit a low point. Dallas has and continues to persevere through it. Besides, we experience the lows so that we may appreciate the highs. And my dear boys seem to be on the verge of an upswing.

Hockey bloopers?

I stumbled upon what might be the most delightful segment of the NHL's website, which also backs up my opinion that hockey players are more fun. The "Lighter Side!" highlights the silliest moments of the season thus far. If silliness makes you giggle like me, you'll love the handful I've selected. Cue the foolishness!

Nail Yakupov's stick vs. Ryan Ellis's skate

First up is the classic hockey gaffe. A player never intends for it to happen, but the pesky hole between the boot and blade of a hockey skate attracts sticks like you wouldn't believe. The victims of this particular incident are Nail Yakupov of the Edmonton Oilers, inventor of the celly "Yakupoving", and the skate of Nashville Predators defenseman Ryan Ellis. The evil skate hole has claimed other victims, yet none can match the hilarity of Yakupov and Ellis.

Either Yakupov didn't know his stick was caught up, or he thought it could easily be dislodged. It's all the same to me. Usually the player with a stick in his skate gets tripped up. What causes me to laugh out loud is the fact that Yakupov yanks on his stick, which pulls Ellis's feet out from under him. Ellis doesn't just trip; he falls flat on his back and butt, and therein lies the humor.

Jonas Hiller skates in open ice...and loses

Leaving the safety of the blue crease to play the puck is routine for goaltenders. The opposing team dumps the puck down the ice whilst killing a penalty, so the goalie skates out to settle it and reset the team for another attack. This time, however, Hiller found himself doing a split as the pesky black biscuit slipped past him.

Luckily for Hiller, TJ Brodie hustled to pick up the puck before any damage could be inflicted. Usually when a player falls for seemingly no reason, jokes are made about not seeing the blue, red or goal line. Hiller seemed to find a secret pit located between the goal line and right circle (or left circle; it depends where you're standing). The camera found Hiller in good spirits after as he laughed it off. So silly.

If you want a trade, just ask.

Zack Kassian, a forward on the Vancouver Canucks, attempted to avoid a too many men call by jumping the boards. In theory, it's a great play; however, Kassian's execution needs work. Maybe he should get his eyes checked. Or maybe he needs to be reminded repeatedly which team he's on and what color the jerseys are for that game before the puck drops.

Hey, buddy...YOU PLAY FOR VANCOUVER. I personally enjoy the moment when he's about to swing the other leg over the boards but hesitates because staring back are four Blues players and a coach. One can only imagine what was going through his head. It's like walking into the wrong classroom. It takes a moment to understand what you've done, but once you do, you immediately regret the decision. Innocent mistake or not, it's just awkward. Unless you weren't the one leaping into the wrong bench. In that case, it's quite funny. I hope the general manager doesn't take that as a hint to trade you, Kassian.

To wrap up the foolishness, I've selected a recent favorite photo shared by my idol, John Buccigross. Captioned "Am I doing this hockey right?" and "I'm really loving this tape job" back on November 14, it still makes me laugh. Buccigross posted it again November 26 with the caption "Hi. Remember me? It's still stuck." My first question upon first view was where is the video for this?! I feel the video of this awkward and rare incident should headline the Lighter Side! Maybe one day I'll find it. And when I do, somebody better be there to catch me when I fall over laughing. Stay silly, my friends.

Filthy dangles

While the NHL is teeming with flashy players, none do it better than the rookies. Whether it's the novelty of being a fresh face or possessing more developed skills, freshmen in the NHL know how to charm a crowd.

Sophomore forward Tomas Hertl missed most of his rookie season (Dec. 19- Apr. 11) due to a knee injury he suffered in December 2013 and still managed to finish with 37 goals. Hertl contributed nearly half the goals in his second career NHL game as the Sharks routed the Rangers 9-2 last October. He tied a franchise record for goals in a game and became the second youngest player to score four goals in a game, but that's not why fans left with mouths agape. Hertl demonstrated just how filthy his mitts are. Let's break down the barrage of offense courtesy of our Czech superhero.

SJS vs. NYR 10/08/2013

4-1 SJS - Hertl buries a shot from the top of the crease off a feed from Desjardins
6-1 SJS - Hertl goes five-hole on Biron after a breakaway pass from Thornton at the blue line.
7-2 SJS - Hertl completes the hatty on a power play goal from the slot, redirecting a Demers pass.
8-2 SJS - Hertl turns a cross-ice pass into a breakaway and scores top shelf with his stick between his legs.

Wait, what? Between the legs AND top shelf?! This kid is not from Earth. No words can do it justice, either. My eyes get bigger and my jaw drops lower with each viewing.

Goal number four is the cherry on top, icing on the cake, and having your cake and eating it, too. It's hard to avoid cliches when describing inhuman displays of athleticism. Had his fourth goal been his only goal, the hockey world would've reacted less. By itself, that move is enough to leave players and fans everywhere speechless. Precede the dangle with a hat trick, and you have an unforgettable performance.

Seth Griffith, a rookie on the Boston Bruins this season, scored his first NHL goal in a win against the Sharks on October 21. The forward from Ontario sees a decent amount of ice time, averaging 14 to 15 minutes per game. During a game in which he spent the least time on the ice, Griffith scored the game winner in style. Some might say it was luck, but I'm going with style. It's one of those goals that I picture the player smirking after as if to say "Deal with it." The kid is smooth.

After blocking a shot in his own end, Griffith picked up the puck and split the defenders. With quicker feet, he would've easily beat both guys. Unfortunately, Griffith got caught up with the weak side defenseman just inside the Devils blue line before coasting in a tangled mess towards the net where he made something out of nothing. Next to breakaway dangles, scoring backwards between the legs while a defenseman breathes down your neck is quite breathtaking.

The future of hockey is promising. Rookies continue to hypnotize crowds with their saucy mitts and habit of going top shelf where mama hides the cookies. (Thank you, John Buccigross, for the fun hockey lingo.) Crowd-pleasing goals like Hertl's and Griffith's build hockey's reputation as being fun to watch; it doesn't matter if you understand hockey because it's easy to recognize a sick goal.

I'm a slacker

My latest obsession involves balancing and slowly moving along a long strip of nylon webbing, somewhere around one to two inches wide, strung between two anchor points. The goal is simple: walk end to end. The execution of that goal can be frustrating, but it's insanely fun. With the right people, the frustration goes away. This is the wonderful sport of slackline. 

I started slacklining by accident. What started as an attempt to take photos for a class assignment turned into being coerced onto the beginner's line. My friend Kevin was nice enough to force me to try it. "You can't come to a Platty Slack meeting and not try it," he insisted. Given my awkward nature and tendency to embarrass easily, I was nervous learning something new in front of people I'd just met, but I didn't fight Kevin on his request. My curiosity and desire to learn beat out any part of me trying to avoid inevitable embarrassment. Plus, it looks so darn fun.

As per usual, my mind jumped to the worst case scenario: that everybody was watching and waiting to laugh at my feeble attempts to slackline. And, as usual, I was wrong. The members of Platty Slack welcomed me with open arms, words of encouragement and high-fives. So many high-fives. It's intoxicating to be in an environment with almost excessive positivity. Each time I failed, Kevin was there to tell me what I did right and what to do better next time. He's just happy to share his passion with others. 

Much like at a Ben & Jerry's, everyone oozes happiness at slackline. Even when I grew frustrated with the 1-inch flowline (see image to the left) I couldn't help but smile. That's the best part of slackline, the fun. Club president Steve Larson will congratulate you after finally walking the line, but as long as you're having a good time, he's pleased. Actually, any member of slackline does the same. Slackers have a passion for what they do, but more than that they love to share it. 



Slackline is severely underrated; even more underrated are those who practice it. I constantly state that the track team is where I belong. My teammates are on my level of weird, yet one or two people manage to rub me the wrong way. With Platty Slack, I've never felt more accepted by a group of people. It's hard to put into words why. This feeling inspires me to avoid those who bring me down. Why waste my time on individuals who are content with tearing me down? The past few months I've been consistently happy, and I attribute that to the people I surround myself with. I cut out the negativity and focused on who and what makes me happy. Platty Slack plays a key role in that and I couldn't be happier.

Hockey in the sun

I have been lucky enough to attend a handful of NHL games at three different rinks. Thanks to generous family members and vacations, I've witnessed three playoff games as the Coyotes of Arizona hosted the Detroit Red Wings, one regular season matchup of the Minnesota Wild at San Jose, and one game in the heart of hockey country as the Canadiens beat my beloved Pittsburgh Penguins. I discovered the best overall experience is found in the cities that don't bleed hockey. The tickets are cheaper, the outdoor climate is more pleasant, and the fans are more creative than rude.

The Bell Centre

Home of the first member of the Original Six, the Bell Centre opens its doors to hockey-crazed fans from late September for preseason action until Montreal's playoff run ends, usually early May. (Sorry, fans.) The  building shakes with the cheers and jeers of Canadiens fans. The nose bleed seats, from which you'll probably need binoculars to see, run from $27-$52. It's not a bad deal if you're into the atmosphere more than the game, or don't mind watching specks fight over an even smaller speck. For those fans who wish to see the action more clearly, it'll cost anywhere from $196 to $275. These prices, found on the Bell Centre website, reflect the real cost. Using a middle man like Stub Hub leads to tickets with inflated prices. Would you like to sit on the glass behind the net? You better be willing to drop $425 because prime seating in Montreal is hella expensive. 

Aside from the typically outrageous ticket prices, Canadiens games present an electrifying, yet often hostile, environment in which to play. Fans whoop and shout loud enough to be heard across the border. Ok, so that might be an exaggeration, but it isn't much of a stretch as Canadiens fans are known to be obnoxious. Living and breathing Montreal hockey can make people crazy; it's not unusual for fans to boo their own team for playing anything less than perfect. On the other hand, if the Habs are on top of their game, fans easily make the atmosphere hostile for the opposing team. Chants of "Fleur-y!" rained down that one time I stepped foot in Habs territory. You can even hear the taunts during live broadcasts. Attending a Montreal game is exhilarating, with the crazed fans screaming for sixty minutes straight and extraordinary pregame light show, but the outrageous ticket prices and hostility outweigh the pros. I'd rather spend my money on a plane ticket to the west coast.

Gila River Arena (formerly Jobing.com Arena)

One might wonder how hockey in the desert has lasted nearly twenty years. Wonder no
more! (Lame, sorry). If you live in a hot, dry climate, ice is somewhat of a novelty, and I believe that's reason number one why the Coyotes stuck around this long. Local Phoenicians must've been in awe. "Ooh, what is this sheet of white with colored lines? Oh! It's cold! And what is that black rubber disc? Fascinating!" Of course this is a massive dramatization. Residents of Glendale obviously don't live under rocks, and they probably know of hockey. Bringing hockey to Arizona has been vital to growing the sport in the States and desert. It starts with young kids watching and idolizing the professionals playing in their backyard, then those kids learn how to play. The whole process picks up speed when the original young players inspire the next group, and so on. Keeping the Coyotes in the desert led to this snowball effect. USA Hockey data lists Arizona as first in hockey growth among states with an NHL team and third among all states after last season. The desert loves hockey. 

Desert hockey fans aren't crazy from cold winters; most think 60 is freezing. The focus lies on the game and having a good time. Other than every seat being the best seat in the rink, the howl of the goal horn is the greatest aspect of Coyotes games. 

It kind of makes you want to chime in, doesn't it? Plus it gets the fans all hype for the game. 'Yotes fans howl with pride for their dudes and with anticipation for the action to come. Not to mention it's difficult to create a hostile environment for visiting players when the fans are just happy to escape the heat for a few hours. Imagine strolling around in the sun for a few hours, grabbing some food from Jimmy Buffet's Margaritaville, maybe do a little shopping, and then amble on over to the arena to cool off by watching grown men on 0.115 inch thick blades bat at a rubber biscuit for two hours. Did I mention it's on the rocks? Enjoy!

SAP Center at San Jose

Welcome to the jung – wait, that's not it. Oh, that's right. This is the SHARK TANK! Also, WELCOME! (Caps lock on for emphasis because it's fun and I support the men in teal.) Not only is this a sweet silhouette photo op, the players literally enter the ice from the mouth of a foggy, red-eyed shark. It does not get any cooler than that. And you can try to find something to beat it, but one of two things will happen: you'll either die from fatal levels of awesome, or, the more likely outcome, you won't find jack. Unless you were looking for Jack. You might find him. He sounds cool, but not as cool as skating out of a demonic shark head. When they dim those lights, you best get to your feet; the Sharks are about to surface and feast on the unfortunate opponent.

Chomp chomp go the Sharks. And so do the fans. No, seriously. 

When San Jose is awarded a power play, nearly every single fan in the arena extends both arms forward, one claw hand on top of the other, palms facing each other, and moves the top hand to create a shark mouth ready to nosh on the competition. The Shark Chomp, accompanied with Jaws music, kicks so much ass. The music itself is cool, but throw in an arena full of chomping fans and it's unreal. Quite possibly the best display of fandom is the chomp. (I'm pretty sure this footage is super old, but the modern chomp looks exactly like this, just in high-definition.) Fan bases have their own unique in-game rituals. Sharks fans just happen to practice the premier, supreme, unsurpassed, unparalleled, ultimate, incomparable tradition. Shoutout to the thesaurus for all those synonyms of "best". One awkward adjective wasn't enough to describe the Shark Chomp. 

Black and Gold 'till I'm dead and cold

Before I dive into my obsession over the new Penguins third jerseys, let me provide a small disclaimer. I support several NHL teams, including the Chicago Blackhawks, San Jose Sharks and New York Islanders. It's impossible for me to commit to one team like the "die hard" fans, who are obnoxious and often disrespectful to the sport and the players. And now I'm going off on a brief rant, so bear with me. All sports fans have the right to hate teams and players, but I'm bothered when they show blatant disrespect. If you hate a player, like Sidney Crosby, you should recognize his talent as well. Too often Crosby is referred to as a "pussy"(pardon my French) or other derogatory names. I would love to see fans jump into Crosby's skates and experience the game from his perspective. Fans, be obnoxious and crazy, just please show some respect for the elite hockey athletes who worked hard to get where they are today.

Now let's get back to our regularly scheduled blog post.

I'm currently pinching every penny I have so I can buy a gold Evgeni Malkin jersey.

Pittsburgh unveiled new third jerseys in September, which are a throwback their threads of the mid-1980's and early 1990's. The Penguins are my day one team, the first team I liked when I started to follow professional hockey, and these jerseys have rekindled my love. The yellow gold looks sharper than the bland, brown gold on the typical home and away jerseys.

The unveiling video is epic, though it could be better. I understand Crosby is the face of the Pittsburgh Penguins, but he lacks the intimidation factor. Quite frankly I'm more inclined to pinch his cheeks. Crosby will always be a cute little hockey player from Halifax, Nova Scotia, with naught a menacing bone in his body.

The Pittsburgh gold jerseys make their debut October 22 as the Penguins host their rivals from Philadelphia. The throwback sweaters will make an appearance 11 other times this season, but I say increase that number! Show off those gold threads. Make the hockey world remember a time when Pittsburgh dominated the ice, winning the 1991 and 1992 Stanley Cup. Make the sports world remember the "City of Champions" version of Pittsburgh, minus the Penguins, when the Steelers and Pirates won their respective championships. Pittsburgh gold pleases the eye more so than brown gold. Yuck.

One option the Penguins should consider is doing away with the brown gold jerseys and making gold the norm. Gold catches the eye; it's dazzling. Plus the blue jerseys make for great alternates when being so stylish grows old.

These beauties are a classic. Hockey jerseys remain the coolest of all sports uniforms, especially when there are laces at the neckline. It elicits memories of old-time hockey and playing on frozen ponds or lakes. Laces on jerseys create nostalgia. I think laces should be on every alternate jersey because it's a reminder of the sport's humble beginnings.

If the Penguins continue down the throwback path, it's not long before we'll return to the dark blue of the 1970's Penguins, before the struggling team switched to gold. And I cannot wait for that day.

How dope would Evgeni Malkin look in this bad boy? The answer is pretty dope. The logo hasn't changed much, but the colors sure have. Current away and home jerseys are nearly identical, save for coloring. I vote Pittsburgh throw it back even further to the dark blue in the very near future, like within the next five to seven years. Give me enough time to save money for yet another jersey for my collection, please. Several current NHL teams sport blue on their jerseys but nothing quite like what I'm now calling Pittsburgh blue.

Of course if the Pittsburgh blue is cursed, i.e. we revert to our losing ways of the '70s, maybe we should stick to variations of gold. I mean, we did win three Stanley Cups decked out in black and gold. It's probably best to save the blue for special occasions as alternate jerseys. Plus, blue doesn't fit well into the mantra "black and gold 'till I'm dead and cold."