Customer Reviews

Hockey Legends

5 star:		(1)
4 star:		(1)
3 star:		(1)
2 star:		(0)
1 star:		(6)

 

 

As most fans of hockey and SoSH know, Jeff Jacobs always brings a different perspective to all of his writing endeavors. This tome, one detailing his personal decent into the unsavoury world of male prostition and child slavery, is no different.

Whether he is writing about his affinity for scatological videos or his consuming envy of minority interns, he just cannot escape the fact the while he may be an equal on the vitriolic scale, he just doesn't have the ability to equal the book sales of CHB.

Some, like Lanternjaw, say that the Courant is a vile rag, but while I normally would throw it out, when a Jacobs column is featured, I find it imminently useful for lining my cat's litter box.

As Jacobs is quoted on the dust cover of this book, "If I can't match CHB or Buckley, I'll remain in Hartford and expose myself in elementary school yards."

Jeff Jacobs is possibly the least talented sportswriter in the world, and I say this as a resident of a town that hosts the NY Daily News and NY Post. It is now my goal in life to find Jeff Jacobs and waste an amount of his time equal to the amount of time I spent reading his book, which was approximately 30 minutes until I decided my fireplace needed more kindling. This was back in June.

The Biblical book of Job is easier to read than this hack. My 5-year-old nephew writes more intelligently. If it weren't for spell checkers in the editing process his sentences probably wouldn't have periods. Or spaces between words.

On top of all this, Jeff Jacobs is a bad human being, who would likely use his position as columnist in a hartford newspaper to personally attack the lifestyle and hobbies of a coworker just out of spite, and likely because that coworker refused to share secrets with him. Not that this has ever occurred, of course.

Terrible. Easily the worst hockey book ever written. Ranking the Detroit octopus as one of his 10 greatest blue-liners? Unbelievable.

Mine came with pages missing.

Who knew there were so many legends in hockey? Peter Pan, Paul Bunyan, Bigfoot, King Arthur - the list goes on, and the author weaves their tales of mystery and puck handling with a style that would make Edward Bulwar-Lytton proud.

For example: "Centuries may pass, as centuries often do, as swiftly and silently as a giant and his blue ox skating into the neutral zone with 30 seconds left on a power play, but the stories of the legends - the true legends of hockey, must be told. And these are some of them."

I can't recommend this book highly enough.

No consistency. Poorly written. Finished reading the book with an idea that the author put this book together on a few raint weeekends.

Jeff Jacobs is a genius. That isn't a word I throw around lightly, mind you; I reserve it for the true greats in any field--people like Alphonse Mucha, Peter North, and Ian Ziering. Jeff Jacobs, it turns out, is a genius in his chosen field of hornswaggling. I bought this book expecting a book about the greats of ice hockey. Ivan Lebre! Mike Liut! Pat Verbeek!

Instead, Jacobs has chosen to expose readers who unwittingly purchase his book to his invented brands of hockey. And boy, do I ever hope these aren't widely played. First, there are the expected, once you figure out you've been duped: the description of Tonsil Hockey, which I don't have to explain, is littered with Jacobs' fantasies about who he'd like to play Tonsil Hockey with: Michael Bloomberg, the now-departed Queen Mum, and a young man named Sameer for whom Jacobs seems to have an unrequited lust.

Then there's Genital Hockey, which as I understand it--I only read a few pages before skipping this chapter in disgust--involves slapping one's member repeatedly against used, unwashed sporting goods that once belonged to professional athletes (Jacobs is a big fan of Derek Jeter). Based on this chapter alone, this should not have been marketed as a pop-up book for kids. The same caveat applies to the chapter on Rectal Hockey.

All in all, a shameful book. I don't know why Honcho Publishing agreed to be a part of this fiasco.

in the Buck a Bookstores located throughout the New England region.

Shockingly enough, my book was in the stores too.
I'm investigating if Pedro, Manny or Jurassic Carl were involved with that happening.

This book was amazing. What I liked most was the author's passionate feelings for the great Mike Liut. The way he writes about how taut he gripped his stick as the speeding pucks tried to penetrate the soft inner folds of the goal net made me weep. I believed the author when he stated so honestly that he would have given his all to be one of those pucks as it traveled at lightning speed for the hole. I wept again. However what I did not understandis why Jacobs spent so much time speaking about the goalie's 3 hole and how badly he wanted to score there. Overall I found his affection for this team overwhelming and his desire to once again have a team in Hartford that no one cares about playing their games in a mall that hosts flea markets and monster truck pulls and the WWE quite moving. I rate this 3 checks out of 5.

Oh and Goldberg rules!!!

Lots of good info. I'm know as a hockey nut where I live. And this book is one of the best. If you are tring to get into the game or just want to learn about a few legends of days gone by. Get this book!