Harpring and the Angry Inch

John Cameron Mitchell's "Hedwig and the Angry Inch" is the story about a gender-confused young woman who tours the country following her more famous associates around like a puppy while telling a story about her search for who she truly is. "Hedwig," you see, used to be a "Hansel." Unfortunately, in an effort to become fully female, Hansel underwent a botched sex-change operation that left her with a single inch of unusable flesh that constitutes "all she has to work with." This single inch that dooms Hedwig to being not quite male anymore but not female either constitutes the "angry inch" in her life that has driven the man she loves away and relegated her rock group (also titled "Hedwig and the Angry Inch") to playing in diners rather than packed arenas and relegating Hedwig to relative obscurity.

This immediately brings to mind the confused man in my life: Matt Harpring.

Throughout broadcasts of Utah Jazz games you will frequently hear announcers refer to Matt Harpring as being a "football player" who is merely playing the game of basketball. Stunningly this point gets brought up regardless of what network is airing the game leading me to believe that there is some sort of "Matt Harpring fun facts" folder that gets circulated amongst the television stations. Occasionally, networks will even run down a multi-generational list of Harpring's relatives who played football and close with the comment of "I can't believe this man ended up playing basketball in such a strong football family."

Believe me, we here at harpringsucks.com can't believe he's a basketball player either.

Interestingly, Harpring proudly invites this characterization as a football player masquerading as a basketball player. On Matt Harpring's officially website, the first fact he lists about himself on the "personal info" section after his full name is:

Comes from a long line of college football players: his grandfather Norb played for the Army (during WW II), his father Jack played at Michigan, his uncle Chip played at Notre Dame, while brothers John and Brian played at Akron and Northwestern, respectively Was a three-time selection to the GTE Academic All-District III team (1996-98)

The word basketball isn't mentioned until the 9th paragraph on the page.

Matt also provides pictures of himself playing quaterback in high school. I know what you're thinking, and I thought it too: "Quarterback! Doesn't that position involve passing?!" Don't worry, Matt assures us that his black hole tendencies were alive and well even during his formative football years. As Matt writes: "I liked to run as much as pass!"

While Matt clearly chose at some point to abandon his one true love in the form of football and pursue his basketball "talents," it's apparent from the way he plays that he's never truly become a basketball player. That angry inch still haunts him. Whenever there's a loose ball he seems to fall over suddenly as if he's expecting someone to tackle him. He runs directly at the hoop with his arm raised constantly calling for the ball like a hot-shot wide receiver going for the end zone; after all the only job of a wide receiver is to try and score and that's all Matt does. This also explains why Matt Harpring constantly slips screens: in football, setting a pick is illegal.

Matt truly must be as unhappy with this situation as we are. Just as Hedwig follows a former lover around the country playing her rock shows next to his, Matt plays basketball on the same court as his basketball playing teammates but is never really playing the same game as them. While they work as cogs in a larger machine trying to play defense and move the ball in complicated patterns towards the hoop, Harpring is stuck in his own mind as an offense only player operating as a wide receiver on a quest for the end zone. Even he has to know that something isn't right in the world and that somewhere along the way he lost himself to basketball.

Hedwig and the Angry Inch ends with a concert in which Hedwig violently rips her clothing and tears a glamorous wig from her head to reveal the base male that she truly is, exposing Hansel to a crowd of shocked onlookers. The movies final shot is of Hansel walking down an alleyway completely naked: having finally accepted himself for what he is and no longer needing to masquerade as someone else to hide the pain of his angry inch.

Matt, we here at harpringsucks feel your pain. Trust me, we've been feeling your pain for four seasons now. We know your true calling as a football player. You do too. The announcers tell everyone about it at least once a game. Feel free to shed your Hedwig and let the real Matt Harpring come out, the women love your chiseled football body and you should feel free to let us all see that angry angry inch for what it truly is.

LiveBlog 4: The Blog to End All Blogs

-Just so you know, 8 points is a big enough lead for it to be constantly referred to as a collapse by national media if the Jazz lose.

-Odd scene. Boozer clenching Gatorade cup in mouth, takes it out, scowls and talks to teammates, reinserts Gatorade cup. Might be the worst product placement I've ever seen.

-Yao is stealing Harpring's ability to end up on the floor on otherwise innocuous plays. I expect him to start waving his arm soon.

-Airballs by Fisher, Harpring, and Deron now. Seems like he's picking up from the veteran leadership.

-Sloan knows this can be it for the series. Responds with a fourth quarter lineup with both Harpring and Fisher.

He's really longing for the farm.

-Juwan Howard does not have a beard. He has a conveniently-located fungus.

-Fisher with a 3-on-2 fast break. Takes it himself.

It's like a broken record, and that broken record is Neil Diamond Sings Barbra Streissand.

-Speaking of which, still waiting for my copy of Scarlett Johannson Sings Tom Waits. I don't know if there has ever been a bigger can't-miss album.

-Rafer Alston off glass for a three, and we have a tied game. This feels like fate.

-Foul called on Williams, and for some reason, Fisher claps along with the Houston crowd. Someone needs to check and see where his paychecks originate.

-Boozer with the shot and the foul.

Moral of the story: people with acne can succeed, too.

-Harpring dives for the crossover, slow to recover, fouls T-Mac on a jump shot, score it.

*points at top of screen*

-AK FOR THREE?!

*stunned silence*

-I might have to end the blog right here.

-"Vitamin Water: It Worked for T-Mac and Agent Zero" might not be the best product tagline right now.

-Boozer lets loose his barbaric yawp.

-Backcourt violation. Camera cuts to Sloan. Blank Expression. Three seconds later, he stands and applauds. I think he's still three minutes behind in the game.

-My blog associates are all getting excited and whatnot. It's rather darling to see the cynicism melt away in a Game Seven.

Harpring sucks.

-Chuck Hayes gets away with a travel, hits the layup.

Jazz fans, you now have your excuse and your prepackaged NBA Conspiracy Theory.

-Harpring almost blocked Yao. I don't know what to say about that. Oh, and Memo is the man.

-‹Sirkickyass› Big free throws here.

Kicky has entered the Boone Zone.

-Sloan should put Fisher in for defense.

-And AK ices it. Fitting.

-Carlos Boozer the Closer of the Game. Which premieres the new season on June 18. Please watch The Closer.

People are dying.

See you for the Golden State games.

Blivelog 3: Enter the Dragon

-If this blog fails, it's all on me.

-Hm. Jazz game is on. IFC is showing Frida. Hard choice, I'm always a fan of movies about fine art. Same reason I watched Desperado.

-Boozer has his Playoff Eyebrows going. Either that or his NBA charity of choice was Habitat for Dislocated Katrina Caterpillars.

-Conversation with the TaterMom the other day:

T-Mom: "So, what's wrong with AK?"
T-Moog: "Well, I think it's Sloan being an idiot."
T-Mom: "I told you he was awful three years ago."
T-Moog: "..."
T-Mom: "Do you even watch the games?"

-I think the Goodyear Blimp commercial music is ripping off Jurassic Park's theme song. Which John Williams ripped off of John Williams.

-Tater' Plea for Comments Time: Predict Fisher's final line. Tater-Guess: 4-11, 4 TOs, 23 minutes of constipated look.

-I think Battier was doing the Running Man dance in front of Fisher when he had the ball.

-Boozer just stuffed Yao. Sky now red, up is down, cats and dogs living together.

-McGrady has one eye that sees into the future, one that sees into the past.

Cowboy Bebop reference trumps Pokemon reference. Take that, Kicky.

-Yao down, clutching right knee. That's the knee that contains his pride.

-Battier with some nice moves in the lane. Don't know if they were necessary, think he was just hot-dogging.

-AK probably needs to rethink the "catch-the-ball-in-midair-with-back-to-the-basket-and-shoot-over-head-on-way-down" shot. Sloan sends Harpring in to give him the message.

-TaterMom: "I can't even stand to look at Harpring."

It's officially genetic.

-Yao would be a pretty good player if he had functional fingers instead of two giant palms. And also if he didn't store supplies for the winter in his head.

-TaterMom: "I'm afraid Yao's going to die young."

She's full of joy and love.

-Harpring a little short on that shot. Milt Palacio nods in approval.

-Sorry for the delay, my computer just decided I wasn't being funny enough and locked me out. It let me on just in time for Fisher to airball a jumper. Apparently, that's funny enough in itself.

-Harpring with an incredible Crotch Catch. I think he's showing AK how it's done.

8-point lead for the Jazz heading into the fourth quarter. At the current rate, that would disappear in an additional three minutes of Fisher time.

Live Blog 2: Die Harder!!!

I'm confused by this rogaine foam commercial that featured a man flossing his teeth. Apparently he wants to grow hair in his mouth.

Clyde Drexler giving a seductive gaze onto the court while calling the game for the local Rockets station.

Elvin Hayes was just shown. I swear to god he could be related to Joe Dumars.

Hakeem Olajuwon is in the house, and wearing a garish yellow shirt. He really looks like a 7' tall banana.

Collins thought about taking a shot for at least 10 seconds from 19 feet out. Thought better of it.

Man-sap just fell over right on his stomach and groaned loudly. That could only have been funnier if he had gigantic red shoes and a nose that honks when pressed.

Juwan Howard seems to be stuck in perma "mouth open scowl" mode when he's playing. I think he's auditioning for a nasal strip sponsorship by breathing out of his mouth at all times to establish his "before treatment" credibility.

AK just posted someone up. They fell over when defending him. I can only imagine they slipped on some strategically placed tears.

McGrady cements his playoff reputation by missing a wide-open three. Regrets the "it's all on me" comments prior to the series beginning.

Time out is called. Harpring shoots anyway.

A moment of silence was given for Stockton's momentous shot. I feel like I've gone to my Happy Gilmore-esque Happy Place for a few moments.

Harpring's on the floor. Shooter McGavin is now kissing Grandma.

Jazz up 40-24. Dee Brown and Arujao are starting to get ready to play the 4th quarter.

Van Gundy attempts to stop Deron Williams by bringing in Rafer Alston. Apprently he had his memory of the first 6 games deleted Total Recall style.

McGrady limping around with an ankle "injury." Establishing alibi for post-game press conference.

TNT resorting to running "The Closer" promos in the bottom left corner during the game. My interest level is still somehow not increased.

I just want to take the time to point out I'm watching the game on pirated cable right now. Even if we lose, I think I can claim a moral victory.

Lady Kicky has pointed out I'm also posting using pirated internet. I don't even think I have to shower anymore to feel good about myself and my theft ethic.

The announcing team is pointing out the Jazz always take on "Sloan's personality." That explains the sudden proliferation of John Deere tractors in Istanbul and Moscow.

Harpring gives a vacant-eyed stare from the bench. I can't tell if he's sad at his own ineffectiveness or if he just has a stubborn gas bubble.

McGrady is in full pout mode. Kerr claims it's because his team is getting outhustled. He's apparently unaware that Harpring is on the bench right now.

The Rockets are hitting three pointers to get themselves back in the game. This is totally stunning. All this time I thought Sloan made it a priority to guard the perimeter.



Craig Sager vaguely reminds me of Harvard's debate coach. They both share Liberace's fashion sense and sport a creepy "pedo-smile."

Boozer is reportedly furious; making his face even redder than normal.

Alston came scary close on the last shot of the game.

Utah leading at the half for the 7th time in a row. We all know that's made a difference the last 3 games in Houston.

Sager refers to Boozer as having "unleashed a dunking explosion." Then talks about the powder blue uniforms. Somehow aggressive play and powder blue seem inconsistent. Not surprising Sags likes the color though.

Turning it over to Tater for the second half. Assuming of course he can pry himself away from Frida on the Independant Film Channel.

Live Blog Game 7 Quarter 1: Prelude to cleaning out our lockers

First a housekeeping issue: Apparently some have taken issue with my female counterpart being given the moniker "Madame Kicky" on the basis that it is too salacious. The former-Madame Kicky herself suggested "Mistress Kicky." While this was my personal favorite (for obvious reasons) it doesn't solve the salaciousness problem (also for obvious reasons). While some of our older readers have suggested "Dame Kicky," the ex-Madame Kicky doesn't like that name because it makes her sound old, fat, and like a dragon lady. A compromise has been reached with Lady Kicky. She's taken to the name by dressing like she's going to a rennaisance fair today. This only makes me wish we had chosen Mistress Kicky more.

They just showed an NBA Cares commercial featuring Bruce Bowen in some sort of African ceremony hopping around with a Zebra skin on. I think I'd rather watch a reality show where NBA players had to live with African Tribes for a week than watch the game. Can you imagine Gilbert Arenas living in back-water Mozambique? I think he'd probably end up figuring out how to kill wildebeests with his head by the end of the week and give post-show press conferences about how the wild disrespected him. Also, he could tell the natives about colon cleanser. The infomercials make it sound so good.

Barkley gives the classic analysis that Utah may attempt to guard McGrady in this game. Sloan vehemently disagrees and starts Derek Fisher.

During the player introductions, Boozer popped his jersey, pointed at his number, and gave the biggest shit-eating grin I've ever seen. I'm vaguely stunned he doesn't have hundreds of illegitimate children in the Salt Lake City area.

The refs have already started calling 3-seconds against the Jazz. We'll see if it gets called the same way for Yao.

Light Blue uniforms do not bode well. We look like pretty flowers ready to get stomped on by gigantic mongoloid looking centers with giant heads.

Apparently it was Boozer's idea to change uniforms. I'm shocked they're not on the floor in uniforms spotted with tons of red blots.

Capt. Sig going nuts as the Rocket's PA guy plays Gwen Stefani and Akon on the rocket's offensive possession.

Lady Kicky hypothesizing that AK looks like a preying mantis. Claims that's a complement because "Manti aren't as creepy as other bugs."

McGrady goes for the fadeaway shot on Fisher. Apparently concerned he's going to block his shot despite the height difference.

Southwest airlines commercials stunningly fail to mention lack of seating policies lead to sitting between stiflingly fat people on a regular basis.

Sager rocking the lavender shirt with lavender and black tie and vertical stripe suit. I'm disappointed in his relative good taste this time out.

Yao linking arms with Okur on the offensive end. Apparently confused and thinks he's at a square dance.

With Okur all dressed in blue he vaguely reminds me of Snorlax. And I know I just lost everyone over 25 with that one.

I think Yao just got outwrestled by Fisher for a basketball. Yao's wrestling consisted of making a fort over Fisher while Fisher flailed his legs. Highly entertaining.

Harpring just checked in for AK. I think you all know this website's feelings on that subject.

Number of ads I've seen for the Closer in the last 2 weeks: 1,543,538

Number of episodes I've seen of the Closer: 0

About 4 players and a ref just fell on the floor scrambling for a ball. Glad to see the Commish's agents getting more involved.

Close-up on Jerry Sloan. I think I just learned new curse words.

McGrady called for travelling. Reacts like someone shot his mom. Apparently he's unaware they changed the rules so you can't take 4 steps at a time anymore.

Apparently the referee symbol for hooking is to stick out your hip and pat yourself on the ass. Glad to see the referee symbol guide was authored by the Saturday Night Fever choreographing crew.

Giricek hits a 3 and then stuffs McGrady at the other end to prevent him from taking the final shot of the period. I sure feel great about starting Derek Fisher now.

Don't Blame the Tiger

October 3, 2003 - A Day That Will Live in Infamy. Flamboyant tiger boy Roy Horn was mauled by Montecore, a seven year old white tiger. Roy and his "business" partner Siegfried Fischbacher had worked with many tigers throughout the years without incident. It is not known what made Montecore "deviate". Well, as Chris Rock said about it "That tiger didn't go crazy. That tiger went TIGER!"

April 30, 2007 - A Night That Will Live in Infamy. Anti-flamboyant tractor boy Jerry Sloan was attacked by fans and media after he removed Andrei Kirilenko, who had a big assist and an offensive rebound in the previous minute of play, and inserted Derek "Montecore" Fisher into a playoff game with his team trailing by two points and 20 seconds left in regulation. Fisher was called for an offensive foul eight seconds later as he predictably drove the lane and crashed into the first defender who got in his way. Many fans, including myself, wanted Fisher's head on a platter. Upon further reflection, I can't fault Fisher. Fisher went FISHER!

There was no doubt in any rational Jazz fan's mind that the second that Montecore Fisher was inserted was the second that all hope was lost for the Jazz to steal a road game and have a chance to win at home. We have seen Fisher make bad decision after bad decision, often during crunchtime. Fisher does what Fisher does. Which is to make a career out of one lucky desperation made shot. Chris Mullin fell for it. Every national TV broadcaster doing Jazz games has fallen for it. Kevin O'Connor fell for it. Jerry Sloan still falls for it. I even fell for it until I remembered that Fisher was a guy who lost his job to Gary Payton when Payton clearly had nothing left in the tank. Hell, the entire NBA Players' Association fell for it. Montecore Fisher has them all fooled regarding his leadership skills. Montecore Fisher is Chance the Gardner from "Being There".

Fisher has always been about bravado. His face has always exuded competitive fire.

In other words, he doesn't know any better. Jerry "Roy" Sloan played with the tiger and the tiger went tiger and bit him. Don't blame the tiger. Blame the handler. Hopefully, "Roy" learned his lesson and will keep Montecore Fisher caged for the 4th quarter. It will save him from going Fisher. It will protect us from seeing Montecore take the franchise in his grasp and drag it away like a ragdoll. Most of all, it will keep us sane. It is the humane thing to do.

Fisher, er, Harpring Sucks.

17 < 8

In defense of the now-infamous Fisher-for-AK IJSPD, one fan suggested that the move was "obvious", and that those who disagree are basketball ignoramuses. The reasoning? Fisher had scored 17 points in the game, while Andrei had only scored 8.

This was quite eye-opening for me. Never before had I understood that having more of something implies -- nay, defines -- a direct positive correlation with the ability to acquire or proficiency in achieving said something. My life was about to change.

I walked upstairs past my wife, who was talking on the phone. After a couple of seconds, I perceived that she was chatting with her sister, who is due to have her second baby in about a month. I simultaneously felt sorry for my brother-in-law, who has only been able to produce two babies, and felt a sense of accomplishment for myself, father of three. I stood a little taller, my self-esteem buoyed by my blatantly superior manliness.

I moved to the kitchen and threw a Hot Pocket in the microwave. Inspired by Fisher's numerical greatness, I opted to cook it for five minutes instead of the recommended two.


As I was driving to the store, on my way to pick up more paper towels to clean up the microwave, I was passed by a guy going 65 on State Street in his Geo. Instantly I felt like a fool. Sure, my car was capable of achieving such speeds, perhaps even with greater efficiency, but the fact of the matter was that the Geo was going faster. Horrified by my purchasing decision-making, I made a mental note to look into trade-in values for my current vehicle. Putting a Geo in the family line-up was the obvious move.

After blasting recklessly through traffic in my new Metro, and charging into work this morning, I overheard the secretaries bragging about how many words per minute they can type. Somewhat dismayed at my own deficiencies in that area, I set out to improve. I found an online typing test which clocked me right around 65 WPM. However, I discovered that errors are not accounted for in this particular test, and if I simply slammed keys as quickly as I could, that I could attain a much more impressive score. Eager to show off my new 328 WPM skillz, I built up the courage (not all that hard to do with my 3-kid-producing manhood) to e-mail my boss for a raise.

Dear boss,

I have been wiht ht r tarh oaiu hrguisa dhfuilgsdf guisl dhfg sludhf guisd fug shuldif ghsuildf hgsulidfgsldf guhsdfl 3 years now ahsndfjo ghdufio sodf gios; dfigo;s difo;g uaior ewrhaug ehruilggheruger raise gsdfjg shduf ghsudf hul hul$$$?

- bordelais7

I'll let you know how it goes.

Frickin' Fisher.