Because I couldn't title it, "How crazy is it that the Miami Dolphins are actually GOOD this year?!!?!?!" I decided to get a little creative and title this article, "Ode To Richard Butt."
I had the privilege of meeting Richard Butt the other day and I was so mad that he was nice and polite. I thought for sure he would have been an asshole. They say that when life gives you lemons, you should make lemonade, but when life names you Dick Butt you should probably change your name. Or at least hate your parents.
Seriously, who wants to marry into the Butt family? The Butt family has a strong, proud history of helping form the seat of America. If it weren't for the Butts we would all be out on our asses.
I should stop.
But the Butt is just a name. What's in a name? Is it really that precious to preserve a name? If a man has nothing but daughters that marry other men of different names, is a legacy all of a sudden wiped off the face of the planet?
I don't think so. Hell, most of our names come from religious backgrounds and people trying not to sound so foreign. Why is that so sacred?
Names mean little in the grand scheme. Richard Butt should hold his head high and be proud of his rich, Butt heritage. It's a firm tradition in the Butt household to never surrender one's backside.
Seriously, I should stop.
Lets talk sports, Dick Buttheads: Miami is awesome. Okay, maybe I'm riding off the high that the Miami Dolphins just waxed the New Jersey Jets in their own stadium (that the Giants gave to them) but I don't think I am totally off base here when I declare that the Miami Dolphins might be a sleeper for the AFC wild card in 2012.
I don't want to be one of those fans that wins a game and all of sudden becomes "We're gonna win the Super Bowl!". And I'm not. I'm talking Wild Card and I'm talking that it's still a long, long shot.
But what's in a name? The Miami Dolphins have never done anything bold on special teams since I have seen stock footage of Garo Yepremian almost throwing away our "Perfect Season". (That gets italics and caps until someone else does it)
Basically, the Miami Dolphins as a franchise is a conservative group. We do what is needed and never go outside the box.
Well today, we burnt the box to ashes. We blocked a punt for a touchdown, blocked a field goal, and recovered an onside kick. That all happened today for the first time in 20 years, not just for us, but for everybody.
Names only symbolize what you are until you do something different. Richard Butt was a nice guy and had no reason to be because his name is Dick Butt. You wouldn't be mad? I would do my best to live up to the namesake and I just wrote that joke and even I have no idea what that means.
Of course, there is a choking, drowning necessity to make our names proud. It's pressure. It's legacy. And for three families in the world, that's important. If you are like me, which if you are reading this--you are--sorry, you are not defined by labels. I love my family and I will love my children and I know that names are not as strong as the human spirit.
I believe in the untapped resources that every person has.
Next time you think a name matters, just watch 'Billy Madison'. It's a fantastic Adam Sandler film in which the O'Doyle family rules...and then meets their grisly end.
I'm not suggesting you forsake where you came from, I just want you to know that we no longer define people by that measurement. I'm getting too preachy. This is a sports blog. Go Dolphins.
Monday, October 29, 2012
Thursday, October 18, 2012
Your Heroes Suck
Down here on the Studly Pastures we try to make an honest living. It's not easy raising a stud farm for unicorns but in order to do it right it's important to not cut corners.
Everything is legitimate and I'm very proud of that.
Things that I consider illegitimate: the reality shows on Bravo, people that live their life by the phrase YOLO, tofurkey, religious extremists, most of my children, and Alex Rodriguez.
I'm just kidding, I don't have any kids.
But seriously, Alex Rodriguez is a douche. I drink scotch every Little League World Series I watch when I see those impressionable youths from around the world that declare that A-Rod is their favorite baseball player.
Don't you stupid kids know what happens when you idolize a false idol? I'm not really sure either but apparently a river of blood is involved and that's enough for me to back out.
Let me put this bluntly: A-Rod hasn't just done enough to embarrass the sport of baseball but he's accomplished enough in his lifetime thus far to make ME embarrassed that he is also a human being. If A-Rod was a chimpanzee, I could let it slide but dammit it all to Hell, he's a person.
And he's only 37. I can only imagine what kind of detriment to society he'll apply with the rest of his natural existence. The selfish moron doesn't even have the sense to die.
How bad is Alex Rodriguez at being a person? He can't have any pets because when he wakes up in the morning and goes to let them out to pee they just run themselves directly into oncoming traffic so they don't have to live with Alex Rodriguez anymore.
Alex Rodriguez didn't leave his wife to go and date Cameron Diaz. His wife didn't exist. It was simply Alex Rodriguez in drag. He's so narcissistic that he could only marry himself--and then cheat on himself.
Angels don't get their wings every time a bell rings, they get their wings every time Alex Rodriguez takes a kidney shot. By the way, that's no way implying that Alex Rodriguez is a creature descended from the bowels of Hell. He's too much of a Nancy for that. (I apologize to all Nancy's out there that I just offended by comparing you to Alex Rodriguez)
When he broke his hand earlier this season I thought to myself, "Oh no! That's the hand he uses to try and swat the baseball out of the first baseman's mitt! How will he cheat now!?"
And then I remembered that he takes steroids and knew that everything would be right with the world and I slept soundly that night.
I hate the idea of animal cruelty and this is in no way an endorsement of PETA. I think those tree-hugging pansies are lame too. I do, however, have a proposal. I think that instead of product testing on animals we should just go ahead and do it on Alex Rodriguez. Whatever happens to him happens.
A-Rod, I'm glad you're on the bench, in New York, during the play-offs, on the verge of elimination. This is the beginning of your purgatory. The rest will come when you are traded to the Miami Marlins.
Enjoy the rest of your life being absolutely terrible at everything you do, douche.
Everything is legitimate and I'm very proud of that.
Things that I consider illegitimate: the reality shows on Bravo, people that live their life by the phrase YOLO, tofurkey, religious extremists, most of my children, and Alex Rodriguez.
I'm just kidding, I don't have any kids.
But seriously, Alex Rodriguez is a douche. I drink scotch every Little League World Series I watch when I see those impressionable youths from around the world that declare that A-Rod is their favorite baseball player.
Don't you stupid kids know what happens when you idolize a false idol? I'm not really sure either but apparently a river of blood is involved and that's enough for me to back out.
Let me put this bluntly: A-Rod hasn't just done enough to embarrass the sport of baseball but he's accomplished enough in his lifetime thus far to make ME embarrassed that he is also a human being. If A-Rod was a chimpanzee, I could let it slide but dammit it all to Hell, he's a person.
And he's only 37. I can only imagine what kind of detriment to society he'll apply with the rest of his natural existence. The selfish moron doesn't even have the sense to die.
How bad is Alex Rodriguez at being a person? He can't have any pets because when he wakes up in the morning and goes to let them out to pee they just run themselves directly into oncoming traffic so they don't have to live with Alex Rodriguez anymore.
Alex Rodriguez didn't leave his wife to go and date Cameron Diaz. His wife didn't exist. It was simply Alex Rodriguez in drag. He's so narcissistic that he could only marry himself--and then cheat on himself.
Angels don't get their wings every time a bell rings, they get their wings every time Alex Rodriguez takes a kidney shot. By the way, that's no way implying that Alex Rodriguez is a creature descended from the bowels of Hell. He's too much of a Nancy for that. (I apologize to all Nancy's out there that I just offended by comparing you to Alex Rodriguez)
When he broke his hand earlier this season I thought to myself, "Oh no! That's the hand he uses to try and swat the baseball out of the first baseman's mitt! How will he cheat now!?"
And then I remembered that he takes steroids and knew that everything would be right with the world and I slept soundly that night.
I hate the idea of animal cruelty and this is in no way an endorsement of PETA. I think those tree-hugging pansies are lame too. I do, however, have a proposal. I think that instead of product testing on animals we should just go ahead and do it on Alex Rodriguez. Whatever happens to him happens.
A-Rod, I'm glad you're on the bench, in New York, during the play-offs, on the verge of elimination. This is the beginning of your purgatory. The rest will come when you are traded to the Miami Marlins.
Enjoy the rest of your life being absolutely terrible at everything you do, douche.
Monday, October 1, 2012
It's October. Sorry.
Happy October, kids. And all that means is that a lot of us are about to have a bad time in Major League Baseball.
For those of you that would rather watch paint dry I implore you to read something else. For the love of anything that you consider holy, educate yourselves.
I want to vomit. The atmosphere in the Twilight Zone this time of year gets really thick and it presses down on my stomach and kidneys to where I gag and piss out blood. It's not very glamourous but then again--not much is in the Twilight Zone.
October signals the end of just about all baseball that anybody cares about, the relevance of your favorite football team, and the start of all things basketball.
For those of you that like good things, this is a really positive month.
For people like me, I'll be in a scotch coma.
You think for someone who surrounds himself in a sportsverse that I would take steps to ensure I have something to talk about all year long. Well, turns out, masochism is a hell of drug.
The only thing college basketball will be good for me this year is a easy way to blow twenty bucks on a three-team parlay. I only do twenty bucks because I'll probably do it about fifteen times this year. I never learn my lesson.
Hell, the highlight of my October will be Halloween when I pass out candy to the local dregs and their offspring. Don't confuse me with someone who gives a crap about children, I really don't. I just know the rest of society could give less of a crap if some kids got some candy one day out of the year. Plus, I give out the good stuff. I refuse to be caught up in the brainwashed masses that are convinced that candy corn is even remotely edible. It sucks and needs to be destroyed.
Speaking of gambling, how badly do the Dolphins try and screw you? They never win but they always cover the spread by losing by a field goal in overtime. What an awful thing to do. They wrench your heart and your wallet.
Scumbags.
Vegas is so prevalent in sports these days that it almost pays more to not be a fan.
Correction: It definitely pays more. You make money and don't suffer the heartbreak. If only I could stop getting hopped up on this masochism.
For those of you that would rather watch paint dry I implore you to read something else. For the love of anything that you consider holy, educate yourselves.
I want to vomit. The atmosphere in the Twilight Zone this time of year gets really thick and it presses down on my stomach and kidneys to where I gag and piss out blood. It's not very glamourous but then again--not much is in the Twilight Zone.
October signals the end of just about all baseball that anybody cares about, the relevance of your favorite football team, and the start of all things basketball.
For those of you that like good things, this is a really positive month.
For people like me, I'll be in a scotch coma.
You think for someone who surrounds himself in a sportsverse that I would take steps to ensure I have something to talk about all year long. Well, turns out, masochism is a hell of drug.
The only thing college basketball will be good for me this year is a easy way to blow twenty bucks on a three-team parlay. I only do twenty bucks because I'll probably do it about fifteen times this year. I never learn my lesson.
Hell, the highlight of my October will be Halloween when I pass out candy to the local dregs and their offspring. Don't confuse me with someone who gives a crap about children, I really don't. I just know the rest of society could give less of a crap if some kids got some candy one day out of the year. Plus, I give out the good stuff. I refuse to be caught up in the brainwashed masses that are convinced that candy corn is even remotely edible. It sucks and needs to be destroyed.
Speaking of gambling, how badly do the Dolphins try and screw you? They never win but they always cover the spread by losing by a field goal in overtime. What an awful thing to do. They wrench your heart and your wallet.
Scumbags.
Vegas is so prevalent in sports these days that it almost pays more to not be a fan.
Correction: It definitely pays more. You make money and don't suffer the heartbreak. If only I could stop getting hopped up on this masochism.
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