I've often had to sit back and reflect on a big issue that I seem to constantly deal with.
I look around at other people watching the same football game that I am and they're cheering while I am sitting there with a scorned look on my face. I see them cheering and I just don't get it--are they watching the same game that I am? I must be crazy because I swear I have seen this game before because I know exactly what's going to happen!
I'm not a pessimist. I go into the game truly believing that they're not going to take things lightly and actually treat this like something they want to strive towards...uh...you know...success. That thing. But then I see their damn faces and the way they walk and to quote Aragorn "it would take the very heart of me" because they LOOK LIKE THEY ALREADY LOST THE DAMN GAME. Are you kidding me? Where's the motivation? Where's the desire? Where is the "I NEED this!?"
Bad teams are separated from great teams because great teams "NEED" to win. Dropping two straight games against eliminated teams and only scoring seven points is not even close to showing need, or desire, or even fielding a professional football team. I get to spell out 'seven' because AP style says you don't get to use the numeral until you get past ten. 10! They couldn't even score 10 points against The Toronto Forgettables and the Damn Jersery Dogs. They only thing they had to play for was to ruin Miami's season and that's exactly what they accomplished because they wanted it more...even though we were playing for the shot at the...wait for it...PLAYOFFS!
*Note: For those of you that are unsure on how the NFL operates, the playoffs are the opportunity that a team gets to try to advance to the championship game known collectively as the Super Bowl. It's what every team strives for at Day One but only twelve teams get the shot from this point on. The trick is to be one of those twelve teams by this point or you're already waiting in next year's line. The Super Bowl, the pinnacle of American sports, was not enough of an enticing title for the Miami Dolphins that they decided to crap all over themselves against two teams that would only get the chance to view the trophy behind a glass case and say, "Oh, how nice." Miami has done this now for 40 years. Please notice the '40'.
The thing that astonished me more is that I'm only 28 and I'm this passionate about it. God forbid you were born in 1974. I can only imagine what you're going through right now, you poor, second-guessing yourself over everything, neurotic virgin. What if she likes me? What if she doesn't? Oh God, she doesn't even know I exist! At this point, the only thing that I can think of that would save you from this torture is to completely forsake everything sports-related and go live in a cabin in the woods and hunt for all your sustenance. Personally? I'm headed for the mountains and I'll live among the goats and the Sherpas and we'll all sit around and talk about cliffs and high winds and it will have nothing to do with the Miami Dolphins and I'll retain my sanity. Yeah...that's it.
Here's how you start to solve the problem: Anybody who ever made a decision in what determined to be the outcome of any play in any game this season needs to be fired. Seriously. You called a play, you're gone. You supported a play-call, take a hike. If you saw somebody do either of these and thought, 'This makes sense', you are about to collect unemployment my friend because you are what we like to call an inept MORON! I'm calling for the heads of Joe Philbin (the head coach), Mike Sherman (the offensive coordinator), Jim Turner (the offensive line coach), and so on and so forth.
Ironically, the one person that will probably be fired is the one that shouldn't and that's Jeff Ireland, the general manager. Look, if I buy you a hammer and say, "Go do work with this hammer" and you immediately raise it up to nail something in and the pointy end goes directly into your eyeball--that's not my fault. You're a moron, once again, and don't know how to use the tools I gave you to do the job that was intended. It's not Ireland's fault that he went out and got the fastest deep-threat in the game for a quarterback that can't throw an accurate deep pass...okay...I'll stop there. But this brings me to my little, adorable Fuzzby.
Tannehill did several things to impress me this season and I even considered him for Furby status. For starters, he improved...he really did. He made quicker decisions that were actually the right ones and there was no question that he was the leader of this team. Secondly, he proved he is one tough son of a bitch. He took a lot of hits this year--most of them thanks to the terrible offensive line--but he trotted his ass out there every single game. I honestly can't remember, nor care to look it up, the last time that a Dolphins' quarterback started every game of the season. I like Tannehill as the Dolphins' quarterback but he's still Fuzzby status. He can't utilize his best weapon and doesn't know when to throw the ball. That's a Fuzzby...but he gets a little bit of a free pass this season because of how terrible the offensive line was...and that brings me to my next point:
What the Hell did Philbin do exactly to extinguish the whole 'bullying' controversy? I read earlier yesterday that Don Shula endorsed Philbin as head coach. Well kids, looks like Unky Don has slipped into senility because the only thing Philbin did was remove everybody involved from the clubhouse and lose to the win-less Buccaneers on Monday Night Football. Interesting strategy!
So I sit here, hours after nothing but bitter defeat and I ask, "What was this season for?"
Miami finished 8-8. Three early wins against teams we thought would be good that turned out not to be. Four losses in a row that was lead by a loss that we knew would happen but didn't think would snowball. But then came a few bizarre games that probably could have gone either way but, eh, they didn't because who cares. Then the team turned it on and beat some really good teams only just to end the season by losing to some really bad teams. What was this season for? Absolutely nothing. There's nothing to take away from the schedule because every game was an enigma. Nothing made sense. Miami defeated Cincinnati, New England, San Diego, and Indianapolis and all those teams are in the playoffs (and three of them are division winners). Miami is out of the playoffs because they lost to Buffalo and Jersey who were playing to see which team would be most relevant out of the irrelevant and out of Buffalo, Jersey, and Miami the only team to lay down was Miami.
What?!?
So I watch them cheering and I'm standing there so angry and I wish I could be so naive. I really do. But I can't. I study it. I remember things. I HATE when the commentators are right because they never should be. They shouldn't know and if they do it's because your team SUCKS.
Kids, have a safe and happy New Year's Eve. Don't get incarcerated because I want you to see the epic upset that UCF puts on Baylor in the Fiesta Bowl. Last I checked the line was -16.5 Baylor which is definitely bulletin board material for the Knights. I'll see you in 2014, my friends, and I'll try a little harder next year.
Monday, December 30, 2013
Saturday, December 21, 2013
Saban, Thy Name is Evil
Gluttony is one of the seven deadly sins of mankind, kids, and it can easily be defined as an insatiable appetite that leads to one's own destruction.
Of course we're assuming that the person in question is a human being, of which, Nick Saban is not.
Nick Saban is a snake, and as all scholars of the Bible know, brought about the corruption of men. Saban is a plague upon your houses, a river of blood, and a swarm of locusts all wrapped up in one suave and menacing hairstyle. Saban looks like the guy that is sent to collect the security money. If Saban didn't coach football he could easily run a pawn shop that was under constant surveillance of the FBI.
Most importantly, Nick Saban is the epitome of gluttony. He's not satisfied until he's consumed everything.
Mack Brown has been the head coach of the Texas Longhorns for 16 years and he never stood a chance this year. He's old, he's lost his grip, and Texas hasn't really been relevant since Vince Young but I believe that some things you let run it's natural course. Mack Brown deserves better. He made Vince Young a winner for crying out loud!
Still, and it's the nature of the beast, but sports is what have you down for me lately and all Mack Brown has done is age. At the time of this posting, Mack Brown is still the head coach of the Texas Longhorns but when you go back to read this two days later (because I have sustainability, dammit!) he will be officially another retiree soaking up social security in the good ol' state of Florida and Nick Saban will be picking out burnt orange drapes for his new office in Austin.
Oh sure, he'll come out and say publicly that he's fully invested in Alabama and that he's busy focusing on the bowl game and yadda yadda yadda. We've heard this all before back in 2007
EDIT: I started writing this about a week and a half ago and abandoned it at this point because I felt that it had just become one big Nick Saban hate-fest and indeed I was right. You should also notice that there is no period after "We've heard this all before back in 2007" because that's how abruptly I stopped. I return to you now to finish what I've started because there's been some developments...but the overall theme remains the same. The following takes place on December 21, 2013 and beyond.
Well, kids, Mack Brown has gone fishin'. He has been successfully bullied out of his job and will step down officially after Texas' bowl game in the something or other...sigh...I can't do it. I can't sit here and drink scotch, the nectar of the Gods, and not be completely horrified at what has transpired.
Let's put it this way: If Satan decided to live among mankind in order to directly attempt to influence them don't you think he'd be cocky enough to only change his name by a single letter? And take up his residency in the very religious South? Alabama loves three things: football, God, and Duck Dynasty--apparently added to the list this year.
To say that Nick Saban is evil is like saying that Hugh Hefner is a pimp because it's a vast understatement. Hugh Hefner is older than the invention of written language yet he constantly has 20-year old blondes straight from the Sears catalog looking to sweep his front porch and I'm not even sure that's a euphemism. Hefner's not a pimp...he's the guy that the word 'pimp' spawned from. It came off of him like a weird growth that the rest of us have lanced off and take a three-day weekend.
Nick Saban is getting paid $7.5 million dollars a year to be a smug asshole. What the Hell!? Where was that category when I was signing up for classes in college? "Hey man, how's your classes going this semester?" "Well, I'm doing well in Smug but I fear I might be on the fringe in Asshole. How about you?" "I'm doing well in Asshole but can't figure out Smug so we should help each other study." "Sounds like a plan, my name is Nick by the way." "I'm Alex Rodriguez." WE'RE ALL THE SAME PERSON!
Seven and a half million dollars to treat America's impressionable youth like the scumbags they are for trying to make something of themselves and all we're doing is trying to live day by day without any regions of the country thinking we're a plague on mankind. This feels like a bad Keanu Reeves movie...oops sorry, I mean a Keanu Reeves movie.
(By the way, that's how you spell 'oops', kids. If I see opps one more time I swear to Grammar Jesus that I might just not like your mundane and probably completely personal Facebook status!)
Look, for any aspiring prospect that happens to read this blog and also gets recruited by Nick Saban I am not saying you are getting recruited by the Devil. I'm not. I'm simply saying that if you willingly go stand by Saban you are just forsaking everything that's ever made you a respectable human being and that you choose personal gain over anything that is right and sacred. Don't be confused.
I'm kinda pleased in thinking this might be the last Studly of 2013. This made me feel good. Kids, have a great Christmas/Whatever holiday you weirdos celebrate, and make sure you come back down to the Pastures in 2014. My inspiration never lacks because humans never disappoint me.
Oh, by the way, the whole "last Studly of 2013" won't stand. The Dolphins will either implode, actually succeed, or do something so mediocre that I have to write again. Don't pop the champagne just yet, kids.
Of course we're assuming that the person in question is a human being, of which, Nick Saban is not.
Nick Saban is a snake, and as all scholars of the Bible know, brought about the corruption of men. Saban is a plague upon your houses, a river of blood, and a swarm of locusts all wrapped up in one suave and menacing hairstyle. Saban looks like the guy that is sent to collect the security money. If Saban didn't coach football he could easily run a pawn shop that was under constant surveillance of the FBI.
Most importantly, Nick Saban is the epitome of gluttony. He's not satisfied until he's consumed everything.
Mack Brown has been the head coach of the Texas Longhorns for 16 years and he never stood a chance this year. He's old, he's lost his grip, and Texas hasn't really been relevant since Vince Young but I believe that some things you let run it's natural course. Mack Brown deserves better. He made Vince Young a winner for crying out loud!
Still, and it's the nature of the beast, but sports is what have you down for me lately and all Mack Brown has done is age. At the time of this posting, Mack Brown is still the head coach of the Texas Longhorns but when you go back to read this two days later (because I have sustainability, dammit!) he will be officially another retiree soaking up social security in the good ol' state of Florida and Nick Saban will be picking out burnt orange drapes for his new office in Austin.
Oh sure, he'll come out and say publicly that he's fully invested in Alabama and that he's busy focusing on the bowl game and yadda yadda yadda. We've heard this all before back in 2007
EDIT: I started writing this about a week and a half ago and abandoned it at this point because I felt that it had just become one big Nick Saban hate-fest and indeed I was right. You should also notice that there is no period after "We've heard this all before back in 2007" because that's how abruptly I stopped. I return to you now to finish what I've started because there's been some developments...but the overall theme remains the same. The following takes place on December 21, 2013 and beyond.
Well, kids, Mack Brown has gone fishin'. He has been successfully bullied out of his job and will step down officially after Texas' bowl game in the something or other...sigh...I can't do it. I can't sit here and drink scotch, the nectar of the Gods, and not be completely horrified at what has transpired.
Let's put it this way: If Satan decided to live among mankind in order to directly attempt to influence them don't you think he'd be cocky enough to only change his name by a single letter? And take up his residency in the very religious South? Alabama loves three things: football, God, and Duck Dynasty--apparently added to the list this year.
To say that Nick Saban is evil is like saying that Hugh Hefner is a pimp because it's a vast understatement. Hugh Hefner is older than the invention of written language yet he constantly has 20-year old blondes straight from the Sears catalog looking to sweep his front porch and I'm not even sure that's a euphemism. Hefner's not a pimp...he's the guy that the word 'pimp' spawned from. It came off of him like a weird growth that the rest of us have lanced off and take a three-day weekend.
Nick Saban is getting paid $7.5 million dollars a year to be a smug asshole. What the Hell!? Where was that category when I was signing up for classes in college? "Hey man, how's your classes going this semester?" "Well, I'm doing well in Smug but I fear I might be on the fringe in Asshole. How about you?" "I'm doing well in Asshole but can't figure out Smug so we should help each other study." "Sounds like a plan, my name is Nick by the way." "I'm Alex Rodriguez." WE'RE ALL THE SAME PERSON!
Seven and a half million dollars to treat America's impressionable youth like the scumbags they are for trying to make something of themselves and all we're doing is trying to live day by day without any regions of the country thinking we're a plague on mankind. This feels like a bad Keanu Reeves movie...oops sorry, I mean a Keanu Reeves movie.
(By the way, that's how you spell 'oops', kids. If I see opps one more time I swear to Grammar Jesus that I might just not like your mundane and probably completely personal Facebook status!)
Look, for any aspiring prospect that happens to read this blog and also gets recruited by Nick Saban I am not saying you are getting recruited by the Devil. I'm not. I'm simply saying that if you willingly go stand by Saban you are just forsaking everything that's ever made you a respectable human being and that you choose personal gain over anything that is right and sacred. Don't be confused.
I'm kinda pleased in thinking this might be the last Studly of 2013. This made me feel good. Kids, have a great Christmas/Whatever holiday you weirdos celebrate, and make sure you come back down to the Pastures in 2014. My inspiration never lacks because humans never disappoint me.
Oh, by the way, the whole "last Studly of 2013" won't stand. The Dolphins will either implode, actually succeed, or do something so mediocre that I have to write again. Don't pop the champagne just yet, kids.
Saturday, December 7, 2013
Stocking Stuffers
I have been keeping up the ol' Studly Pastures blog for over four years now, I've watched sports much longer than that, and I've even been paid in legal tender for some of the things I have written and I honestly cannot sit here and tell you why Robinson Cano deserves $240 million.
Take that $240 million, halve it, then halve it again, then halve it two more times and that's what I would pay a 31-year old second baseman over two years. I'm obviously a huge proponent of sabermetrics because I follow the Tampa Bay Rays and I thought that the Seattle Mariners were trying to be scholars of the same train of thought but then they just throw us a wicked googly like this and I just...I just...don't get it! I don't get it! Take that money, invest it in pitching and solid defense and on-base percentage and now you've just taken a small-market team and made them competitive in a big-market team world. Take that money, invest it in one guy and you've sunk your battleship. You're just begging for a disaster, aren't you? What if he gets hurt? What if he has a down year? What if, God forbid, he starts declining in every major statistical category like most ballplayers do after 30?
The Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim Southeast of San Francisco and west of Last Vegas, Nevada have taken the liberty of making colossal failures of huge contracts for you, Seattle, and you chose to ignore them even though they are in your same division! Albert Pujols and Josh Hamilton were the lucky recipients of great agents and a terrible precedent for a free-agent market in Major League Baseball. And the Angels were victims of both and the men in charge of making those deals no longer have any hair or functional livers.
Not you, Seattle. You had to painfully part with your boy, Ichiro. You salvaged enough money to lock up Felix Hernandez. You bought bargain basement players so you could plan for the future. You had a PLAN, Seattle, I know you did! Then one night you got drunk and went out and had a little too much fun and when you woke up in the morning there was a 31-year old Dominican man in your bed and he wants breakfast, you naive jerks.
For your stocking stuffer, Seattle Mariners, you get a copy of Moneyball. DVD, not Blueray. Sit there and watch how Brad Pitt wheels and deals irrelevant names for other irrelevant names and is successful but never wins anything meaningful just like sabermetrics has proven thus far.
As always, if I was trying to be a successful sports blogger, I would never bother with mentioning the US men's soccer team because there's probably like a whole two of you that actually care about the next words that appear on your screen but then again here we are.
I love soccer and I love the US men's soccer team and I stand up for them even when they don't deserve it. They're like my fictional son that sucks at sports but is out there every single day trying his little heart out and just not squaring up at all with the other kids. And after every match I take him out for ice cream and he's really proud of himself for trying and I just sit there trying not to let him see my shame and I'm secretly glad he had to settle for strawberry because they were out of mint and chocolate chip.
With that said, the US team got hosed today for the World Cup draw. Our opponents? Oh just some no-name countries that never play soccer because they're great economically and stuff. Ghana, Portugal, and Germany. Are you kidding me? Talk about a total non-invite. If you didn't want us to come to your party, you could have just said so, Brazil!
I know a lot of readers won't take the time to wikipedia a lot of the soccer jargon I use in this blog so I'll help you out and secretly tell you it's never good to be in something dubbed the "group of death". They call it that because the World Cup doesn't start until next July and we've already been given our 'Participant' ribbons.
For your stocking stuffer, US men's soccer team, you get the board game, Risk. It's a strategic board game of world domination and NOBODY can take that away from you. Get 'em, boys!
In the NFL world, Gary Kubiak was mercifully fired today as head coach of the Houston Texans and that's honestly best for him and his health. If you truly love something you set it free and that's exactly what Houston is doing for their fans this year by making Wade Phillips the interim head coach. Look, Kubiak had to go, that much was clear, but I wouldn't make Wade Phillips the interim 'puzzled look while hands on hips guy' and he's really, really good at that.
I feel partially responsible for Kubiak's departure because I picked Houston to go to the Super Bowl this year and that's basically a kiss of death. And I would be sad for him but he's going to get a nice coordinator job next year that's less demanding and it will be great for his health and his kids won't have to spend Christmas at the Phillips' household and I'm thankful for that because we all know that's gotta be really, really disgusting. I heard he likes to sacrifice a live pig and let the blood flow down his naked chest. I just shuddered and gagged at the same time.
Houston isn't very good this year. In fact, they're pretty terrible. They made Jacksonville look decent enough and they won't even sign Tebow to stay relevant. So the Houston Texans did what the NFL demands from losers trying to get better and that's to start completely over from scratch and be out of contention for at least the next four years, if you're lucky. Does the rhetoric that you get rid of the highest titled and most recognized figure to get better as a whole fly in any other scenario than medieval times? It's only a revolution if you win.
For your stocking stuffer, Gary Kubiak, you get a very polite and official interview as offensive coordinator for the Washington Redskins next year! You deserve it, you're just the scapegoat, and you'll probably still end up being a quarterbacks coach or something equally demeaning.
Finally, I'm like a lot of you right now playing in all of the fantasy football playoffs that aren't worth anything other than pride and bragging rights. While those things are cool, I too like cold hard cash and am very ashamed at myself for not making it where it really counts. Stop for a minute for a 'that's what she said' joke.
Let me remind you fantasy players that March Madness is pretty much right around the corner and this year we get to do a World Cup bracket too and both of those things are crap shoots. So rejoice, fellow failures, and know that blind luck could possibly be in your favor fairly shortly.
For your stocking stuffer, fantasy football playoff miss-outs, I give you false hope. Hey, at least it's something.
Take that $240 million, halve it, then halve it again, then halve it two more times and that's what I would pay a 31-year old second baseman over two years. I'm obviously a huge proponent of sabermetrics because I follow the Tampa Bay Rays and I thought that the Seattle Mariners were trying to be scholars of the same train of thought but then they just throw us a wicked googly like this and I just...I just...don't get it! I don't get it! Take that money, invest it in pitching and solid defense and on-base percentage and now you've just taken a small-market team and made them competitive in a big-market team world. Take that money, invest it in one guy and you've sunk your battleship. You're just begging for a disaster, aren't you? What if he gets hurt? What if he has a down year? What if, God forbid, he starts declining in every major statistical category like most ballplayers do after 30?
The Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim Southeast of San Francisco and west of Last Vegas, Nevada have taken the liberty of making colossal failures of huge contracts for you, Seattle, and you chose to ignore them even though they are in your same division! Albert Pujols and Josh Hamilton were the lucky recipients of great agents and a terrible precedent for a free-agent market in Major League Baseball. And the Angels were victims of both and the men in charge of making those deals no longer have any hair or functional livers.
Not you, Seattle. You had to painfully part with your boy, Ichiro. You salvaged enough money to lock up Felix Hernandez. You bought bargain basement players so you could plan for the future. You had a PLAN, Seattle, I know you did! Then one night you got drunk and went out and had a little too much fun and when you woke up in the morning there was a 31-year old Dominican man in your bed and he wants breakfast, you naive jerks.
For your stocking stuffer, Seattle Mariners, you get a copy of Moneyball. DVD, not Blueray. Sit there and watch how Brad Pitt wheels and deals irrelevant names for other irrelevant names and is successful but never wins anything meaningful just like sabermetrics has proven thus far.
As always, if I was trying to be a successful sports blogger, I would never bother with mentioning the US men's soccer team because there's probably like a whole two of you that actually care about the next words that appear on your screen but then again here we are.
I love soccer and I love the US men's soccer team and I stand up for them even when they don't deserve it. They're like my fictional son that sucks at sports but is out there every single day trying his little heart out and just not squaring up at all with the other kids. And after every match I take him out for ice cream and he's really proud of himself for trying and I just sit there trying not to let him see my shame and I'm secretly glad he had to settle for strawberry because they were out of mint and chocolate chip.
With that said, the US team got hosed today for the World Cup draw. Our opponents? Oh just some no-name countries that never play soccer because they're great economically and stuff. Ghana, Portugal, and Germany. Are you kidding me? Talk about a total non-invite. If you didn't want us to come to your party, you could have just said so, Brazil!
I know a lot of readers won't take the time to wikipedia a lot of the soccer jargon I use in this blog so I'll help you out and secretly tell you it's never good to be in something dubbed the "group of death". They call it that because the World Cup doesn't start until next July and we've already been given our 'Participant' ribbons.
For your stocking stuffer, US men's soccer team, you get the board game, Risk. It's a strategic board game of world domination and NOBODY can take that away from you. Get 'em, boys!
In the NFL world, Gary Kubiak was mercifully fired today as head coach of the Houston Texans and that's honestly best for him and his health. If you truly love something you set it free and that's exactly what Houston is doing for their fans this year by making Wade Phillips the interim head coach. Look, Kubiak had to go, that much was clear, but I wouldn't make Wade Phillips the interim 'puzzled look while hands on hips guy' and he's really, really good at that.
I feel partially responsible for Kubiak's departure because I picked Houston to go to the Super Bowl this year and that's basically a kiss of death. And I would be sad for him but he's going to get a nice coordinator job next year that's less demanding and it will be great for his health and his kids won't have to spend Christmas at the Phillips' household and I'm thankful for that because we all know that's gotta be really, really disgusting. I heard he likes to sacrifice a live pig and let the blood flow down his naked chest. I just shuddered and gagged at the same time.
Houston isn't very good this year. In fact, they're pretty terrible. They made Jacksonville look decent enough and they won't even sign Tebow to stay relevant. So the Houston Texans did what the NFL demands from losers trying to get better and that's to start completely over from scratch and be out of contention for at least the next four years, if you're lucky. Does the rhetoric that you get rid of the highest titled and most recognized figure to get better as a whole fly in any other scenario than medieval times? It's only a revolution if you win.
For your stocking stuffer, Gary Kubiak, you get a very polite and official interview as offensive coordinator for the Washington Redskins next year! You deserve it, you're just the scapegoat, and you'll probably still end up being a quarterbacks coach or something equally demeaning.
Finally, I'm like a lot of you right now playing in all of the fantasy football playoffs that aren't worth anything other than pride and bragging rights. While those things are cool, I too like cold hard cash and am very ashamed at myself for not making it where it really counts. Stop for a minute for a 'that's what she said' joke.
Let me remind you fantasy players that March Madness is pretty much right around the corner and this year we get to do a World Cup bracket too and both of those things are crap shoots. So rejoice, fellow failures, and know that blind luck could possibly be in your favor fairly shortly.
For your stocking stuffer, fantasy football playoff miss-outs, I give you false hope. Hey, at least it's something.
Friday, November 22, 2013
Crow Before Turkey
We've reached that time of year again, kiddos, where I start getting excited because football games are starting to really matter.
Of course they all MATTER but now we're starting to separate the cream from whatever else is in the same mixture as cream...the goop I guess. Is it goop? Goop has to be something because I know it's a word.
Anyways, I think this would be as good as a time as any to check in on my progress and see how I'm doing in my annual NFL picks that I did in The Grand Return...and OH MY GOD I PICKED HOUSTON TO GO TO THE SUPER BOWL!
Houston what in the hell happened to you?! Did Matt Schaub age ten years in some horrible science experiment gone wrong? He got benched for a guy named Case. His name is Case, you know, the thing you put stuff in? Where's my reading glasses? They're in the case, for crying out loud. Things are so bad down there in Houston that Gary Kubiak suffered a warning stroke when his team had a lead in a game! Which, by the way, scares the ever-loving crap out of me because apparently the warning for a stroke is a stroke. Screw you, human body.
At least Seattle is doing really well. I can stand behind that pick like I did the Ravens last year. Houston is going all New Orleans 2012 on me. So do I break even?
Alright, let me wash myself clean of that epic bed crapping and make some fresh marks for some Thanksgiving 2013 picks! Speaking of Marks and Thanksgiving, today is actually the one year anniversary of the all-time worst play in NFL history, the Butt Fumble. Mark Sanchez is a pretty good sport about it though and actually gave me extra sprinkles on my sundae at Dairy Queen last week. He's finally found his calling.
On to the picks!
PACKERS at LIONS: Hmm the opener is a divisional game in a division that's wide open for anybody not in the city of Minnesota...I'm intrigued. I might have to turn off the Westminster Dog Show off a little early for this one. Hopefully Aaron Rodgers returns to the field for this game or obviously the luster is a little less than perfect but quite honestly I think the edge is still slightly with the home team. They have Calvin Johnson, nicknamed Megatron, but he might really be a robot...in disguise. The man is a beast and will not be stopped by anything short of a mugging and even then you better have a gun. I think we're in store for a shoot-out with an early decision to kick a field goal being the difference maker. DETROIT over GREEN BAY 31-28.
RAIDERS at COWBOYS: And time to go back and watch the dog show. I'm kidding, but seriously, Oakland still fields a professional team? They haven't been relegated to the Arena League yet? Here's what I think: it's Thanksgiving, the Cowboys have home-field advantage, and the Raiders don't have Bo Jackson anymore. Yet the 'Boys are quite the enigma, aren't they? They always drop a few clunkers and head-scratchers every few weeks or so. I don't blame Tony Romo though because that defense has not looked good with Monte Kiffin at the helm. I think Ol' Kiff should walk away after this year and go find a cocoon somewhere. DALLAS over OAKLAND 35-17.
STEELERS at RAVENS: Boy this game looked compelling at the beginning of the year but now you can go ahead and blame it on the Tryptophan and nod off a little early. Watching Big Ben carry around all that dead-weight makes me tired anyways. Baltimore is projectedly bad but not as bad as Pittsburgh because they have at least more than one guy who hasn't entirely given up. Defense reigns supreme in this one and the birds take it. BALTIMORE over PITTSBURGH 17-9.
Makes you not even want to watch now, right? Eh, I'll still tune in. Gives me something to do. Miami still prefers to take their craps in the Obscurity Toilet, I've been on the David Price Trade Watch for about two weeks now, and my fantasy football team is hanging on by a short and curly. Only UCF is making me proud now to set me up for the total annihilation they will receive in whatever BCS bowl they get. Happy thoughts, right?
Kids, enjoy your parade, enjoy your dog show, enjoy your football games, and have a happy Thanksgiving!
Of course they all MATTER but now we're starting to separate the cream from whatever else is in the same mixture as cream...the goop I guess. Is it goop? Goop has to be something because I know it's a word.
Anyways, I think this would be as good as a time as any to check in on my progress and see how I'm doing in my annual NFL picks that I did in The Grand Return...and OH MY GOD I PICKED HOUSTON TO GO TO THE SUPER BOWL!
Houston what in the hell happened to you?! Did Matt Schaub age ten years in some horrible science experiment gone wrong? He got benched for a guy named Case. His name is Case, you know, the thing you put stuff in? Where's my reading glasses? They're in the case, for crying out loud. Things are so bad down there in Houston that Gary Kubiak suffered a warning stroke when his team had a lead in a game! Which, by the way, scares the ever-loving crap out of me because apparently the warning for a stroke is a stroke. Screw you, human body.
At least Seattle is doing really well. I can stand behind that pick like I did the Ravens last year. Houston is going all New Orleans 2012 on me. So do I break even?
Alright, let me wash myself clean of that epic bed crapping and make some fresh marks for some Thanksgiving 2013 picks! Speaking of Marks and Thanksgiving, today is actually the one year anniversary of the all-time worst play in NFL history, the Butt Fumble. Mark Sanchez is a pretty good sport about it though and actually gave me extra sprinkles on my sundae at Dairy Queen last week. He's finally found his calling.
On to the picks!
PACKERS at LIONS: Hmm the opener is a divisional game in a division that's wide open for anybody not in the city of Minnesota...I'm intrigued. I might have to turn off the Westminster Dog Show off a little early for this one. Hopefully Aaron Rodgers returns to the field for this game or obviously the luster is a little less than perfect but quite honestly I think the edge is still slightly with the home team. They have Calvin Johnson, nicknamed Megatron, but he might really be a robot...in disguise. The man is a beast and will not be stopped by anything short of a mugging and even then you better have a gun. I think we're in store for a shoot-out with an early decision to kick a field goal being the difference maker. DETROIT over GREEN BAY 31-28.
RAIDERS at COWBOYS: And time to go back and watch the dog show. I'm kidding, but seriously, Oakland still fields a professional team? They haven't been relegated to the Arena League yet? Here's what I think: it's Thanksgiving, the Cowboys have home-field advantage, and the Raiders don't have Bo Jackson anymore. Yet the 'Boys are quite the enigma, aren't they? They always drop a few clunkers and head-scratchers every few weeks or so. I don't blame Tony Romo though because that defense has not looked good with Monte Kiffin at the helm. I think Ol' Kiff should walk away after this year and go find a cocoon somewhere. DALLAS over OAKLAND 35-17.
STEELERS at RAVENS: Boy this game looked compelling at the beginning of the year but now you can go ahead and blame it on the Tryptophan and nod off a little early. Watching Big Ben carry around all that dead-weight makes me tired anyways. Baltimore is projectedly bad but not as bad as Pittsburgh because they have at least more than one guy who hasn't entirely given up. Defense reigns supreme in this one and the birds take it. BALTIMORE over PITTSBURGH 17-9.
Makes you not even want to watch now, right? Eh, I'll still tune in. Gives me something to do. Miami still prefers to take their craps in the Obscurity Toilet, I've been on the David Price Trade Watch for about two weeks now, and my fantasy football team is hanging on by a short and curly. Only UCF is making me proud now to set me up for the total annihilation they will receive in whatever BCS bowl they get. Happy thoughts, right?
Kids, enjoy your parade, enjoy your dog show, enjoy your football games, and have a happy Thanksgiving!
Tuesday, November 5, 2013
Bully League
When I woke up this morning and shimmied on my trousers and started to prepare for the daily toil like the rest of the waking world a single thought crept up on my brain: Man, wouldn't it be great not to be a Miami Dolphins fan right now?
I feel like anything associated with the Miami Dolphins right now is one giant piss stain and for once my ire isn't directed at X's and O's and wins and losses. I'm pissed at Richie Incognito, I'm pissed at Miami's coaches, and I'm so pissed with the 'NFL Powers That Be' that it's starting to stain!
First off, is something I've already covered, and that's the NFL is archaic. They're running a young man's game in a modern world and they're friggin' dinosaurs! To put things short and simple it's 2013 and the NFL is just now investigating a possible link between a sport where people get their heads bashed in and long-term concussion symptoms. They're not exactly 'with it' these days.
The NFL likes to use words like 'fraternity' and 'old school' and 'brotherhood' and it's all bullshit rhetoric for "we're a bunch of cavemen that refuse to change". And those roots are so deep that people today are AFRAID to change those ways until something like the Dolphins story breaks.
There's room for hazing in the NFL. Christ, most of today's rookies are getting paid more than ten-year veterans. Give them a bad haircut, make them carry your pads, and give them cold showers. That's all clean and good. But when a veritable psychopath is leaving you threatening voicemails and extorting you for $15K I think it's time to pull the plug on the whole ordeal.
And that's exactly what Richie Incognito did to Jonathan Martin. He threatened him, he extorted him, and he took away his feeling of safety at his own clubhouse. Where's your brotherhood now?
Martin is a Stanford grad, a smart young man, playing a position on the offensive line where most smart young men thrive in the NFL. He's a thinker. Incognito is both an explosive and implosive atomic bomb. He has no regard for safety, including his own, and probably doesn't fear anything except for maybe having to read a few books. He is a thug and a bruiser and a perfect offensive lineman and that's why the Dolphins had him on their team. Sometimes you want to win so bad that you sacrifice little things like ethics and human decency and maybe just maybe this psychopath will learn how to bottle it up and harness his energy protecting Ryan Tannehill. And the path to Hell is paved with good intentions.
And wouldn't you know it, Martin eventually had enough and reached his breaking point and decided that he didn't want to go to work anymore. Who knows what the final straw was but if you threaten to slap my momma in the face I'm going to have a few issues with you. Plus, that's how you determine how tough you are, right? Slapping people's moms? Makes sense to me.
Now the Dolphins are in crisis mode. Incognito has been "suspended" and the team is reaching out to Martin and blah blah blah. It doesn't matter. This didn't start with Incognito and it won't end with him. This is a much bigger problem than one guy and it's not going to get any better until some clear thinking individuals take charge of the NFL and make them realize that we no longer do business in the stone age.
I feel for Martin. He doesn't deserve any of this and he's thrust right in the middle by one crazy guy and a long line of brutality.
The good thing about dinosaurs though is that they eventually die out and we put their bones in museums and tell our children, "Look Johnny, this is a stegosaurus...they had walnut-sized brains."
I feel like anything associated with the Miami Dolphins right now is one giant piss stain and for once my ire isn't directed at X's and O's and wins and losses. I'm pissed at Richie Incognito, I'm pissed at Miami's coaches, and I'm so pissed with the 'NFL Powers That Be' that it's starting to stain!
First off, is something I've already covered, and that's the NFL is archaic. They're running a young man's game in a modern world and they're friggin' dinosaurs! To put things short and simple it's 2013 and the NFL is just now investigating a possible link between a sport where people get their heads bashed in and long-term concussion symptoms. They're not exactly 'with it' these days.
The NFL likes to use words like 'fraternity' and 'old school' and 'brotherhood' and it's all bullshit rhetoric for "we're a bunch of cavemen that refuse to change". And those roots are so deep that people today are AFRAID to change those ways until something like the Dolphins story breaks.
There's room for hazing in the NFL. Christ, most of today's rookies are getting paid more than ten-year veterans. Give them a bad haircut, make them carry your pads, and give them cold showers. That's all clean and good. But when a veritable psychopath is leaving you threatening voicemails and extorting you for $15K I think it's time to pull the plug on the whole ordeal.
And that's exactly what Richie Incognito did to Jonathan Martin. He threatened him, he extorted him, and he took away his feeling of safety at his own clubhouse. Where's your brotherhood now?
Martin is a Stanford grad, a smart young man, playing a position on the offensive line where most smart young men thrive in the NFL. He's a thinker. Incognito is both an explosive and implosive atomic bomb. He has no regard for safety, including his own, and probably doesn't fear anything except for maybe having to read a few books. He is a thug and a bruiser and a perfect offensive lineman and that's why the Dolphins had him on their team. Sometimes you want to win so bad that you sacrifice little things like ethics and human decency and maybe just maybe this psychopath will learn how to bottle it up and harness his energy protecting Ryan Tannehill. And the path to Hell is paved with good intentions.
And wouldn't you know it, Martin eventually had enough and reached his breaking point and decided that he didn't want to go to work anymore. Who knows what the final straw was but if you threaten to slap my momma in the face I'm going to have a few issues with you. Plus, that's how you determine how tough you are, right? Slapping people's moms? Makes sense to me.
Now the Dolphins are in crisis mode. Incognito has been "suspended" and the team is reaching out to Martin and blah blah blah. It doesn't matter. This didn't start with Incognito and it won't end with him. This is a much bigger problem than one guy and it's not going to get any better until some clear thinking individuals take charge of the NFL and make them realize that we no longer do business in the stone age.
I feel for Martin. He doesn't deserve any of this and he's thrust right in the middle by one crazy guy and a long line of brutality.
The good thing about dinosaurs though is that they eventually die out and we put their bones in museums and tell our children, "Look Johnny, this is a stegosaurus...they had walnut-sized brains."
Saturday, October 19, 2013
You CAN Finish!
Kids, I know that most of you that read this blog know exactly who I am and continue to read this blog for that reason and I thank you from the bottom of my heart. But would you believe there are those that read it simply for the material? I know, it blows my mind too.
I'm looking at you, Latvia.
So, you sons and daughters of the great nation (republic? city-state? tribe?...eh...not worth it) of Latvia, let me give you some very brief background information. I owe you at least the tip of the iceberg...just the tip.
When I was a strapping young lad I attended the University of Central Florida for several reasons: for starters I wanted to better myself, secondly they seemed very proactive in bettering themselves, and finally they had an on-campus Wendy's. I love Wendy's. I don't even give a crap that their hamburgers are square because they are absolutely delicious and they should totally make a Frosty dipping sauce for their chicken nuggets so I can just board myself up in a room with hundreds of them.
Anyways, and it should stand to mention, that this was just a little over ten years ago. My direction was clear: I hated math, I hated "hands on" material, and computer science was out the window when I realized that Minesweeper was not a cool game.
I'm a writer, through and through, and I've always grown up with the "me talk pretty one day" attitude so I leaned towards what I could speak through and that was always obvious for this 115 lb. white kid: Sports.
I joined the journalism program, started writing for the school paper, and started getting sweet gigs like women's tennis and the track and field team. But I embraced it. I had no choice.
Plus, the football team wasn't exactly tearing it up. It wasn't, what we would say, the hot beat. They sucked. And they sucked. And then they sucked some more. Basically they were terrible.
*Quick side note: For those of you that read this that didn't attend UCF and don't have any clue what Spirit Splash is, well it's basically this great opportunity for students to jump around our huge central fountain but it's also a pep rally for the football team. My first Spirit Splash was with Mike Kruczek (pronounced croo-check) and despite starting horribly that year he promised he would win against (insert team here). He didn't, and he also didn't finish the season employed by UCF. Enter interim coach to finish the season and then enter George O'Leary the next year.
O'Leary to me has always been an enigma. He was in the NFL as an assistant, and then was supposed to coach the Notre Dame Fighting Irish, but he "mistakenly" "wrote" "he" "graduated" with "a" "masters" when he really didn't. So he funneled down to UCF.
"Great. Our new head coach of our shitty football team is a liar. That's fitting." - Me, circa 2004
O'Leary did what he could the first couple of years and then he found the age-old response to playing good football: get a running game and a defense and the rest just falls into your hands. In 2007, my last year at UCF, Kevin Smith tore off and became the second-leading rusher of all-time behind some guy named Barry Sanders. We now had our own on-campus stadium, we almost beat Texas, and we were wrecking havoc in the Conference USA (and the collective just sighed and said "yeah, that's a tough conference!" and my response to that is building blocks!).
That's our thing, though. If you were a big name school, or ranked, we would show up and make it a great game but we would inevitably bow out and lose. And that's how it happened each and every time and every single time it happened I was on the edge of my seat.
For the last seven years, I have had nothing to do with the UCF newspaper but I can't help but think back to my days there and just wonder what the guy reporting on the football team was going through with each heartbreaking loss.
I know what I was going through. Almost...almost...and nothing. How many times can you get gut-punched without throwing up? I've thrown up like six times.
Well kids, I wrote all that, to get to this. UCF marched their proud, underdog asses into Louisville tonight to take on the eighth ranked team in the nation and a quarterback that is a favorite for the Heisman Trophy.
And with five seconds left on the clock, Teddy Bridgewater's Hail Mary hit the dirt and I hung my head. I didn't hang my head in shame or even in disbelief--I hung my head because I felt I might cry. They did it. They actually did it. They finally won the game that they couldn't for as long as I can remember. UCF was always the bridesmaid and never the bride--and it happened for so long that I grew a callus on my heart. Yet, I must admit, if that damn ball found it's way into the hands of a Cardinal I might have driven to Kentucky just to burn the whole damn state down. Take that, flatheads.
This is going to sound incredibly corny but I need to increase my female audience. I went to UCF to better myself with a dream in my head and I sit here today, totally different, but with that same dream. Dammit, I want to inspire, and if I can't inspire, I want to make you cry, and if I can't make you cry, then...I guess I'll settle for making you laugh.
UCF's win tonight wasn't just a win for one football team. It was a win for all the alumni, it was a win for all their fans, it was a win for people like me, and it was also a win for the lucky bastard that gets to write about this in the Central Florida Future.
I'm jealous and proud at the same time and I couldn't be happier.
I'm looking at you, Latvia.
So, you sons and daughters of the great nation (republic? city-state? tribe?...eh...not worth it) of Latvia, let me give you some very brief background information. I owe you at least the tip of the iceberg...just the tip.
When I was a strapping young lad I attended the University of Central Florida for several reasons: for starters I wanted to better myself, secondly they seemed very proactive in bettering themselves, and finally they had an on-campus Wendy's. I love Wendy's. I don't even give a crap that their hamburgers are square because they are absolutely delicious and they should totally make a Frosty dipping sauce for their chicken nuggets so I can just board myself up in a room with hundreds of them.
Anyways, and it should stand to mention, that this was just a little over ten years ago. My direction was clear: I hated math, I hated "hands on" material, and computer science was out the window when I realized that Minesweeper was not a cool game.
I'm a writer, through and through, and I've always grown up with the "me talk pretty one day" attitude so I leaned towards what I could speak through and that was always obvious for this 115 lb. white kid: Sports.
I joined the journalism program, started writing for the school paper, and started getting sweet gigs like women's tennis and the track and field team. But I embraced it. I had no choice.
Plus, the football team wasn't exactly tearing it up. It wasn't, what we would say, the hot beat. They sucked. And they sucked. And then they sucked some more. Basically they were terrible.
*Quick side note: For those of you that read this that didn't attend UCF and don't have any clue what Spirit Splash is, well it's basically this great opportunity for students to jump around our huge central fountain but it's also a pep rally for the football team. My first Spirit Splash was with Mike Kruczek (pronounced croo-check) and despite starting horribly that year he promised he would win against (insert team here). He didn't, and he also didn't finish the season employed by UCF. Enter interim coach to finish the season and then enter George O'Leary the next year.
O'Leary to me has always been an enigma. He was in the NFL as an assistant, and then was supposed to coach the Notre Dame Fighting Irish, but he "mistakenly" "wrote" "he" "graduated" with "a" "masters" when he really didn't. So he funneled down to UCF.
"Great. Our new head coach of our shitty football team is a liar. That's fitting." - Me, circa 2004
O'Leary did what he could the first couple of years and then he found the age-old response to playing good football: get a running game and a defense and the rest just falls into your hands. In 2007, my last year at UCF, Kevin Smith tore off and became the second-leading rusher of all-time behind some guy named Barry Sanders. We now had our own on-campus stadium, we almost beat Texas, and we were wrecking havoc in the Conference USA (and the collective just sighed and said "yeah, that's a tough conference!" and my response to that is building blocks!).
That's our thing, though. If you were a big name school, or ranked, we would show up and make it a great game but we would inevitably bow out and lose. And that's how it happened each and every time and every single time it happened I was on the edge of my seat.
For the last seven years, I have had nothing to do with the UCF newspaper but I can't help but think back to my days there and just wonder what the guy reporting on the football team was going through with each heartbreaking loss.
I know what I was going through. Almost...almost...and nothing. How many times can you get gut-punched without throwing up? I've thrown up like six times.
Well kids, I wrote all that, to get to this. UCF marched their proud, underdog asses into Louisville tonight to take on the eighth ranked team in the nation and a quarterback that is a favorite for the Heisman Trophy.
And with five seconds left on the clock, Teddy Bridgewater's Hail Mary hit the dirt and I hung my head. I didn't hang my head in shame or even in disbelief--I hung my head because I felt I might cry. They did it. They actually did it. They finally won the game that they couldn't for as long as I can remember. UCF was always the bridesmaid and never the bride--and it happened for so long that I grew a callus on my heart. Yet, I must admit, if that damn ball found it's way into the hands of a Cardinal I might have driven to Kentucky just to burn the whole damn state down. Take that, flatheads.
This is going to sound incredibly corny but I need to increase my female audience. I went to UCF to better myself with a dream in my head and I sit here today, totally different, but with that same dream. Dammit, I want to inspire, and if I can't inspire, I want to make you cry, and if I can't make you cry, then...I guess I'll settle for making you laugh.
UCF's win tonight wasn't just a win for one football team. It was a win for all the alumni, it was a win for all their fans, it was a win for people like me, and it was also a win for the lucky bastard that gets to write about this in the Central Florida Future.
I'm jealous and proud at the same time and I couldn't be happier.
Monday, September 30, 2013
Let's Play Extras
I very rarely write about something before it happens and that's mostly because I'm better at reporting than I am at speculation.
But tonight, kids, the Tampa Bay Rays will play an extra game to determine who gets to punch their ticket to the post-season between them and the Texas Rangers.
And this scares the literal crap out of me--seriously, I just pooped.
All pants-crapping aside, it's moments like these that are perfect microcosms for why sports are great and incredibly brutal at the same time. Even if you aren't a baseball fan--or even a sports fan--imagine the one thing that you've worked towards for the better part of the year coming down to one, JUST ONE, pivotal moment and if you blow it then that's it. Better luck next year, kids.
If you screw up and lose it there's this overwhelming feel of everything you've just done has been for naught. Then comes the scrutinizing over "If I just did this one thing differently then maybe we wouldn't have even been here in the first place." It's absolutely agonizing.
But if you win...there's no greater feeling. It's the exact opposite with everything you've worked towards coming into fruition. You buy in. It was all worth it.
And as far as baseball goes I live vicariously through the Tampa Bay Rays and I know for a fact that others do the same.
I played baseball for a summer once, many moons ago, and there were two resounding moments that continually haunt me and they both happened at first base. For one, I hated the third baseman. He had a terrible arm and could never get the ball across the infield to me without skipping it along the ground and that for me was a nightmare because I couldn't play the hop to save my life. All I managed to do was get my glove down in time to form a little ramp for the ball to travel up my arm and pop me in the face. This was obviously the third baseman's fault.
Secondly, I can remember the pitcher walking off the mound towards first base while I had the ball waiting for me to throw it back to him only he kept getting closer and closer to me and for some reason I panicked thinking that if I threw him the ball like I normally do I would accidentally zing it right at his face. You know, because being thirteen and 80 pounds soaking wet, I had a canon for an arm that even a juiced up Roger Clemens was jealous of. Instead of just taking a little something off and just throwing it overhand per usual I decided to lob it underhand and very pathetically utter this "unnngggh" sound as I did it too. As soon as I did it I thought some guy would come over and take my glove and hat and say, "It's over, son." And he had every right.
So I decided that it was best to leave it to the professionals and since 1998 my professionals have been the Tampa Bay (Devil) Rays. I mean, Hell I can best relate to them: we both don't have very much money and we tell people we're from Tampa when really it's more like St. Petersburg.
The reality of it all? The Rays have to beat the Texas Rangers tonight, in Texas, for the right to face the Cleveland Indians, in Cleveland, for the right to play the Boston Red Sox, in Boston. A long shot? Of course it is. It's hard to play that many 'must win games' and expect to come out on top but, hey, I'm a student of the NCAA basketball tournament and the NFL playoffs. All of those are 'must win games' too and somebody comes out on top. Why not the Rays?
I might be crazy--in fact I probably am--but being born in New York and being asked why I'm not a Yankees fan is an easy answer for me. It's because the Rays are the good guys.
Look, I'm not asking you to be a Rays fan, or a baseball fan, or even a sports fan. I'm simply asking you to recognize what you really want in life and understand that some people want that from sports. I have watched and reported on sports for a long time and it's the most human thing I've ever seen. People stake their lives, their good name, and their entire future on a game. Why? Well they do it for you. And for me. And for themselves. It's a strange, strange thing but it's incredibly beautiful and heart breaking. Isn't that human enough for you?
So tonight I'll watch my Rays take on the Rangers with eager eyes while I simultaneously switch over to the Dolphins-Saints Monday Night Football game and maybe I'll have a really good night and maybe I'll have a really bad night. That's the whole point. All I know is that I'm excited about something that I have absolutely no control over and I hope you have something like that in your life.
But tonight, kids, the Tampa Bay Rays will play an extra game to determine who gets to punch their ticket to the post-season between them and the Texas Rangers.
And this scares the literal crap out of me--seriously, I just pooped.
All pants-crapping aside, it's moments like these that are perfect microcosms for why sports are great and incredibly brutal at the same time. Even if you aren't a baseball fan--or even a sports fan--imagine the one thing that you've worked towards for the better part of the year coming down to one, JUST ONE, pivotal moment and if you blow it then that's it. Better luck next year, kids.
If you screw up and lose it there's this overwhelming feel of everything you've just done has been for naught. Then comes the scrutinizing over "If I just did this one thing differently then maybe we wouldn't have even been here in the first place." It's absolutely agonizing.
But if you win...there's no greater feeling. It's the exact opposite with everything you've worked towards coming into fruition. You buy in. It was all worth it.
And as far as baseball goes I live vicariously through the Tampa Bay Rays and I know for a fact that others do the same.
I played baseball for a summer once, many moons ago, and there were two resounding moments that continually haunt me and they both happened at first base. For one, I hated the third baseman. He had a terrible arm and could never get the ball across the infield to me without skipping it along the ground and that for me was a nightmare because I couldn't play the hop to save my life. All I managed to do was get my glove down in time to form a little ramp for the ball to travel up my arm and pop me in the face. This was obviously the third baseman's fault.
Secondly, I can remember the pitcher walking off the mound towards first base while I had the ball waiting for me to throw it back to him only he kept getting closer and closer to me and for some reason I panicked thinking that if I threw him the ball like I normally do I would accidentally zing it right at his face. You know, because being thirteen and 80 pounds soaking wet, I had a canon for an arm that even a juiced up Roger Clemens was jealous of. Instead of just taking a little something off and just throwing it overhand per usual I decided to lob it underhand and very pathetically utter this "unnngggh" sound as I did it too. As soon as I did it I thought some guy would come over and take my glove and hat and say, "It's over, son." And he had every right.
So I decided that it was best to leave it to the professionals and since 1998 my professionals have been the Tampa Bay (Devil) Rays. I mean, Hell I can best relate to them: we both don't have very much money and we tell people we're from Tampa when really it's more like St. Petersburg.
The reality of it all? The Rays have to beat the Texas Rangers tonight, in Texas, for the right to face the Cleveland Indians, in Cleveland, for the right to play the Boston Red Sox, in Boston. A long shot? Of course it is. It's hard to play that many 'must win games' and expect to come out on top but, hey, I'm a student of the NCAA basketball tournament and the NFL playoffs. All of those are 'must win games' too and somebody comes out on top. Why not the Rays?
I might be crazy--in fact I probably am--but being born in New York and being asked why I'm not a Yankees fan is an easy answer for me. It's because the Rays are the good guys.
Look, I'm not asking you to be a Rays fan, or a baseball fan, or even a sports fan. I'm simply asking you to recognize what you really want in life and understand that some people want that from sports. I have watched and reported on sports for a long time and it's the most human thing I've ever seen. People stake their lives, their good name, and their entire future on a game. Why? Well they do it for you. And for me. And for themselves. It's a strange, strange thing but it's incredibly beautiful and heart breaking. Isn't that human enough for you?
So tonight I'll watch my Rays take on the Rangers with eager eyes while I simultaneously switch over to the Dolphins-Saints Monday Night Football game and maybe I'll have a really good night and maybe I'll have a really bad night. That's the whole point. All I know is that I'm excited about something that I have absolutely no control over and I hope you have something like that in your life.
Monday, September 23, 2013
Water Cooler Musings
It's been eleven years since the Miami Dolphins have started 3-0 so you'll have to bear with me for one moment...okay...let's move on.
What? You thought this would be a giant love-fest over the Miami Dolphins? Don't get me wrong--I couldn't be prouder and for a long, long time it's in the offense more than the defense. My little Fuzzby, Ryan Tannehill, is growing up and dare I say trying to reach Furby status. I'm proud of his composure, I'm proud of his ability to lead game-winning drives in perilous situations but the thing that I'm most proud of is that...well...if Miami has the ball and is one score away from winning it I officially have full faith in my little Fuzzby. I trust him to get it done. I am officially off of "here's where we blow it" status.
But I'm not on "WOOO! SUPER BOWL TIME! XOXOXOXOXO! GO DOLPHINS!"
And hopefully I'll never be that guy but I'm a grounded individual and it's a tough sport we're playing here and it's going to get tougher before it gets easier. What have the Dolphins achieved in starting 3-0? Well for one, they've made me tremendously happy. I haven't been excited like this for football in over a decade. But that's where it ends for me. I'm excited. Miami heads to New Orleans next Monday night for our first national stage game in over a year in enemy territory against the also undefeated Saints. This is a tough game here for the 'Phins. Win this and then I'll start using the Studly Pastures for our official Super Bowl or Bust campaign.
Speaking of things that haven't happened in a long, long time...the Kansas City Chiefs are also undefeated at 3-0! I don't think Denver and New England are nervous just quite yet but they are definitely scratching their heads and thinking, "What? No cake walk this year?" Nope.
I like Alex Smith. He was drafted No.1 overall in an 'eh' draft year and never seemed to really be accepted by his team even though he started doing 'eh' and then grew into a consistent player. Then he got hurt and never retained his job because Jim Harbaugh is still searching for his next Andrew Luck. So he got traded to the Chiefs, the 'worst' team in the league last year (Jacksonville) and now he's got this awesome 'Screw you, I'll show you all!' attitude and it's paired with Andy Reid's 'Screw you, I'll just stand here with the same expression on my face' and it appears to be working so far in Kansas City.
And now here's where I completely disavow the Cleveland Browns as an NFL franchise.
Are you kidding me? What's your deal? Do you like completely tormenting your fan-base year after excruciating year?
Let's step back for a second: last year you drafted Trent Richardson with the third overall pick and then you traded back into the first round to get Brandon Weeden. I never liked the Weeden pick, considering he's almost two years older than me and got to throw passes to Dez Bryant in college (making his numbers look a lot better) but you thought he was your saving grace, right? Well things didn't turn out so well last year and you brought in a new regime this year. They don't think Weeden is the answer either so they want to stockpile some draft picks and move up and be able to take one of the college quarterbacks coming out this year (the Teddy Bridgewaters and Johnny Manziels of the world). So...your solution was to trade Trent Richardson to the Indianapolis Colts.
Richardson had a very productive year last year but at the very least was your most dynamic playmaker on offense. The CEO of the Browns who doesn't deserve to have his name listed here came on after the trade and said that the Browns were looking to be successful in the future...by trading their best weapon.
Okay, sure, let's assume they were actually trying to get better like he says by getting the Colts' first round draft pick. Indianapolis was a playoff team last year and should at least contend for a spot this year. That puts their pick at around No. 23 to about No. 25. Cleveland, hopeless as all Hell, could have a top five draft pick if they keep losing.
But there it is, kids, they can't even LOSE correctly!
If you are telling your fanbase that you are laying down the rest of the 2013 season to make for a better future then why did you go and defeat the hapless Minnesota Adrian Peterson's? Couldn't you have beaten them and still retained Trent Richardson?
That's a rhetorical question, Cleveland, and since you don't know what that word means I'll just spare you and say, YES, you could have won that game, kept Trent Richardson, and still been shitty enough to get a top five draft pick to get one of those quarterbacks. Now we're just running in circles chasing our own asses.
Well that's it for now, kids, gotta save some stuff for later to stay relevant (oxymoron). By the way, if the line for the Dolphins-Saints game is Saints +7 or above, put your money on the 'Phins.
What? You thought this would be a giant love-fest over the Miami Dolphins? Don't get me wrong--I couldn't be prouder and for a long, long time it's in the offense more than the defense. My little Fuzzby, Ryan Tannehill, is growing up and dare I say trying to reach Furby status. I'm proud of his composure, I'm proud of his ability to lead game-winning drives in perilous situations but the thing that I'm most proud of is that...well...if Miami has the ball and is one score away from winning it I officially have full faith in my little Fuzzby. I trust him to get it done. I am officially off of "here's where we blow it" status.
But I'm not on "WOOO! SUPER BOWL TIME! XOXOXOXOXO! GO DOLPHINS!"
And hopefully I'll never be that guy but I'm a grounded individual and it's a tough sport we're playing here and it's going to get tougher before it gets easier. What have the Dolphins achieved in starting 3-0? Well for one, they've made me tremendously happy. I haven't been excited like this for football in over a decade. But that's where it ends for me. I'm excited. Miami heads to New Orleans next Monday night for our first national stage game in over a year in enemy territory against the also undefeated Saints. This is a tough game here for the 'Phins. Win this and then I'll start using the Studly Pastures for our official Super Bowl or Bust campaign.
Speaking of things that haven't happened in a long, long time...the Kansas City Chiefs are also undefeated at 3-0! I don't think Denver and New England are nervous just quite yet but they are definitely scratching their heads and thinking, "What? No cake walk this year?" Nope.
I like Alex Smith. He was drafted No.1 overall in an 'eh' draft year and never seemed to really be accepted by his team even though he started doing 'eh' and then grew into a consistent player. Then he got hurt and never retained his job because Jim Harbaugh is still searching for his next Andrew Luck. So he got traded to the Chiefs, the 'worst' team in the league last year (Jacksonville) and now he's got this awesome 'Screw you, I'll show you all!' attitude and it's paired with Andy Reid's 'Screw you, I'll just stand here with the same expression on my face' and it appears to be working so far in Kansas City.
And now here's where I completely disavow the Cleveland Browns as an NFL franchise.
Are you kidding me? What's your deal? Do you like completely tormenting your fan-base year after excruciating year?
Let's step back for a second: last year you drafted Trent Richardson with the third overall pick and then you traded back into the first round to get Brandon Weeden. I never liked the Weeden pick, considering he's almost two years older than me and got to throw passes to Dez Bryant in college (making his numbers look a lot better) but you thought he was your saving grace, right? Well things didn't turn out so well last year and you brought in a new regime this year. They don't think Weeden is the answer either so they want to stockpile some draft picks and move up and be able to take one of the college quarterbacks coming out this year (the Teddy Bridgewaters and Johnny Manziels of the world). So...your solution was to trade Trent Richardson to the Indianapolis Colts.
Richardson had a very productive year last year but at the very least was your most dynamic playmaker on offense. The CEO of the Browns who doesn't deserve to have his name listed here came on after the trade and said that the Browns were looking to be successful in the future...by trading their best weapon.
Okay, sure, let's assume they were actually trying to get better like he says by getting the Colts' first round draft pick. Indianapolis was a playoff team last year and should at least contend for a spot this year. That puts their pick at around No. 23 to about No. 25. Cleveland, hopeless as all Hell, could have a top five draft pick if they keep losing.
But there it is, kids, they can't even LOSE correctly!
If you are telling your fanbase that you are laying down the rest of the 2013 season to make for a better future then why did you go and defeat the hapless Minnesota Adrian Peterson's? Couldn't you have beaten them and still retained Trent Richardson?
That's a rhetorical question, Cleveland, and since you don't know what that word means I'll just spare you and say, YES, you could have won that game, kept Trent Richardson, and still been shitty enough to get a top five draft pick to get one of those quarterbacks. Now we're just running in circles chasing our own asses.
Well that's it for now, kids, gotta save some stuff for later to stay relevant (oxymoron). By the way, if the line for the Dolphins-Saints game is Saints +7 or above, put your money on the 'Phins.
Thursday, September 5, 2013
The Grand Return
It's back, kids!
The NFL kicks off it's regular season this evening in a rematch of divisional playoff teams from a year ago: the Baltimore Ravens and the Denver Broncos. While this game probably won't live up to the instant classic that it was last year (nor does it have nearly as many implications) it's still good to see the boys back on the field.
By the way, Baltimore is playing AT Denver, becoming the first reigning Super Bowl champion to start on the road since the 2003 Tampa Bay Buccaneers and that was mostly because less people give a crap about the Tampa Bay Buccaneers than they do about probiotics. Stop peddling me your dirty bacteria pills, Erin Andrews, they might affect the tapeworm I purposely swallowed. It's bikini season.
The Ravens have the luxury of starting on the road because the Baltimore Orioles are supreme assholes and think that their precious regular season baseball game is more important than the reigning Super Bowl champions returning to the field. The Orioles last won the World Series in 1983 which was thirty friggin' years ago. That means people like Miley Cyrus, Justin Bieber, Selena Gomez, and every girl I've ever dated has never seen the Baltimore Orioles win the World Series. But you know what they have seen? The Baltimore Ravens win TWO Super Bowls! I wish the two commissioners would get together and make the Orioles play their game at four in the morning, with no lights on, and the infield is made of cow manure. It's only fair.
Last year I made some bold predictions like how Andrew Luck would win Rookie of the Year and that it would be the New Orleans Saints and the Baltimore Ravens in the Super Bowl and I was exactly right about one of those things. If only I had actually said they would win it too...not sure why I stopped short of going all the way. I guess I take this thing way too seriously.
Well that's not going to be the case this year! I'm not taking this seriously at all! You have my solemn promise!
So let's go division by division and sort this whole thing out, shall we? What? Don't you have the stones to follow me?!
AFC NORTH: Hmmm...this is the division that the reigning champs are in but their roster looks a lot different than it did last year. Ray Lewis retired, Ed Reed went to the Texans, and Joe Flacco stole everybody else's salaries. So unless Flacco can lead the team in passing yards, touchdowns, receptions, tackles and punt returns, I don't see the Ravens winning the division. My pick is awarded to the Cincinnati Bengals! That's right, kids, the Bungles! Andy Dalton and AJ Green have a legitimate connection and now with James Harrison on defense, who is a veritable psychotic, I think the tigers have what it takes to claim the AFC North.
AFC SOUTH: This is going to be the Houston Texans division, for sure. Oh I'm sure Andrew Luck and the Indianapolis Colts will play their little oil-fueled hearts out but the cows are taking this one. Matt Schaub has very little hair left, they have a black guy named Arian, and Andre Johnson is about a year away from being "too old for this shit."
AFC EAST: Well this is the division that the Miami Dolphins play in and as a life-long fan and a true believer in them I have no choice but to pick against them. When you've loved something long enough you'll always go with the option to be surprised than to be disappointed because you really just can't go any lower. So if the Dolphins are out and the Bills and Jets are fielding starting quarterbacks that would be better suited making iced coffees at Starbucks then I have no choice but to hand it over to the freakin' New England Patriots...again. You win one more time Brady but heed my warning: this shall be the last year.
AFC WEST: I'm not going to go so far as to say that Denver will be the first team to lock up their division but I will go so far as to say that if they don't then something terrible has happened to Peyton "Forrest" Manning. The only way that the Broncos don't win this division is if Ol' Slack Jaw has his bionic neck short-circuit causing him not to be able to eat Oreos properly. Relax Mile High, this won't happen for Manning is my mortal enemy and he will continue to mock me at every turn. However, if it does by some miracle of Satan, then this division is up for grabs. Literally. They should toss a coin.
NFC NORTH: I don't trust the Bears without Urlacher...I really don't. Remember in Remember the Titans how the star linebacker finally learned acceptance of black people and then he went and got in a car accident and it paralyzed him but the team still went out and won the game regardless? Yeah it's not gonna be like that for Chicago. This division lies in the godforsaken wasteland of humanity in the northern end of Wisconsin in Green Bay! The Packers have Aaron Rodgers which is enough to say just like saying the Patriots have Tom Brady circa 2004-2005. They added a cool running back and still get to play the Detroit Lions and Minnesota Vikings twice a year. Go pack, go!
NFC SOUTH: I picked the Saints to go to the Super Bowl last year and they made me look like a tremendous ass. To make matters worse, Drew Brees broke Dan Marino's single season passing record all while on the road to missing the playoffs completely. I wish I could afford the kind of pillow that Drew Brees can that lets him sleep at night but it's probably made out of dodo bird feathers, the softest down known to man as far as you know. So, by reason of angst, I am taking the Atlanta Falcons because who gives a crap about the Tampa Bay Buccaneers and whatever other team is in this division.
NFC EAST: Oh sweet baby Jesus...the NFC East?! Sean Bean has a better shot at staying alive in things he is cast for than I do at picking the winner of the 'who barely makes it over .500 wins it' division. I can't pick the Cowboys because Tony Romo. I can't pick the Eagles because Michael Vick. So it's down between the Redskins and Giants. Well if recent history has taught me anything about coming back with a bionic knee then you are going to be a better player than you were before and the Redskins were the winners last year. Robert Griffin 3.0 will lead his team again to victory.
NFC WEST: This is tricky too but only because there are two teams that are actually capable of winning the division and I am of course talking about the Seattle Seahawks and the San Francisco 49ers. The Niners made it to the Super Bowl last year and almost pulled it out before they got Flacco'ed. I like the idea that the Niners have put forth and I like their coach. Jim Harbaugh is Rex Ryan if Rex Ryan never woke up one morning with some misplaced sense of self-worth. But I do not like Colin Kaepernick. He is quickly becoming one of those quarterbacks that just leave a bad taste in your mouth and it's probably because they haven't showered. I am going to go with Seattle for the West. They put forth a team a lot like the Niners but I think their defense is better suited to go against the other team and that will be the difference in this division.
AFC WILD CARDS: Baltimore and Indianapolis.
NFC WILD CARDS: New Orleans and San Francisco.
AFC CHAMPIONSHIP: Okay so now you know how I laid out exactly how the playoffs are going to shape out and now I am going to tell you who makes it to the championship game in each league. Do you like how I lead you by the hand there, you big dummy? If I was a good writer I would go back and delete all of this. I am taking the chalk in that I think Denver will reach the AFC Championship game. But I think that the Houston Texans are going to beat them. There's a damn good chance that this game will be played in Denver and that suits the Texans just fine because Baltimore showed the world last year that the Broncos are not invulnerable at home even in a cold ass game. I am making this pick for the same reason I picked Baltimore last year and that's because I think this is the last feasible year for them to get it done. Texans win over Denver 24-21
NFC CHAMPIONSHIP: I have Seattle already locked into this game. I think they beat out the Niners and I think they bury the Falcons. Now because I'm a sucker for high drama I think the team they will meet in the NFC Championship is the Green Bay Packers. How great would it be to have a rematch of the 'Hail Mary that never was' then right here in the Super Bowl deciding game? I think Russell Wilson and Aaron Rodgers go at it harder than a couple of pit bulls in Rosie O'Donnell's underwear drawer and you can do with that what you please. In the end, however, the birds prevail over the cheese heads. Seattle wins 34-31.
SUPER BOWL: Seattle beats Houston 28-17. How's that for predictions? I came down a long and twisted road to get to this point and if I'm right I am moving to Vegas. And per usual, if I am found to be wrong...well...at least I put myself out there, dammit!
The NFL kicks off it's regular season this evening in a rematch of divisional playoff teams from a year ago: the Baltimore Ravens and the Denver Broncos. While this game probably won't live up to the instant classic that it was last year (nor does it have nearly as many implications) it's still good to see the boys back on the field.
By the way, Baltimore is playing AT Denver, becoming the first reigning Super Bowl champion to start on the road since the 2003 Tampa Bay Buccaneers and that was mostly because less people give a crap about the Tampa Bay Buccaneers than they do about probiotics. Stop peddling me your dirty bacteria pills, Erin Andrews, they might affect the tapeworm I purposely swallowed. It's bikini season.
The Ravens have the luxury of starting on the road because the Baltimore Orioles are supreme assholes and think that their precious regular season baseball game is more important than the reigning Super Bowl champions returning to the field. The Orioles last won the World Series in 1983 which was thirty friggin' years ago. That means people like Miley Cyrus, Justin Bieber, Selena Gomez, and every girl I've ever dated has never seen the Baltimore Orioles win the World Series. But you know what they have seen? The Baltimore Ravens win TWO Super Bowls! I wish the two commissioners would get together and make the Orioles play their game at four in the morning, with no lights on, and the infield is made of cow manure. It's only fair.
Last year I made some bold predictions like how Andrew Luck would win Rookie of the Year and that it would be the New Orleans Saints and the Baltimore Ravens in the Super Bowl and I was exactly right about one of those things. If only I had actually said they would win it too...not sure why I stopped short of going all the way. I guess I take this thing way too seriously.
Well that's not going to be the case this year! I'm not taking this seriously at all! You have my solemn promise!
So let's go division by division and sort this whole thing out, shall we? What? Don't you have the stones to follow me?!
AFC NORTH: Hmmm...this is the division that the reigning champs are in but their roster looks a lot different than it did last year. Ray Lewis retired, Ed Reed went to the Texans, and Joe Flacco stole everybody else's salaries. So unless Flacco can lead the team in passing yards, touchdowns, receptions, tackles and punt returns, I don't see the Ravens winning the division. My pick is awarded to the Cincinnati Bengals! That's right, kids, the Bungles! Andy Dalton and AJ Green have a legitimate connection and now with James Harrison on defense, who is a veritable psychotic, I think the tigers have what it takes to claim the AFC North.
AFC SOUTH: This is going to be the Houston Texans division, for sure. Oh I'm sure Andrew Luck and the Indianapolis Colts will play their little oil-fueled hearts out but the cows are taking this one. Matt Schaub has very little hair left, they have a black guy named Arian, and Andre Johnson is about a year away from being "too old for this shit."
AFC EAST: Well this is the division that the Miami Dolphins play in and as a life-long fan and a true believer in them I have no choice but to pick against them. When you've loved something long enough you'll always go with the option to be surprised than to be disappointed because you really just can't go any lower. So if the Dolphins are out and the Bills and Jets are fielding starting quarterbacks that would be better suited making iced coffees at Starbucks then I have no choice but to hand it over to the freakin' New England Patriots...again. You win one more time Brady but heed my warning: this shall be the last year.
AFC WEST: I'm not going to go so far as to say that Denver will be the first team to lock up their division but I will go so far as to say that if they don't then something terrible has happened to Peyton "Forrest" Manning. The only way that the Broncos don't win this division is if Ol' Slack Jaw has his bionic neck short-circuit causing him not to be able to eat Oreos properly. Relax Mile High, this won't happen for Manning is my mortal enemy and he will continue to mock me at every turn. However, if it does by some miracle of Satan, then this division is up for grabs. Literally. They should toss a coin.
NFC NORTH: I don't trust the Bears without Urlacher...I really don't. Remember in Remember the Titans how the star linebacker finally learned acceptance of black people and then he went and got in a car accident and it paralyzed him but the team still went out and won the game regardless? Yeah it's not gonna be like that for Chicago. This division lies in the godforsaken wasteland of humanity in the northern end of Wisconsin in Green Bay! The Packers have Aaron Rodgers which is enough to say just like saying the Patriots have Tom Brady circa 2004-2005. They added a cool running back and still get to play the Detroit Lions and Minnesota Vikings twice a year. Go pack, go!
NFC SOUTH: I picked the Saints to go to the Super Bowl last year and they made me look like a tremendous ass. To make matters worse, Drew Brees broke Dan Marino's single season passing record all while on the road to missing the playoffs completely. I wish I could afford the kind of pillow that Drew Brees can that lets him sleep at night but it's probably made out of dodo bird feathers, the softest down known to man as far as you know. So, by reason of angst, I am taking the Atlanta Falcons because who gives a crap about the Tampa Bay Buccaneers and whatever other team is in this division.
NFC EAST: Oh sweet baby Jesus...the NFC East?! Sean Bean has a better shot at staying alive in things he is cast for than I do at picking the winner of the 'who barely makes it over .500 wins it' division. I can't pick the Cowboys because Tony Romo. I can't pick the Eagles because Michael Vick. So it's down between the Redskins and Giants. Well if recent history has taught me anything about coming back with a bionic knee then you are going to be a better player than you were before and the Redskins were the winners last year. Robert Griffin 3.0 will lead his team again to victory.
NFC WEST: This is tricky too but only because there are two teams that are actually capable of winning the division and I am of course talking about the Seattle Seahawks and the San Francisco 49ers. The Niners made it to the Super Bowl last year and almost pulled it out before they got Flacco'ed. I like the idea that the Niners have put forth and I like their coach. Jim Harbaugh is Rex Ryan if Rex Ryan never woke up one morning with some misplaced sense of self-worth. But I do not like Colin Kaepernick. He is quickly becoming one of those quarterbacks that just leave a bad taste in your mouth and it's probably because they haven't showered. I am going to go with Seattle for the West. They put forth a team a lot like the Niners but I think their defense is better suited to go against the other team and that will be the difference in this division.
AFC WILD CARDS: Baltimore and Indianapolis.
NFC WILD CARDS: New Orleans and San Francisco.
AFC CHAMPIONSHIP: Okay so now you know how I laid out exactly how the playoffs are going to shape out and now I am going to tell you who makes it to the championship game in each league. Do you like how I lead you by the hand there, you big dummy? If I was a good writer I would go back and delete all of this. I am taking the chalk in that I think Denver will reach the AFC Championship game. But I think that the Houston Texans are going to beat them. There's a damn good chance that this game will be played in Denver and that suits the Texans just fine because Baltimore showed the world last year that the Broncos are not invulnerable at home even in a cold ass game. I am making this pick for the same reason I picked Baltimore last year and that's because I think this is the last feasible year for them to get it done. Texans win over Denver 24-21
NFC CHAMPIONSHIP: I have Seattle already locked into this game. I think they beat out the Niners and I think they bury the Falcons. Now because I'm a sucker for high drama I think the team they will meet in the NFC Championship is the Green Bay Packers. How great would it be to have a rematch of the 'Hail Mary that never was' then right here in the Super Bowl deciding game? I think Russell Wilson and Aaron Rodgers go at it harder than a couple of pit bulls in Rosie O'Donnell's underwear drawer and you can do with that what you please. In the end, however, the birds prevail over the cheese heads. Seattle wins 34-31.
SUPER BOWL: Seattle beats Houston 28-17. How's that for predictions? I came down a long and twisted road to get to this point and if I'm right I am moving to Vegas. And per usual, if I am found to be wrong...well...at least I put myself out there, dammit!
Thursday, August 8, 2013
A For Effort, A-Fraud
I have mentioned Alex Rodriguez exactly twice in the entire four years that I've been blogging on a unicorn stud farm. The latest time was two months ago when the Biogenesis case first broke open and I declared that the hammer was about to fall. And, of course, the first time was just out of being completely done with Rodriguez as a person in your heroes suck.
And today I learned how to link to my own posts.
Well the hammer has fallen on ARod and MLB has suspended him for 211 games, effective today. Unfortunately this is one of those cases where due process sucks balls because the guy you are dealing with is such an incredible asshole that he doesn't even recognize when it's finally time to go quietly into the night. He's appealed the suspension and I guess because the arbitrator in the case has a firm stick up his ass because the appeal might not be decided until DECEMBER. Meanwhile, the jerk gets to play baseball games.
Okay, I get it, there's a lot to soak in. You have to find Tony Bosch, resident weasel and leak to the Biogenesis lab, a credible and worthy witness. That's going to be tough to do considering I wouldn't trust Bosch to make me a ham sandwich and have it not contain some sort of incriminating evidence. Then after all of that you have to wade through a mile of paperwork that may or may not be fabricated.
With that said, the man in question is Alex Rodriguez. You know that old childhood riddle where your mom, your best friend, and the girl you love are stranded on the road and you are driving a car that only has room for two people? Well ARod's answer is to just keep driving and only slow down long enough so that all three of them can see his middle finger.
I've heard that ARod refuses to pee in the shower because he would rather bottle it up and drink it later because unlike Snapple, it's made from the greatest stuff on Earth.
When John Wayne Gacy, convicted of sexually assaulting and killing young boys, was put to death by lethal injection his final words were, "Hey, at least I'm not Alex Rodriguez!"
Okay, okay, this got out of control rather quickly. MOST of these things didn't happen but the basic principle remains the same and that's Alex Rodriguez is a terrible human being.
Thanks to the New York Yankees being awesome contract negotiators ARod only has to hit 13 more home runs to make a $6 million bonus. You can see his initiative for appealing and trying to play this year. Oh he's come out and said how he's trying to fight for his life and be a good role model for his daughters but it's all bullshit. He wants that money.
Here's what's going to happen: ARod's suspension will hold, MLB will make sure of it. This is Bud Selig's swan song and pinnacle moment of his legacy and after they got Ryan Braun, Alex Rodriguez became the poster child of this whole ordeal. This one's not getting away.
So after the suspension he'll be over 40 with a bum hip and out of baseball for almost two full years. He'll probably come back and try to play but it will end up really sad and pathetic, just like Derek Jeter, except nobody will feel bad for him like they do Jeter because ARod has always been the scum of the Earth.
This is how it ends, kids, and the way that he's swinging these days he'll be hard pressed to hit 13 homers in the 49 or so games that the Yankees have left because they ain't making the post season this year. This is the end of Alex Rodriguez, and like so many public sports figures, he can try and delay the inevitable by appealing and fighting in court but the one thing he cannot stop is time. That will be his, yours, and my death blow. Time.
Time is a mean son of a bitch and not even a slippery ass bag like Alex Rodriguez can escape it. Good luck hitting 13, douche.
And today I learned how to link to my own posts.
Well the hammer has fallen on ARod and MLB has suspended him for 211 games, effective today. Unfortunately this is one of those cases where due process sucks balls because the guy you are dealing with is such an incredible asshole that he doesn't even recognize when it's finally time to go quietly into the night. He's appealed the suspension and I guess because the arbitrator in the case has a firm stick up his ass because the appeal might not be decided until DECEMBER. Meanwhile, the jerk gets to play baseball games.
Okay, I get it, there's a lot to soak in. You have to find Tony Bosch, resident weasel and leak to the Biogenesis lab, a credible and worthy witness. That's going to be tough to do considering I wouldn't trust Bosch to make me a ham sandwich and have it not contain some sort of incriminating evidence. Then after all of that you have to wade through a mile of paperwork that may or may not be fabricated.
With that said, the man in question is Alex Rodriguez. You know that old childhood riddle where your mom, your best friend, and the girl you love are stranded on the road and you are driving a car that only has room for two people? Well ARod's answer is to just keep driving and only slow down long enough so that all three of them can see his middle finger.
I've heard that ARod refuses to pee in the shower because he would rather bottle it up and drink it later because unlike Snapple, it's made from the greatest stuff on Earth.
When John Wayne Gacy, convicted of sexually assaulting and killing young boys, was put to death by lethal injection his final words were, "Hey, at least I'm not Alex Rodriguez!"
Okay, okay, this got out of control rather quickly. MOST of these things didn't happen but the basic principle remains the same and that's Alex Rodriguez is a terrible human being.
Thanks to the New York Yankees being awesome contract negotiators ARod only has to hit 13 more home runs to make a $6 million bonus. You can see his initiative for appealing and trying to play this year. Oh he's come out and said how he's trying to fight for his life and be a good role model for his daughters but it's all bullshit. He wants that money.
Here's what's going to happen: ARod's suspension will hold, MLB will make sure of it. This is Bud Selig's swan song and pinnacle moment of his legacy and after they got Ryan Braun, Alex Rodriguez became the poster child of this whole ordeal. This one's not getting away.
So after the suspension he'll be over 40 with a bum hip and out of baseball for almost two full years. He'll probably come back and try to play but it will end up really sad and pathetic, just like Derek Jeter, except nobody will feel bad for him like they do Jeter because ARod has always been the scum of the Earth.
This is how it ends, kids, and the way that he's swinging these days he'll be hard pressed to hit 13 homers in the 49 or so games that the Yankees have left because they ain't making the post season this year. This is the end of Alex Rodriguez, and like so many public sports figures, he can try and delay the inevitable by appealing and fighting in court but the one thing he cannot stop is time. That will be his, yours, and my death blow. Time.
Time is a mean son of a bitch and not even a slippery ass bag like Alex Rodriguez can escape it. Good luck hitting 13, douche.
Monday, August 5, 2013
Johnny Be Good
Well kids, it's August, and I'm back in full form and ready to educate the masses on life, sports, and hell, whatever else you want to know about. Including Hell...which is where Johnny Manziel has found himself the past four or five months.
I felt bad for Johnny Football. I really did. The kid wins the Heisman as a freshman, first person to ever do so, and is immediately thrown under the same scrutiny as the rest of the Heisman winners. How is that fair? He doesn't even get the chance to rail through a few sorority skanks, maybe brush elbows with some boosters, and get absolutely hammered on grain alcohol in the freezing snow with just a Speedo on. That's college, folks, that's how we learn.
And A.J. McCarron? You officially need to shut up. Nobody likes you, you aren't cool. You're a boring figure-head on a team that's carried you on their collective NFL-ready shoulders. You should get your masters at Alabama because third-string on the San Diego Chargers pays you in churros. You're not better than Manziel because he has a Heisman and you have a "Best Timing in the NCAA" award.
I really wish the Heisman Trust people would stop pretending that they are the Illuminati and this ever-expanding cult that controls everything and realize all they do is vote on who the best player is in COLLEGE football each year. It's the NCAA, which is terribly flawed, and it's college kids, which believe it or not, are flawed!
Johnny Manziel is a 20-year old kid. Now that I've said it maybe he'll stop reminding us. But because he's won the Heisman we're supposed to shake our heads every time he grabs a beer or sleeps in a little late and misses Peyton Manning's football camp? Did you just read what I wrote? Peyton Manning's football camp!? Getting excused from that is like getting promoted to Advanced Reading from Remedial Book Learning With Colors. Johnny was too hungover to make macaroni necklaces that day, Peyton, let's get over it.
Then he got booted out of a University of Texas frat party. Johnny, recognize when your guardian angel is looking out for you. If I accidentally stumbled my way into a University of Texas frat party I can only imagine what kinds of terrible S&M livestock activities are going on in those dark hallways. I just shuddered...I'm not kidding. They're the longhorns for Christ sakes, get outta there!
Aaaaand now we have reports that he's been profiting off of autographs which is a BIG no-no in the NCAA. Basically if you work for the NCAA you better not make any money...but I digress, that's my argument for another day.
First of all, how big of a scum bag can you be (or rather how popular can you get) that you charge people for signing your own name on something. That's incredible to me. "Oh this football is worth seven dollars, hold on a second, BLAM, now it's gonna be expensive in 30 years."
Second of all, why are we getting the autograph of a 20-year old? I'd be less upset about this if I found out that he was only signing sorority girls' boobs...and still charging! That's pretty boss.
The worst part, even though I saw Manziel circling the drain a couple of months ago, is that all it will take the crazy ass NCAA to take away his eligibility is ONE spurned person. That's it. No questions asked, this is what you get and I wouldn't be surprised if they go after the Heisman.
But then I also had this thought: Hey, maybe if the Heisman Trust was truly about not only on-field play but also how the person conducts himself in the community then I guess a freshman wasn't exactly the best pick because he was in freakin' high school a year ago! When I was a freshman I would skip classes not because I was drunk or on drugs but just because I could and nobody would yell at me. Take that, general society!
Here's the thing: the Heisman Trust is owned by the NCAA and the NCAA is owned by the same thing that birthed David Stern and Gary Bettman. It's all evil and it doesn't matter what you do because you're going down regardless.
I recognize the rational part of American society and a Tits for Tat program is ingenious, especially if you're popular enough to get away with it, which Johnny Manziel is. Which 20-year old hot shit in this room is turning down that kind of action? That's what I thought.
Can't we all just reach back and remember what it was like to have everything in the palm of our hand and then go right ahead and piss it all away on trivial things? Doesn't anybody remember what it means to be young? Leave the kid alone. I'm sure he's gotten a chick pregnant by now anyways. Let the autograph thing go away.
I felt bad for Johnny Football. I really did. The kid wins the Heisman as a freshman, first person to ever do so, and is immediately thrown under the same scrutiny as the rest of the Heisman winners. How is that fair? He doesn't even get the chance to rail through a few sorority skanks, maybe brush elbows with some boosters, and get absolutely hammered on grain alcohol in the freezing snow with just a Speedo on. That's college, folks, that's how we learn.
And A.J. McCarron? You officially need to shut up. Nobody likes you, you aren't cool. You're a boring figure-head on a team that's carried you on their collective NFL-ready shoulders. You should get your masters at Alabama because third-string on the San Diego Chargers pays you in churros. You're not better than Manziel because he has a Heisman and you have a "Best Timing in the NCAA" award.
I really wish the Heisman Trust people would stop pretending that they are the Illuminati and this ever-expanding cult that controls everything and realize all they do is vote on who the best player is in COLLEGE football each year. It's the NCAA, which is terribly flawed, and it's college kids, which believe it or not, are flawed!
Johnny Manziel is a 20-year old kid. Now that I've said it maybe he'll stop reminding us. But because he's won the Heisman we're supposed to shake our heads every time he grabs a beer or sleeps in a little late and misses Peyton Manning's football camp? Did you just read what I wrote? Peyton Manning's football camp!? Getting excused from that is like getting promoted to Advanced Reading from Remedial Book Learning With Colors. Johnny was too hungover to make macaroni necklaces that day, Peyton, let's get over it.
Then he got booted out of a University of Texas frat party. Johnny, recognize when your guardian angel is looking out for you. If I accidentally stumbled my way into a University of Texas frat party I can only imagine what kinds of terrible S&M livestock activities are going on in those dark hallways. I just shuddered...I'm not kidding. They're the longhorns for Christ sakes, get outta there!
Aaaaand now we have reports that he's been profiting off of autographs which is a BIG no-no in the NCAA. Basically if you work for the NCAA you better not make any money...but I digress, that's my argument for another day.
First of all, how big of a scum bag can you be (or rather how popular can you get) that you charge people for signing your own name on something. That's incredible to me. "Oh this football is worth seven dollars, hold on a second, BLAM, now it's gonna be expensive in 30 years."
Second of all, why are we getting the autograph of a 20-year old? I'd be less upset about this if I found out that he was only signing sorority girls' boobs...and still charging! That's pretty boss.
The worst part, even though I saw Manziel circling the drain a couple of months ago, is that all it will take the crazy ass NCAA to take away his eligibility is ONE spurned person. That's it. No questions asked, this is what you get and I wouldn't be surprised if they go after the Heisman.
But then I also had this thought: Hey, maybe if the Heisman Trust was truly about not only on-field play but also how the person conducts himself in the community then I guess a freshman wasn't exactly the best pick because he was in freakin' high school a year ago! When I was a freshman I would skip classes not because I was drunk or on drugs but just because I could and nobody would yell at me. Take that, general society!
Here's the thing: the Heisman Trust is owned by the NCAA and the NCAA is owned by the same thing that birthed David Stern and Gary Bettman. It's all evil and it doesn't matter what you do because you're going down regardless.
I recognize the rational part of American society and a Tits for Tat program is ingenious, especially if you're popular enough to get away with it, which Johnny Manziel is. Which 20-year old hot shit in this room is turning down that kind of action? That's what I thought.
Can't we all just reach back and remember what it was like to have everything in the palm of our hand and then go right ahead and piss it all away on trivial things? Doesn't anybody remember what it means to be young? Leave the kid alone. I'm sure he's gotten a chick pregnant by now anyways. Let the autograph thing go away.
Monday, July 22, 2013
Growing Old
Next month, well, exactly one month from today I will be turning 28.
That sucks.
But it sucks for weird reasons. I don't lose sleep over turning 28, I really don't. I might bitch and moan and complain that I'm getting old. And if it were medieval times, I'd be in trouble. But in modern times, and in the grand scheme of things, I still have seven years before I can run for President of the United States. So I got that going for me.
I guess what really concerns me, when we boil it down, is that I used to sleep soundly knowing that Dad had it. Strange noise at night? No worries, Dad will take care of it. I have trouble sleeping? Dad stays up later than me. I watched a scary movie? Dad will take advantage and exploit my fear. And he'd get his laugh in and then point out that it was only him and how gullible I was. And I hated that! I knew how ridiculous it was but yet he still got me...and I hated him for that!
My father did his own way, as I hope most fathers do, and there was no manual needed. And here I stand. I like to joke that my sarcasm and one-up-manship comes from my father and my need to help and hope the good guy wins comes from my mother and then it all comes together and forms my vary basic essence. And we all come from our own backgrounds. And my journalism background tells me to never start a sentence with and, yet I do it constantly, because I use a lot of commas too, and you shouldn't do that as well.
I guess becoming old just means that you miss all the shit you could pass off on your father. Now when there is a strange noise in my house, it either falls on my girlfriend, or our two under-ten pound dogs, or me. As much as I would love to throw the dogs out there and investigate, it falls to me. And it sounds weird but I sleep better knowing that I have my family's safety. I won't let any harm come to them and that makes me step up as a man.
But like I said, my parents came together in triumphant fashion to make me: a smart-talking, world-weary, freedom-fighting, good-natured, and just all around sad sonuvabitch, to sit here and talk to you guys. And I ask you guys tonight to not take advantage of anything your family gives you. Don't ever for a second think anything is eternal. Never sit there and assume you'll see them next year.
Take advantage of time. Relish all those times your father embarrassed you. Remember all those times your mother had your back when she really shouldn't have because you were a little shit. And never forget where you came from because that should be all you really care about.
No sports today, kiddos, just hold whatever family you have close.
That sucks.
But it sucks for weird reasons. I don't lose sleep over turning 28, I really don't. I might bitch and moan and complain that I'm getting old. And if it were medieval times, I'd be in trouble. But in modern times, and in the grand scheme of things, I still have seven years before I can run for President of the United States. So I got that going for me.
I guess what really concerns me, when we boil it down, is that I used to sleep soundly knowing that Dad had it. Strange noise at night? No worries, Dad will take care of it. I have trouble sleeping? Dad stays up later than me. I watched a scary movie? Dad will take advantage and exploit my fear. And he'd get his laugh in and then point out that it was only him and how gullible I was. And I hated that! I knew how ridiculous it was but yet he still got me...and I hated him for that!
My father did his own way, as I hope most fathers do, and there was no manual needed. And here I stand. I like to joke that my sarcasm and one-up-manship comes from my father and my need to help and hope the good guy wins comes from my mother and then it all comes together and forms my vary basic essence. And we all come from our own backgrounds. And my journalism background tells me to never start a sentence with and, yet I do it constantly, because I use a lot of commas too, and you shouldn't do that as well.
I guess becoming old just means that you miss all the shit you could pass off on your father. Now when there is a strange noise in my house, it either falls on my girlfriend, or our two under-ten pound dogs, or me. As much as I would love to throw the dogs out there and investigate, it falls to me. And it sounds weird but I sleep better knowing that I have my family's safety. I won't let any harm come to them and that makes me step up as a man.
But like I said, my parents came together in triumphant fashion to make me: a smart-talking, world-weary, freedom-fighting, good-natured, and just all around sad sonuvabitch, to sit here and talk to you guys. And I ask you guys tonight to not take advantage of anything your family gives you. Don't ever for a second think anything is eternal. Never sit there and assume you'll see them next year.
Take advantage of time. Relish all those times your father embarrassed you. Remember all those times your mother had your back when she really shouldn't have because you were a little shit. And never forget where you came from because that should be all you really care about.
No sports today, kiddos, just hold whatever family you have close.
Thursday, July 11, 2013
N Is For Nutrition
You know who has a really cushy job? Sandra Lee.
Never heard of her? That's because you probably don't watch the Food Network as religiously as I do. Or you might be one of those normal people that requires them to work on a Thursday afternoon. Either way, I'll explain why she's got it made:
She hosts a show (obviously on the Food Network) called Semi-Homemade Cooking where she cooks in front of a camera a bunch of pre-packaged crap that the rest of us buy every night for dinner only she's getting paid to teach our stupid degenerate asses how to work a blender. As if it wasn't bad enough she ends every show by making a cocktail that she then proceeds to chug down and laugh her drunken self all the way to the bank. I'm pretty sure the show is meant to be catered to housewives but it ends up just being an open mockery of American life and I find it to be pretty hilarious, so I tune in every Thursday.
Needless to say, it's questionable at best, like a lot of what the Food Network has been doing lately. Paula Deen for years has been advocating eating full sticks of butter in a nation with a youth obesity problem but we let that slide. But an older southern woman admits to using the N-word in her past and we yank her off the air and shun her like she's picking up where Hitler left off? I don't get it, James Woods.
Why the big crack down all of a sudden? Why all of a sudden is the Food Network pretending to care about social issues like racism? I can picture the big Food Network executives sitting in some high-rise office building with big ol' smug grins on their faces just saying, "You're welcome, black people!"
Look, I'm not defending Paula Deen, in fact I'm kinda glad she's off the air because like I said, she was trying to kill our children. I'm just a little suspicious about what's really going on around here. I understand the history behind words, trust me, I do. But are we really living in a world where we care what Paula Deen subscribes to? Are we really going to Paula Deen for more information than how to deep fry bacon in fat back? As far as ambassadors for goodwill go, Paula Deen isn't and has never been on my list, why is she on yours? I don't get it, James Woods!
Enough about that crap though. Let's talk about some other crap. How about some baseball crap?
ESPN brought to my attention last night something that at first hand seemed like a record but upon closer inspection is really no big freakin' deal at all. Apparently David Ortiz of the Boston Red Sox has now achieved the most career hits by a designated hitter.
Well, wa-freakin'-hoo for you, Ortiz! You've done exactly what we've DESIGNATED you to do and that's hit the damn ball. First of all, he plays a position that the American League just went and made up in the '70s because, well, probably just to see if they could! Second of all, all he does is bat! Do you know how many DH's have been league MVPs or Hall of Famers? I'll give you a hint...zero! Nobody likes a guy who plays half of the game. Get yourself a glove and get your ass out there!
What's the deal? Are you too out of shape to go shank ground balls? Bullshit, Prince Fielder drags his rotund ass out to first base for every Tiger's game because his momma raised him on the Paula Deen diet and now he's a superstar so don't tell me you can't do it!
If a person is given one specific task for the entirety of their job description and they can't do it then they are a FAILURE. But when they do achieve that one specific task there is no cause for celebration because all they have done is their job, which is something millions of Americans do every day! David Ortiz might be a feared hitter but he won't buck the trend of DH's not making the Hall of Fame.
There's just something about him that's so...shifty. He sucked for Minnesota, went to Boston in a bargain deal, and then all of a sudden became lights out. Then people started dropping like flies in the steroids scandal and he sucked again. And now a resurgence? I just don't get it, James Woods.
Well, kids, I've referenced Paula Deen, David Ortiz, and somehow James Woods. I need to go lie down.
Never heard of her? That's because you probably don't watch the Food Network as religiously as I do. Or you might be one of those normal people that requires them to work on a Thursday afternoon. Either way, I'll explain why she's got it made:
She hosts a show (obviously on the Food Network) called Semi-Homemade Cooking where she cooks in front of a camera a bunch of pre-packaged crap that the rest of us buy every night for dinner only she's getting paid to teach our stupid degenerate asses how to work a blender. As if it wasn't bad enough she ends every show by making a cocktail that she then proceeds to chug down and laugh her drunken self all the way to the bank. I'm pretty sure the show is meant to be catered to housewives but it ends up just being an open mockery of American life and I find it to be pretty hilarious, so I tune in every Thursday.
Needless to say, it's questionable at best, like a lot of what the Food Network has been doing lately. Paula Deen for years has been advocating eating full sticks of butter in a nation with a youth obesity problem but we let that slide. But an older southern woman admits to using the N-word in her past and we yank her off the air and shun her like she's picking up where Hitler left off? I don't get it, James Woods.
Why the big crack down all of a sudden? Why all of a sudden is the Food Network pretending to care about social issues like racism? I can picture the big Food Network executives sitting in some high-rise office building with big ol' smug grins on their faces just saying, "You're welcome, black people!"
Look, I'm not defending Paula Deen, in fact I'm kinda glad she's off the air because like I said, she was trying to kill our children. I'm just a little suspicious about what's really going on around here. I understand the history behind words, trust me, I do. But are we really living in a world where we care what Paula Deen subscribes to? Are we really going to Paula Deen for more information than how to deep fry bacon in fat back? As far as ambassadors for goodwill go, Paula Deen isn't and has never been on my list, why is she on yours? I don't get it, James Woods!
Enough about that crap though. Let's talk about some other crap. How about some baseball crap?
ESPN brought to my attention last night something that at first hand seemed like a record but upon closer inspection is really no big freakin' deal at all. Apparently David Ortiz of the Boston Red Sox has now achieved the most career hits by a designated hitter.
Well, wa-freakin'-hoo for you, Ortiz! You've done exactly what we've DESIGNATED you to do and that's hit the damn ball. First of all, he plays a position that the American League just went and made up in the '70s because, well, probably just to see if they could! Second of all, all he does is bat! Do you know how many DH's have been league MVPs or Hall of Famers? I'll give you a hint...zero! Nobody likes a guy who plays half of the game. Get yourself a glove and get your ass out there!
What's the deal? Are you too out of shape to go shank ground balls? Bullshit, Prince Fielder drags his rotund ass out to first base for every Tiger's game because his momma raised him on the Paula Deen diet and now he's a superstar so don't tell me you can't do it!
If a person is given one specific task for the entirety of their job description and they can't do it then they are a FAILURE. But when they do achieve that one specific task there is no cause for celebration because all they have done is their job, which is something millions of Americans do every day! David Ortiz might be a feared hitter but he won't buck the trend of DH's not making the Hall of Fame.
There's just something about him that's so...shifty. He sucked for Minnesota, went to Boston in a bargain deal, and then all of a sudden became lights out. Then people started dropping like flies in the steroids scandal and he sucked again. And now a resurgence? I just don't get it, James Woods.
Well, kids, I've referenced Paula Deen, David Ortiz, and somehow James Woods. I need to go lie down.
Monday, July 8, 2013
Now We Are Four
Kids, this month marks the four year anniversary of the Studly Pastures.
That's a long time to be breeding unicorns and making water cooler comments about life and if you've been reading, clearly my sanity has been affected. Sacrifices have been made and feelings have been hurt over the years but, hey, anything for you, my loyal, faceless entities. I'm definitely not the type to benefit from hearing himself talk. I get absolutely nothing from this and it's most definitely NOT a log of my own hubris.
You know that song, "You're So Vain"? Carly Simon wrote that about me. I'm sure of it.
But hey, I'm no dummy. I know I'm not perfect! I still breathe oxygen like the rest of you (except for the fish people). I've gotten rid of the need for consuming food and excreting waste but the oxygen thing still eludes me. It might take me another four years but eventually I'll get that oxygen thing figured out too! (then I'll finally be just like you high and mighty fish people).
Anyways, enough about me, let's get to what's made me so famous over the last four years: judging people solely based off of my own crazy perception of reality!
Dwight Howard has decided he wants to go and play for the Houston Rockets and we can all finally remove the tape from our eyelids and blink again. Why the Houston Rockets? He thinks that they can be contenders with him on the team. While everybody outside of Houston has just shit their pants from laughing too hard (I've seen it happen) let's try and look at this a little seriously--but there's a small problem. Dwight Howard doesn't take anything seriously. Remember when he first started playing for Orlando and he kept smiling all the time and everybody thought, "Hey, here's a nice guy who truly enjoys playing the game!" Well, you are all idiots. Dwight Howard was smiling because somebody made a fart joke or said the word 'titty' or something. Dwight Howard is a child. He doesn't care about trophies or legacy or anything remotely important in the game of basketball. He cares about everybody talking about Dwight Howard and he's getting it! Every single day! Even from me! ARGHHHHHHH!
I'm not going to make some lame 'Houston, we have a problem' joke because I kinda just did anyways but it's not going to work out! In today's NBA you need at least a third player, maybe even a decent fourth, and Houston doesn't have it. It was thrown around that maybe they would try and get Josh Smith but he just signed with the Detroit Pistons. Uh oh.
Which, by the way, I would love to have seen THAT business deal. "Hey Josh, ummm, we don't have anything." Whoever negotiated this deal needs to come and be my lawyer because he's probably the Hypno-toad from Futurama.
Oh but hey everything is shifting into place for 2014 when all the big names will be free agents again and all these teams will have cap space and...and...OH MY GOD MY EYES ARE BLEEDING! I absolutely hate that mentality. I hate to get all kindergarten on you but be the best you can be...today!
Enough basketball, it's July for crying out loud. Let's give the people what they want on this joyous of occasions and talk tennis.
Andy Murray has won Wimbledon this year to be the first Brit to hoist the trophy since 1936. I'm amazed. Not that he won but that it has taken over 70 years for Great Britain to win their own freakin' tournament. Relax, kids, I'm not ignorant, I know that tennis was invented by the French and not the British (you're welcome) but Wimbledon has been a British institution since 1877 and is the OLDEST tennis tournament in the world.
70 years? 70 years?! Could you imagine an American not winning the Daytona 500 for 70 years? The repercussions from something like that would be catastrophic. There's one thing you don't do and that's piss off rednecks. If they decided to revolt I'd be screwed. Not because I'd look terrible in a mullet but that Bud heavy tastes like copper wiring that's been soaked in moose piss. But if it's the only beer left in the fridge...
70 years. I hope this isn't a 'Portrait of Dorian Gray' type of thing where now that the curse is broken the Queen will lose her immortality. (Relax, I don't have that many British readers)
Well, here we are, kids. Four years later. In all seriousness, as much as I love hearing my own voice through my writing...if you've read a single line, or even a whole post, if you've giggled, chuckled or just slightly smirked just once...then it's been worth it. Thanks for making me feel like I'm not talking to the wall, my dear faceless entities.
That's a long time to be breeding unicorns and making water cooler comments about life and if you've been reading, clearly my sanity has been affected. Sacrifices have been made and feelings have been hurt over the years but, hey, anything for you, my loyal, faceless entities. I'm definitely not the type to benefit from hearing himself talk. I get absolutely nothing from this and it's most definitely NOT a log of my own hubris.
You know that song, "You're So Vain"? Carly Simon wrote that about me. I'm sure of it.
But hey, I'm no dummy. I know I'm not perfect! I still breathe oxygen like the rest of you (except for the fish people). I've gotten rid of the need for consuming food and excreting waste but the oxygen thing still eludes me. It might take me another four years but eventually I'll get that oxygen thing figured out too! (then I'll finally be just like you high and mighty fish people).
Anyways, enough about me, let's get to what's made me so famous over the last four years: judging people solely based off of my own crazy perception of reality!
Dwight Howard has decided he wants to go and play for the Houston Rockets and we can all finally remove the tape from our eyelids and blink again. Why the Houston Rockets? He thinks that they can be contenders with him on the team. While everybody outside of Houston has just shit their pants from laughing too hard (I've seen it happen) let's try and look at this a little seriously--but there's a small problem. Dwight Howard doesn't take anything seriously. Remember when he first started playing for Orlando and he kept smiling all the time and everybody thought, "Hey, here's a nice guy who truly enjoys playing the game!" Well, you are all idiots. Dwight Howard was smiling because somebody made a fart joke or said the word 'titty' or something. Dwight Howard is a child. He doesn't care about trophies or legacy or anything remotely important in the game of basketball. He cares about everybody talking about Dwight Howard and he's getting it! Every single day! Even from me! ARGHHHHHHH!
I'm not going to make some lame 'Houston, we have a problem' joke because I kinda just did anyways but it's not going to work out! In today's NBA you need at least a third player, maybe even a decent fourth, and Houston doesn't have it. It was thrown around that maybe they would try and get Josh Smith but he just signed with the Detroit Pistons. Uh oh.
Which, by the way, I would love to have seen THAT business deal. "Hey Josh, ummm, we don't have anything." Whoever negotiated this deal needs to come and be my lawyer because he's probably the Hypno-toad from Futurama.
Oh but hey everything is shifting into place for 2014 when all the big names will be free agents again and all these teams will have cap space and...and...OH MY GOD MY EYES ARE BLEEDING! I absolutely hate that mentality. I hate to get all kindergarten on you but be the best you can be...today!
Enough basketball, it's July for crying out loud. Let's give the people what they want on this joyous of occasions and talk tennis.
Andy Murray has won Wimbledon this year to be the first Brit to hoist the trophy since 1936. I'm amazed. Not that he won but that it has taken over 70 years for Great Britain to win their own freakin' tournament. Relax, kids, I'm not ignorant, I know that tennis was invented by the French and not the British (you're welcome) but Wimbledon has been a British institution since 1877 and is the OLDEST tennis tournament in the world.
70 years? 70 years?! Could you imagine an American not winning the Daytona 500 for 70 years? The repercussions from something like that would be catastrophic. There's one thing you don't do and that's piss off rednecks. If they decided to revolt I'd be screwed. Not because I'd look terrible in a mullet but that Bud heavy tastes like copper wiring that's been soaked in moose piss. But if it's the only beer left in the fridge...
70 years. I hope this isn't a 'Portrait of Dorian Gray' type of thing where now that the curse is broken the Queen will lose her immortality. (Relax, I don't have that many British readers)
Well, here we are, kids. Four years later. In all seriousness, as much as I love hearing my own voice through my writing...if you've read a single line, or even a whole post, if you've giggled, chuckled or just slightly smirked just once...then it's been worth it. Thanks for making me feel like I'm not talking to the wall, my dear faceless entities.
Wednesday, June 26, 2013
Warning: Contains Expletives
Well kids, the dreaded month of June is almost over and I simply cannot wait.
As a wee lad roaming the luscious green fields and prairies of America's heartland and blah blah blah...I hate the summer time. Get ready for two months of strictly baseball highlights and hot dog eating contests. While I do like baseball, I really only like MY team and could give two craps about the awesome play some other team made, Sportscenter. Oh, Manny Machado made a cool grab on a blooper? I'm just upset that his wrist didn't snap. Hey, Ichiro Suzuki hit a walk-off home run? Even Yankee fans find that appalling.
The College World Series might as well be daytime television. It's confusing, boring, and the named characters always prevail. I'm pretty sure UCLA won and I say pretty sure because the format on how they determine a winner is pretty much how the BCS rankings work: it's purely random. Kudos to UCLA but I'm sure the congratulatory card from John Wooden would have read, "Congrats on your first title, UCLA baseball, I think it's really cute."
Hockey is over and I say this with full respect but THANK GOODNESS. I'm sorry, I'm not a hockey fan, but I love hockey fans. I understand your admiration and genuine love so I get pissed off when Gary Bettman decides to dick around with that. I don't hate hockey, I hate Bettman, and I hate the system that he's currently utilizing. When a great event like the Stanley Cup finals rolls around, and Bettman is presiding, and fans are going nuts, and television ratings are high, I can't help but think, "You FOOLS! This is what he wanted all along!"
However, if you find yourself locked in a room with David Stern, Gary Bettman, and Satan with a loaded pistol with two bullets (I will probably find myself in this scenario), what you do is shoot Bettman twice and try to convince Satan that Stern is after his job. That's right, the NBA is done now too. Kudos to San Antonio for collectively shitting the bed and letting, er, um, excuse me, "letting" LeBron hold claim to his second title. But most importantly is that Stern now goes into his "nesting" period to prepare for next year's harvest. I'm still not convinced that he's retiring. Taking David Stern away from the NBA commissioner job is like taking Paula Deen away from a man that shits butter...they aren't going anywhere until your ass is chewed off. I won't even be satisfied when he does step down because he's probably just manipulating someone more powerful than him to upset the balance in the force. And if you didn't get that blatant Star Wars reference here's the gist: I think that David Stern is the Sith Lord.
Now back to the MLB. It's June. The Tampa Bay Rays play in the AL East (the best division in baseball) and I'm supposed to care over the peanut squabbling? Come talk to me in the fall when shit gets real and I start drinking because the Dolphins are doing so terribly and the Rays are on the cusp but juuuuuuusssst can't seem to reach it.
So what do we do until the NFL comes back? Hell if I know. All I know is that the Studly Pastures anniversary is coming up in a couple weeks and I feel like the fat girl on the couch, wearing sweat pants, and crying into a gallon of mint chocolate chip ice cream (I chose that flavor because if you don't like it, you're a weirdo).
Maybe we should get a hobby. I mean, working here on the unicorn stud farms tends to take up most of my day, but there's always the quiet aftermath. What then? I heard dream catchers are a fun project. But that's kind of lame and then after you make them, what are you going to do? Hang them on your wall? Get a booth at the flea market? You can't do that and expect people to still talk to you.
Alright kids, just grab a cold one, hunker down and watch some Netflix (they aren't paying me, I swear) and I will be back in July to celebrate myself. Take care.
As a wee lad roaming the luscious green fields and prairies of America's heartland and blah blah blah...I hate the summer time. Get ready for two months of strictly baseball highlights and hot dog eating contests. While I do like baseball, I really only like MY team and could give two craps about the awesome play some other team made, Sportscenter. Oh, Manny Machado made a cool grab on a blooper? I'm just upset that his wrist didn't snap. Hey, Ichiro Suzuki hit a walk-off home run? Even Yankee fans find that appalling.
The College World Series might as well be daytime television. It's confusing, boring, and the named characters always prevail. I'm pretty sure UCLA won and I say pretty sure because the format on how they determine a winner is pretty much how the BCS rankings work: it's purely random. Kudos to UCLA but I'm sure the congratulatory card from John Wooden would have read, "Congrats on your first title, UCLA baseball, I think it's really cute."
Hockey is over and I say this with full respect but THANK GOODNESS. I'm sorry, I'm not a hockey fan, but I love hockey fans. I understand your admiration and genuine love so I get pissed off when Gary Bettman decides to dick around with that. I don't hate hockey, I hate Bettman, and I hate the system that he's currently utilizing. When a great event like the Stanley Cup finals rolls around, and Bettman is presiding, and fans are going nuts, and television ratings are high, I can't help but think, "You FOOLS! This is what he wanted all along!"
However, if you find yourself locked in a room with David Stern, Gary Bettman, and Satan with a loaded pistol with two bullets (I will probably find myself in this scenario), what you do is shoot Bettman twice and try to convince Satan that Stern is after his job. That's right, the NBA is done now too. Kudos to San Antonio for collectively shitting the bed and letting, er, um, excuse me, "letting" LeBron hold claim to his second title. But most importantly is that Stern now goes into his "nesting" period to prepare for next year's harvest. I'm still not convinced that he's retiring. Taking David Stern away from the NBA commissioner job is like taking Paula Deen away from a man that shits butter...they aren't going anywhere until your ass is chewed off. I won't even be satisfied when he does step down because he's probably just manipulating someone more powerful than him to upset the balance in the force. And if you didn't get that blatant Star Wars reference here's the gist: I think that David Stern is the Sith Lord.
Now back to the MLB. It's June. The Tampa Bay Rays play in the AL East (the best division in baseball) and I'm supposed to care over the peanut squabbling? Come talk to me in the fall when shit gets real and I start drinking because the Dolphins are doing so terribly and the Rays are on the cusp but juuuuuuusssst can't seem to reach it.
So what do we do until the NFL comes back? Hell if I know. All I know is that the Studly Pastures anniversary is coming up in a couple weeks and I feel like the fat girl on the couch, wearing sweat pants, and crying into a gallon of mint chocolate chip ice cream (I chose that flavor because if you don't like it, you're a weirdo).
Maybe we should get a hobby. I mean, working here on the unicorn stud farms tends to take up most of my day, but there's always the quiet aftermath. What then? I heard dream catchers are a fun project. But that's kind of lame and then after you make them, what are you going to do? Hang them on your wall? Get a booth at the flea market? You can't do that and expect people to still talk to you.
Alright kids, just grab a cold one, hunker down and watch some Netflix (they aren't paying me, I swear) and I will be back in July to celebrate myself. Take care.
Wednesday, June 5, 2013
The Hammer To Fall
Well hello there, Alex Rodriguez and Ryan Braun, how nice to see you again!
And I only greet you so warmly because you are the first...and most expected. I can't wait for the others.
Kids, take notice, this is what happens when you make your personal foundation out of balsa wood. As much as I think (know) that Bud Selig is a figure-head and that Major League Baseball is more of a "Aw crap, we shouldn't have done that" instead of a "Hey, here's things we should look out for" type of business, I do have to give them the credit that in this dark time for the sport they WILL NOT subject new youth to the same poison that fell in love with them before the steroids era.
I truly believe that they have forsaken the reasons that they got into trouble to begin with and are now on the path to...eh, somewhat redemption. Witch-hunt? Of course. Hammer is falling, need scape-goats? Check. But do I think MLB is on the right track? Absolutely.
I was a kid when McGwire and Sosa were challenging each other for the season home run title and I was captivated. Then I was a teenager when whispers came out about that maybe they weren't doing it just themselves. Then I found myself pursuing a career in sports journalism. Thanks to them? No, not even. This piece is not even meant to be nostalgic. I went down the path of sports journalism because of my mother, so forward all emails to her.
I'm rambling, I'm not supposed to, but the point is that I watched the rise and the "rise" and the fall. And the supposed "rise" from that fall. But we've been falling for a long time, they've just been waiting to finally nail the last dirt bags. Well, kids, I think we got 'em.
Tony Bosch, the ring-leader behind the whole Miami-based PED (really? you don't know what this means? fine...it's performance enhancing drug, you big weirdo) is going to comply with federal investigators and implicate long time expected PED (see above) users and finally give them their just desserts.
Careful, let's not get ahead of ourselves just like, for example, ESPN. Calm down, ESPN, you are drooling. Relax a bit.
Tony Bosch is the equivalent to that guy on the Sopranos that denies and denies and is finally pinched by the feds and all of a sudden has all this information. Not exactly a reliable source, probably just some guy looking out for his own two bits.
Tony Bosch will end up being the legal nail in the coffin but haven't we already had enough? Do we really still look at A-Rod's home runs and legitimately nod our heads? When Ryan Braun's test came back "inconclusive" and he avoided suspension, did we assume he was innocent? No. Not even close. Major League Baseball and steroids is a slippery slope. It doesn't matter what has been proven, it matters if your name is on the list or not.
Where have I heard this before?
McCarthyism aside, here are some facts:
1. There are baseball players that have been accused of using PEDs that have denied it.
2. There are baseball players that haven't been accused of using PEDs that are using PEDs.
3. There are baseball players that have been accused of using PEDs that aren't using them.
4. There are baseball players that haven't been accused of using PEDs that aren't using them.
Let's put aside the fear tactics. A-Rod, Braun, and whomever else they so choose to go after, are they dirty? Probably. Maybe. I think so.
How dumb would you feel though? I mean, not necessarily with A-Rod, because he's done everything in his power to show you he has terrible judgement...but Braun? Braun has gone out of his way to prove his innocence. He found loop holes in the PED test for crying out loud* (*author's discretion, not viable to being sued by Ryan Braun...or his lawyers...dammit...it doesn't matter, he'll find a loop hole).
A-Rod plays for the Yankees, he's clearly evil! He's smacking you in the face with it like he is trying to smack a baseball out of the glove of Bronson Arroyo. (Bronson Arroyo just smiled somewhere.)
Ryan Braun plays for the Brewers! The damn Milwaukee Brewers! What's his angle!? "Maybe they won't see me up here. - Ryan Braun"
I don't get it. What I do get is that for every sport and for every hero you have cheaters and loop holes and maybe we've nailed two of the biggest and maybe we haven't. And I'm sad. I mentioned it in an earlier post how little league world series kids announce A-Rod as their favorite baseball player and it makes me have to stifle my vomit while I'm watching ESPN2 and First Take isn't even on.
And maybe when we're young we just pick our heroes not knowing whether they stand for good or evil but because in our eyes that's the biggest person we can see. And as we grow, so do our visions with them, and our dreams and all of a sudden we see like them.
And that's how cults get started. A-Rod and Braun are dirty, kids, go out and play tee-ball.
And I only greet you so warmly because you are the first...and most expected. I can't wait for the others.
Kids, take notice, this is what happens when you make your personal foundation out of balsa wood. As much as I think (know) that Bud Selig is a figure-head and that Major League Baseball is more of a "Aw crap, we shouldn't have done that" instead of a "Hey, here's things we should look out for" type of business, I do have to give them the credit that in this dark time for the sport they WILL NOT subject new youth to the same poison that fell in love with them before the steroids era.
I truly believe that they have forsaken the reasons that they got into trouble to begin with and are now on the path to...eh, somewhat redemption. Witch-hunt? Of course. Hammer is falling, need scape-goats? Check. But do I think MLB is on the right track? Absolutely.
I was a kid when McGwire and Sosa were challenging each other for the season home run title and I was captivated. Then I was a teenager when whispers came out about that maybe they weren't doing it just themselves. Then I found myself pursuing a career in sports journalism. Thanks to them? No, not even. This piece is not even meant to be nostalgic. I went down the path of sports journalism because of my mother, so forward all emails to her.
I'm rambling, I'm not supposed to, but the point is that I watched the rise and the "rise" and the fall. And the supposed "rise" from that fall. But we've been falling for a long time, they've just been waiting to finally nail the last dirt bags. Well, kids, I think we got 'em.
Tony Bosch, the ring-leader behind the whole Miami-based PED (really? you don't know what this means? fine...it's performance enhancing drug, you big weirdo) is going to comply with federal investigators and implicate long time expected PED (see above) users and finally give them their just desserts.
Careful, let's not get ahead of ourselves just like, for example, ESPN. Calm down, ESPN, you are drooling. Relax a bit.
Tony Bosch is the equivalent to that guy on the Sopranos that denies and denies and is finally pinched by the feds and all of a sudden has all this information. Not exactly a reliable source, probably just some guy looking out for his own two bits.
Tony Bosch will end up being the legal nail in the coffin but haven't we already had enough? Do we really still look at A-Rod's home runs and legitimately nod our heads? When Ryan Braun's test came back "inconclusive" and he avoided suspension, did we assume he was innocent? No. Not even close. Major League Baseball and steroids is a slippery slope. It doesn't matter what has been proven, it matters if your name is on the list or not.
Where have I heard this before?
McCarthyism aside, here are some facts:
1. There are baseball players that have been accused of using PEDs that have denied it.
2. There are baseball players that haven't been accused of using PEDs that are using PEDs.
3. There are baseball players that have been accused of using PEDs that aren't using them.
4. There are baseball players that haven't been accused of using PEDs that aren't using them.
Let's put aside the fear tactics. A-Rod, Braun, and whomever else they so choose to go after, are they dirty? Probably. Maybe. I think so.
How dumb would you feel though? I mean, not necessarily with A-Rod, because he's done everything in his power to show you he has terrible judgement...but Braun? Braun has gone out of his way to prove his innocence. He found loop holes in the PED test for crying out loud* (*author's discretion, not viable to being sued by Ryan Braun...or his lawyers...dammit...it doesn't matter, he'll find a loop hole).
A-Rod plays for the Yankees, he's clearly evil! He's smacking you in the face with it like he is trying to smack a baseball out of the glove of Bronson Arroyo. (Bronson Arroyo just smiled somewhere.)
Ryan Braun plays for the Brewers! The damn Milwaukee Brewers! What's his angle!? "Maybe they won't see me up here. - Ryan Braun"
I don't get it. What I do get is that for every sport and for every hero you have cheaters and loop holes and maybe we've nailed two of the biggest and maybe we haven't. And I'm sad. I mentioned it in an earlier post how little league world series kids announce A-Rod as their favorite baseball player and it makes me have to stifle my vomit while I'm watching ESPN2 and First Take isn't even on.
And maybe when we're young we just pick our heroes not knowing whether they stand for good or evil but because in our eyes that's the biggest person we can see. And as we grow, so do our visions with them, and our dreams and all of a sudden we see like them.
And that's how cults get started. A-Rod and Braun are dirty, kids, go out and play tee-ball.
Tuesday, April 30, 2013
The Great Divide
I've never meant for the Studly Pastures to be any sort of platform for religious debate because I like making jokes (and even that little line has gotten me in hot water, it's really a fine line).
Look kids, let's get it all out in the open right now. Let us both put our cards on the table. I fully support freedom of religion...to an extent. You can pray to whoever you want to but when you start using your religion to preach hate, well, now you and I have a problem.
Disclaimer: Just because I disagree with you, or you with me, doesn't mean I automatically hate you. This isn't high school.
Jason Collins breaks the barrier and becomes the first active player in one of the four major American sports to announce that he's gay. Then the sides formed.
Hundreds (estimation based off of lack of research) came out in support of Collins, calling him 'brave' and almost immediately inducted him into civil rights lore as a hero. To make the decision to truly be yourself and not hide from who you are is brave and for that I do commend Jason Collins. But let's calm down just a little bit and not put him on the mountain just yet with Harriet Tubman and Martin Luther King. He came out in Sports Illustrated, is currently a free agent, and has been on six teams in 12 years.
But this had to happen, I'm glad it did, and I'm disappointed that it took until 2013. The reason why it took so long is because the intelligence quotient of the general population is rather small and therefore they are frightened very easily. Small steps and deep breaths.
But there are detractors--and they don't necessarily mean to be--it's what their religion demands. Chris Broussard, ESPN reporter, who I've flamed on here before for his inability to report anything, is now in trouble with me for something completely different.
Broussard declared that being gay was an "open rebellion to God." I'm sorry, I thought this was Outside The Lines on ESPN, not the 700 club. Broussard is entitled to his religion and his opinion but it would be in his best interest if he keeps that stuff to himself, or at the very least, off the air under the title of his employer.
It's not that I don't want Chris Broussard to practice his religion it's that whenever I turn to him I expect to hear some form of really shitty insider NBA information. He never knows anything about anybody and I find that to be slightly entertaining when I listen to other analysts prattle on about San Antonio or Miami or any other team I could care less about. I consider Chris Broussard to be the Dane Cook of religion. He's pretty much just stealing material and making me hate even the sight of his face.
Being gay seems like a pretty roundabout way to rebel against God. I would just renounce Him, you know, in place of all the sodomy.
Am I the only one around here who first saw the 'Breaking News' and thought 'Oh crap, what now?' only to see that Jason Collins announces he's gay and then breathe a sigh of relief and think 'That's it?'
That's not breaking news. A gay guy announcing he's gay is the same as me announcing that I like breasts, which I did a couple of months ago. GOOD FOR YOU BUT NOBODY CARES! That should be a sticker they give out in kindergarten. I want to live in that world. Hey, that guy is gay...let's move on. BOOM. That simple.
Is Collins right or is Broussard right? The answer is they both are but they should stop standing on pedestals when they talk. They still poop like the rest of us.
Look kids, let's get it all out in the open right now. Let us both put our cards on the table. I fully support freedom of religion...to an extent. You can pray to whoever you want to but when you start using your religion to preach hate, well, now you and I have a problem.
Disclaimer: Just because I disagree with you, or you with me, doesn't mean I automatically hate you. This isn't high school.
Jason Collins breaks the barrier and becomes the first active player in one of the four major American sports to announce that he's gay. Then the sides formed.
Hundreds (estimation based off of lack of research) came out in support of Collins, calling him 'brave' and almost immediately inducted him into civil rights lore as a hero. To make the decision to truly be yourself and not hide from who you are is brave and for that I do commend Jason Collins. But let's calm down just a little bit and not put him on the mountain just yet with Harriet Tubman and Martin Luther King. He came out in Sports Illustrated, is currently a free agent, and has been on six teams in 12 years.
But this had to happen, I'm glad it did, and I'm disappointed that it took until 2013. The reason why it took so long is because the intelligence quotient of the general population is rather small and therefore they are frightened very easily. Small steps and deep breaths.
But there are detractors--and they don't necessarily mean to be--it's what their religion demands. Chris Broussard, ESPN reporter, who I've flamed on here before for his inability to report anything, is now in trouble with me for something completely different.
Broussard declared that being gay was an "open rebellion to God." I'm sorry, I thought this was Outside The Lines on ESPN, not the 700 club. Broussard is entitled to his religion and his opinion but it would be in his best interest if he keeps that stuff to himself, or at the very least, off the air under the title of his employer.
It's not that I don't want Chris Broussard to practice his religion it's that whenever I turn to him I expect to hear some form of really shitty insider NBA information. He never knows anything about anybody and I find that to be slightly entertaining when I listen to other analysts prattle on about San Antonio or Miami or any other team I could care less about. I consider Chris Broussard to be the Dane Cook of religion. He's pretty much just stealing material and making me hate even the sight of his face.
Being gay seems like a pretty roundabout way to rebel against God. I would just renounce Him, you know, in place of all the sodomy.
Am I the only one around here who first saw the 'Breaking News' and thought 'Oh crap, what now?' only to see that Jason Collins announces he's gay and then breathe a sigh of relief and think 'That's it?'
That's not breaking news. A gay guy announcing he's gay is the same as me announcing that I like breasts, which I did a couple of months ago. GOOD FOR YOU BUT NOBODY CARES! That should be a sticker they give out in kindergarten. I want to live in that world. Hey, that guy is gay...let's move on. BOOM. That simple.
Is Collins right or is Broussard right? The answer is they both are but they should stop standing on pedestals when they talk. They still poop like the rest of us.
Monday, April 29, 2013
You Done Crossed The Line
If I could choose to be reborn in this world I would choose to come back as a baseball umpire and be granted immunity for all of my mistakes that I would ever make. Controversy would ensue, including the fuel behind this blog, and I would win twice! Hah!
What in the holy Hell is Tom Hallion thinking? You can't curse at a player! Don't you get it? Are you confused as to what role you play in baseball? You're an umpire and you're above judgment! You cannot be touched, so why even bother letting a player get under your skin?
Hallion's problem extends further than yelling the F bomb at the Ray's David Price. Wait, wait...I'm sorry...I'm getting ahead of myself. I forget that not everybody reading this automatically follows the Tampa Bay Rays as if it's some sort of religion. Silly me. Let me fill you in.
Kids, yesterday the Tampa Bay Rays played the Chicago White Sox in a game of baseball...and I almost threw a bottle of scotch at the television for the level of autonomy that the umpires in baseball are given! Enter Tom Hallion, an umpire who has been around since 1985--the year I was born. If in my 27 years I can manage to string together a few coherent sentences that can actually be interpreted by the general public then I would assume someone doing their same job for the same amount of time could maintain some sort of professionalism.
And kids, I would be wrong.
David Price, starting pitcher for the Rays and reigning AL Cy Young award winner (and not that you would take my word for it but honestly a really, really good guy) was throwing pitches to Dewayne Wise, a hitter for the White Sox, last night when the umpire decided that he wasn't going to properly call balls and strikes anymore. That umpire was Tom Hallion.
Price thought he had delivered the necessary pitch to strike out Wise (because he did) but Hallion called it a ball. So Price threw again and Wise swung and missed. Price says that as he was walking back to the dugout he was talking angrily to himself over his struggles and apparently Hallion misconstrued it as directed to him. Price alleges that Hallion retaliated by yelling at Price, "Just throw it over the f------ plate!"
Hallion has already come out and called Price a 'liar' for the allegations and as the Rays dugout erupted to the supposed claim, Hallion even went so far as to eject Rays' pitcher Jeremy Hellickson for apparently reacting to an umpire cursing at a player he is currently umpiring! Hellickson, who I have never heard utter a discouraging word since his very first MLB start two years ago was apparently out of line. Give me a break.
This takes me back to the third grade when my art teacher told me to draw a picture of a duck and I gave my interpretation as a 'misunderstood mallard teenage rebel with a troubled past that he cannot escape'. I was so proud but then my teacher walked over and slapped me square in the face and said that ducks had rounded bills and not sharp beaks. When I went to the media I was debunked because my art teacher was the authority and I was just some kid who continually crapped his pants.
Pants-crapping aside, I hope that totalitarian view of the situation scared you into action. Three weeks ago I told you that umpires were abusing their power and going way, way too far. Now they're verbally berating players. A Major League Baseball umpire went on record and called a current player a 'liar'! Are you kidding? This cannot happen, even if he truly believes it and isn't just trying to cover his own ass, it CANNOT happen!
For this, Commissioner Bud Selig, I need retribution. David Price needs retribution. The Tampa Bay Rays need retribution. Hallion needs to be, at the very least, suspended. Players are fined every day when they complain to the media so why should he be any different when he came out and made such a bold claim as to call someone a LIAR!?
Look, I could care less what caliber of umpire that Hallion is, and there's plenty of statistics that people keep to show that he is, let's say, less than average as far as umpiring goes. People suck at their jobs. It happens. But when you suck at your job and yet you still go power hungry...well then you must be stopped.
If there is a fine line for every issue, consider this one leap-frogged over. If Hallion goes unpunished how can I feel comfortable having him umpire another Price start--or Hell--another Rays game at all? If he has the gall to name my guy as a liar what is stopping him from purposely making the wrong calls?
It's unfortunate but so is the world we live in. All hail the mighty umpire.
What in the holy Hell is Tom Hallion thinking? You can't curse at a player! Don't you get it? Are you confused as to what role you play in baseball? You're an umpire and you're above judgment! You cannot be touched, so why even bother letting a player get under your skin?
Hallion's problem extends further than yelling the F bomb at the Ray's David Price. Wait, wait...I'm sorry...I'm getting ahead of myself. I forget that not everybody reading this automatically follows the Tampa Bay Rays as if it's some sort of religion. Silly me. Let me fill you in.
Kids, yesterday the Tampa Bay Rays played the Chicago White Sox in a game of baseball...and I almost threw a bottle of scotch at the television for the level of autonomy that the umpires in baseball are given! Enter Tom Hallion, an umpire who has been around since 1985--the year I was born. If in my 27 years I can manage to string together a few coherent sentences that can actually be interpreted by the general public then I would assume someone doing their same job for the same amount of time could maintain some sort of professionalism.
And kids, I would be wrong.
David Price, starting pitcher for the Rays and reigning AL Cy Young award winner (and not that you would take my word for it but honestly a really, really good guy) was throwing pitches to Dewayne Wise, a hitter for the White Sox, last night when the umpire decided that he wasn't going to properly call balls and strikes anymore. That umpire was Tom Hallion.
Price thought he had delivered the necessary pitch to strike out Wise (because he did) but Hallion called it a ball. So Price threw again and Wise swung and missed. Price says that as he was walking back to the dugout he was talking angrily to himself over his struggles and apparently Hallion misconstrued it as directed to him. Price alleges that Hallion retaliated by yelling at Price, "Just throw it over the f------ plate!"
Hallion has already come out and called Price a 'liar' for the allegations and as the Rays dugout erupted to the supposed claim, Hallion even went so far as to eject Rays' pitcher Jeremy Hellickson for apparently reacting to an umpire cursing at a player he is currently umpiring! Hellickson, who I have never heard utter a discouraging word since his very first MLB start two years ago was apparently out of line. Give me a break.
This takes me back to the third grade when my art teacher told me to draw a picture of a duck and I gave my interpretation as a 'misunderstood mallard teenage rebel with a troubled past that he cannot escape'. I was so proud but then my teacher walked over and slapped me square in the face and said that ducks had rounded bills and not sharp beaks. When I went to the media I was debunked because my art teacher was the authority and I was just some kid who continually crapped his pants.
Pants-crapping aside, I hope that totalitarian view of the situation scared you into action. Three weeks ago I told you that umpires were abusing their power and going way, way too far. Now they're verbally berating players. A Major League Baseball umpire went on record and called a current player a 'liar'! Are you kidding? This cannot happen, even if he truly believes it and isn't just trying to cover his own ass, it CANNOT happen!
For this, Commissioner Bud Selig, I need retribution. David Price needs retribution. The Tampa Bay Rays need retribution. Hallion needs to be, at the very least, suspended. Players are fined every day when they complain to the media so why should he be any different when he came out and made such a bold claim as to call someone a LIAR!?
Look, I could care less what caliber of umpire that Hallion is, and there's plenty of statistics that people keep to show that he is, let's say, less than average as far as umpiring goes. People suck at their jobs. It happens. But when you suck at your job and yet you still go power hungry...well then you must be stopped.
If there is a fine line for every issue, consider this one leap-frogged over. If Hallion goes unpunished how can I feel comfortable having him umpire another Price start--or Hell--another Rays game at all? If he has the gall to name my guy as a liar what is stopping him from purposely making the wrong calls?
It's unfortunate but so is the world we live in. All hail the mighty umpire.
Sunday, April 28, 2013
Back To The Draft
Another NFL Draft has come and gone, kids, and per usual it is bereft of things that normal people care about but rife with things that obsessive compulsors like me (and to an extent, you) can sit back and laugh a little at.
For example, let's start with me and my borderline 'cut myself obsession' with the Miami Dolphins. Well folks, they did it AGAIN! I sit here on the flip-side of another draft and I'm just puzzled at their continued actions to try and get me to renounce my fanship. Am I that big of a bad luck charm?
I don't know Dion Jordan. I have no idea what he's capable of or what he's already accomplished. He comes from Oregon, which is a Pac-12 school, which might as well be in a different country as far as I'm concerned because the only thing I know about the West Coast is that 60 Minutes never seems to air there (and that's a joke for East Coasters.)
I've heard that he could be an elite pass-rusher, and possibly the best defender in the draft, and if that turns out to be true I might be able to cry for the first time in my life out of sheer bewilderment. But my track record tells me that we might have gotten another Fuzzby.
You might recall that last year I lamented how Andrew Luck and RG3 were Furby's and as the poor kid on the block I got stuck with Ryan Tannehill, the Fuzzby. Now Tannehill played his little heart out and he gives hope to the future but he never did anything to prove to me that he wasn't a Fuzzby. The two Furby's went to the playoffs and Miami finished sub .500 yet again.
But the NFL is a team game more than any other sport and I know that you can't be expected to do it alone and so the Dolphins have made it a mission this off-season to get our Fuzzby some help. So we got him the fastest guy in the NFL to throw to, we beefed up our front seven on defense, and we drafted a kid that could be the perfect compliment to our quarterback pressure...or he could be the biggest bone-headed pick we ever made.
That's the thing about the NFL draft: It's the most publicized game of Russian Roulette that exists. Except when you are fan of the Miami Dolphins, the chamber holds five bullets instead of one.
The absolutely crazy thing about everything they have done this off-season is that--it might just actually mesh together perfectly. It's absolutely absurd to declare anything at this point, considering it's still April, but what if it works? What if, God-forgiving, they catch a lucky break? What if...they actually know what they are doing and it WORKS?!
I just got goosebumps. Gasp! What if the Miami Dolphins are actually good, to the point of actual competition? I wouldn't know what to do with the Pastures this year...retire it I guess.
But the world would be so much better if we all crapped gumdrops and lemon drops and blah blah blah. Let's keep our asses firmly on the ground and just assume that I know nothing about sports.
Tyrann Mathieu was drafted before Matt Barkley. Isn't that absolutely hilarious? The NFL thought the chronic rule breaker and pothead had better upside than Barkley.
They shouldn't have been so hard on Barkley, he was the victim of circumstance (shoulder injury) and of people giving him completely the wrong advice. He only came back for his senior year because of the influence of Lane Kiffin, which is not so much a testament to Barkley's poor judgment as it is to Kiffin's evilness. The guy, Kiffin, is such garbage that he's charging Oscar the Grouch rent (and that's a joke for the whole family.)
It's not Barkley's fault that he's followed in the footsteps of wash-outs like Matt Leinart and Mark Sanchez, and kinda Carson Palmer but not as much as the other two. Let him prove he can buck the trend. Don't slight the kid because of what a bunch of dumb, surfer bro's from SoCal have done so far.
Mathieu had it all in the palm of his hand and he rolled it up and smoked it all away...again...and again...and again. He doesn't deserve a second chance because he used that up a couple of years ago. Even cats are jealous of how many chances the Honey Badger gets (and that's a joke for all the lonely people.)
And at the end of the day, Mathieu goes to Arizona and Barkley goes to Philadelphia and absolutely nobody wins because both of those teams are complete crap.
We have time for one more pick that stood out to me and that belongs to my dear friends, the Lennie Smalls of the NFL, the Buffalo Bills (and finally a joke for the literary minds.) They took EJ Manuel at 16 overall. Let that sink in.
Now resume breathing.
After I was pounding beers after the Dion Jordan pick I was granted a reprieve when my rival Bills chose an even worse pick, which might have been the worst pick. Not only was Manuel considered a third round pick, at best, he is definitely a "project quarterback" which is something the Bills don't have the time or resources to commit to. Manuel needs to sit behind a valued veteran for at least a couple of years instead of being thrown to the dogs right away which is not going to happen in Buffalo.
It's a complete lose-lose situation but hey, what do I know? Nothing about sports.
Live long and prosper, kids.
For example, let's start with me and my borderline 'cut myself obsession' with the Miami Dolphins. Well folks, they did it AGAIN! I sit here on the flip-side of another draft and I'm just puzzled at their continued actions to try and get me to renounce my fanship. Am I that big of a bad luck charm?
I don't know Dion Jordan. I have no idea what he's capable of or what he's already accomplished. He comes from Oregon, which is a Pac-12 school, which might as well be in a different country as far as I'm concerned because the only thing I know about the West Coast is that 60 Minutes never seems to air there (and that's a joke for East Coasters.)
I've heard that he could be an elite pass-rusher, and possibly the best defender in the draft, and if that turns out to be true I might be able to cry for the first time in my life out of sheer bewilderment. But my track record tells me that we might have gotten another Fuzzby.
You might recall that last year I lamented how Andrew Luck and RG3 were Furby's and as the poor kid on the block I got stuck with Ryan Tannehill, the Fuzzby. Now Tannehill played his little heart out and he gives hope to the future but he never did anything to prove to me that he wasn't a Fuzzby. The two Furby's went to the playoffs and Miami finished sub .500 yet again.
But the NFL is a team game more than any other sport and I know that you can't be expected to do it alone and so the Dolphins have made it a mission this off-season to get our Fuzzby some help. So we got him the fastest guy in the NFL to throw to, we beefed up our front seven on defense, and we drafted a kid that could be the perfect compliment to our quarterback pressure...or he could be the biggest bone-headed pick we ever made.
That's the thing about the NFL draft: It's the most publicized game of Russian Roulette that exists. Except when you are fan of the Miami Dolphins, the chamber holds five bullets instead of one.
The absolutely crazy thing about everything they have done this off-season is that--it might just actually mesh together perfectly. It's absolutely absurd to declare anything at this point, considering it's still April, but what if it works? What if, God-forgiving, they catch a lucky break? What if...they actually know what they are doing and it WORKS?!
I just got goosebumps. Gasp! What if the Miami Dolphins are actually good, to the point of actual competition? I wouldn't know what to do with the Pastures this year...retire it I guess.
But the world would be so much better if we all crapped gumdrops and lemon drops and blah blah blah. Let's keep our asses firmly on the ground and just assume that I know nothing about sports.
Tyrann Mathieu was drafted before Matt Barkley. Isn't that absolutely hilarious? The NFL thought the chronic rule breaker and pothead had better upside than Barkley.
They shouldn't have been so hard on Barkley, he was the victim of circumstance (shoulder injury) and of people giving him completely the wrong advice. He only came back for his senior year because of the influence of Lane Kiffin, which is not so much a testament to Barkley's poor judgment as it is to Kiffin's evilness. The guy, Kiffin, is such garbage that he's charging Oscar the Grouch rent (and that's a joke for the whole family.)
It's not Barkley's fault that he's followed in the footsteps of wash-outs like Matt Leinart and Mark Sanchez, and kinda Carson Palmer but not as much as the other two. Let him prove he can buck the trend. Don't slight the kid because of what a bunch of dumb, surfer bro's from SoCal have done so far.
Mathieu had it all in the palm of his hand and he rolled it up and smoked it all away...again...and again...and again. He doesn't deserve a second chance because he used that up a couple of years ago. Even cats are jealous of how many chances the Honey Badger gets (and that's a joke for all the lonely people.)
And at the end of the day, Mathieu goes to Arizona and Barkley goes to Philadelphia and absolutely nobody wins because both of those teams are complete crap.
We have time for one more pick that stood out to me and that belongs to my dear friends, the Lennie Smalls of the NFL, the Buffalo Bills (and finally a joke for the literary minds.) They took EJ Manuel at 16 overall. Let that sink in.
Now resume breathing.
After I was pounding beers after the Dion Jordan pick I was granted a reprieve when my rival Bills chose an even worse pick, which might have been the worst pick. Not only was Manuel considered a third round pick, at best, he is definitely a "project quarterback" which is something the Bills don't have the time or resources to commit to. Manuel needs to sit behind a valued veteran for at least a couple of years instead of being thrown to the dogs right away which is not going to happen in Buffalo.
It's a complete lose-lose situation but hey, what do I know? Nothing about sports.
Live long and prosper, kids.
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