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07.30.07
Posted in AJ, Sports at 12:53 pm by AJ
Over the weekend as I was driving to the Hot Air Balloon Festival in Stark County to work I was listening to ESPN Radio and heard a statement that simply blew my mind and got me thinking. I was listening to a Diamondbacks-Braves game (yes you can listen to westcoast stuff on ESPN radio…its fantastic) and they were talking about Randy Johnson. Most people know that he has always been a dominant pitching force (even appearing in the major motion picture Little Big League) and some people may also know that he is 12 wins shy of 300 and that he is having his 2nd back surgery in two years; effectively ending his season.
The announcers were talking about the fact that Randy is going to give it one more go next year and hopes to come back healthy for his final Hurrah. Now the part that drove me crazy is that the announcers said he’s coming back simply because he owes it to the Diamondback’s franchise. Are you kidding me? I can think of two reasons why Randy is coming back. One involves one of the most respected fraternities in all of sports (the 300 win club) and the other involves 9 million dollars. (Perhaps he should hire T.O.’s old PR woman)
When it comes down to the basics of the sport of baseball it goes like this: Yes it’s a team sport but the records are incredibly individualistic. It is so rare to see players giving it all just becuase of the team they are with. In fact we may have seen the last two selfless players in the league this weekend when Tony Gwynn and Cal Ripken Jr. were enshrined together in Cooperstown. Both players played their entire careers for their hometown teams and never left to chase records or rings. (Put Gwynn on the Yankees for the 2nd half of his career and he’d have enough gold to fill Fort Knox).
Side Note: You could put a guy like Craig Biggio in that group who, in his 18th year, is still performing well for the same team he started with. His 3,000th hit was well deserved and possibly the best moment in the MLB so far this year.
When it comes down to it players rarely actually care about the team they play for. All they truly care about are rings, Rolls-Royce, and records. I’ll give a few examples…
*Do you think Barry is trying to break Hank’s record for the good of San Francisco?
-A-Rod is going to be opting out of his contract this fall with the Yankees for greener pastures (Literally) somewhere else. I have a hard time believing that he signed a record deal with the Rangers because of his love of Texas Toast and I have an even more difficult time thinking that his new $30 Million a year contract that Boston will most likely give him will be becuase he wants to further his knowledge of the Irish Heritage and culture.
-C.C. Sabathia has come up through the Indians farm system and has become one of the most dominating forces in the game today under the guidance of the Tribe coaches. Something tells me team loyalty won’t be on his mind next year when he’s making $20 million-plus in pinstripes.
-Even my beloved Travis Hafner (PRONK!!) is searching for the money. Earlier this year he said he wanted to test the free agent waters and only recently signed a lucritive deal with the Indians because he’s struggled this year and wanted to make sure he didn’t lose his value.
All over the league players take more money instead of staying with the team that made them known and so often players stay way passed their prime simply to obtain records and numbers. (Ahem…Sosa) It would be refreshing if, even for one season, these guys didn’t play for the money, removed the stats and simply played the game for the reasons it should be played.
Professional baseball players lose sight of the fact that they are one of the few who can answer questions like: Is that grass as spongey as it looks? Does red brick hurt less to slide on then that kitty litter we play on? What does a Rivera cutter look like from the plate? How far does Zito’s curveball actually drop? Do you still get chills every time you jog out to your position to a standing ovation?
Where you guys play the sun shines daily, the lights glimmer nightly and little kids worship you more with every double to the gap and barehanded play. Forget the money and records… play for the love of the game.
“You gotta be a man to play baseball for a living, but you gotta have a little boy in you, too. -Roy Campanella
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07.26.07
Posted in Music, Television, Big D at 9:44 pm by Big D
Hey - there’s a show on CET HD right now called “Soundstage” and it’s Jewel performing… not to sound like a homo, but she’s very good.
Also, she’s very hot.
But, besides that it’s pretty cool - just her and an acoustic guitar singing tunes. I’d kind of forgotten about her, but it’s good to see that she’s both still hot and a genuinely good musician, unlike most of the music chicks these days.
Oh, and yea: she’s still not had her teeth fixed, but it’s not really that bad & I can understand a concern that it may change her sound.
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Posted in Celebrities, Music, Life, Television, Movies, News, Sports, JD at 2:40 pm by jd
A little bit of this, a little bit of that…
Great post today by AJ. Consider it my muse for the following, musings. Too much muse, sorry. Sorry, Rick Reilly, I’m stealing your column idea. Apologies also to Oleander for stealing their line.
“We’re here to be there when our kid has three goals and an assist. And especially when he doesn’t.”
– Rick Reilly
We’re here to donate to a cause we believe in, even if it means buying a burrito that has the proceeds donated to the Urban Learning Garden; and even if it DOESN’T mean donating to a Church. Your beliefs are your own, and you are entitled. Just don’t express them around me because I might not agree with you, and if not, you are wrong!
We’re here to bitch at the referees, throw a pillow at the television, call our “favorite” players and coaches the most grotesque names in the book, then ask them for an autograph when we see them at a restaurant. AFTER they finish eating.
We’re here to hate our job, but know that, God willing, it is leading us to something better.
We’re here to be entertained, to think and to be moved to tears. Jimmy V says you should laugh, think and cry everyday, and I think he knew what he was talking about. By the way, we are here to NEVER give up. I will fight, today I win.
We are here to judge you. It’s human nature. Wedge, Brown, Crennel, Vick, Pacman, Donaghy, Stern, Goodell, Selig, Bonds, Lohan, Spears, Hilton we are judging you right now. Get over it. The first thing we do when we talk to someone on the phone, see them in person or otherwise communicate with them is size them up. We just usually don’t publicize our judgment. Well guess what? You put yourself into the public domain, we put our judgment into the public domain. You don’t have to preside over a court to have that right.
We are here to laugh at George Bush when he says, “Too many OB/GYN’s aren’t able to practice their love with women all across this country” and then freak out when we realize he doesn’t get what he just said. Oh, and he’s our president.
We are here to play Coed sports, to win a Rec basketball league and feel good about ourselves, to mock people that blatantly ask for it, to agree with Carlos Mencia, to go see a “little kids” movie on opening night and then sneak into something else after for a double feature. We’re here to spoil the people we care about. We’re here to drink enough once that we never want to drink again. We’re here to make a kid feel good about himself, and we’re here to grin uncontrollably when a baby smiles at us.
We’re here to ridicule people who write about babies.
We’re here to associate ourselves with a character from Winnie the Pooh, or a Disney Princess or decide who gets to be Vince amongst our group of friends. We’re here to act like we’re one of the gang when we talk about last week’s episode. We’re here for “Let’s hug it out!” and “What is the deal with lamp shades?” and a Bill Cosby lecture that’s five minutes too long, but absolutely perfect. We’re here to get excited when superduperstars make cameos. “Is that something you might be interested in?”
We’re here to say please and thank you. We’re here to laugh at farts. We’re here to embellish our stories so that no one believes them, but heck, it makes us feel good. We’re here to give a speech that we are completely unprepared for, knock it out of the park and then treat ourselves to a nice lunch after.
We are here to start a slow clap, to give a big pump up speech, to pick up our opponent when we knock them to the ground and to tip our cap when they deserve it. We’re here to fall flat on our face. We’re here to sleep in the bed we’ve made.
We’re here to fall off the horse. We are here to get back on.
We’re here to post endless blogs and not give a damn what anyone else thinks.
“VICTORY!!!”
Be well.
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Posted in AJ, Life, Sports at 12:48 pm by AJ
In this time of point shaving, dog fighting and *records being broken* I think we as fans need to have a little bit of faith to keep us going despite the fact that our 3 major sports all have awful on going scandals. So without further adu… here’s a couple more beliefs…
I believe that guilty by association should apply in michael vick’s case
I believe that, despite the disgusting acts allegedly performed by vick, the the falcons will still be the most frequently picked team in madden 08 b/c people still love playing with him.
I believe that, despite the fact that he probably cheated, i hate his gut and i hope he gets hurt in a freak accident very soon, Barry Bonds is still one of the top 5 baseball players to ever walk this earth. so few people understand the difficulty involved in hitting a baseball whether your juiced or not and the fact that he’s done it so well for so long is still impressive. that being said i still hate his guts.
I believe that A-rod already hitting 500 homeruns should be near the top of the sportscenter hour but the yankees and royals highlights should never be played before at least 40 minutes into the show regardless of how many runs they score…. KC isnt even the best minor league team in the bigs (tampa bay) so beating them by 9 is expected…not impressive.
I believe Josh Barfield is, in some way, related to Omar Vizquel
I believe that the only man who truly knows how to coach in Cleveland is Romeo Crennel and that its a shame he’s going to be fired at some point this season.
along those lines….
I believe the only play Mike Brown knows how to call is 4-low
I believe that Eric Wedge doesn’t even know he’s actually at a baseball game and that if he had the sack to hit-and-run and bunt that the Indians would be the unquestioned front runner to win the world series.
After watching all of Fausto Carmona’s starts this year I believe that he will win the cy young award next year as the Indians ace
I believe that Notre Dame will be under .500 this year in football and I will love every minute of it.
-I believe USC will win the national championship again this year and win each game by an average 18 points minimun.
I believe that whatever team Jermaine Dye gets traded to will be in the world series
I believe The Simpsons Movie will live up to the hype and will win an oscar
Along those lines…other movie beliefs
-I believe “The Rules of Attraction” as the most disturbing first 20 minutes in cinematic history
-I believe Gerard Butler has the best character range in hollywood right now (He played the Phantom in Phantom of the Opera and King Leonidas in 300)
-I believe that the whole turning old comics into movies should stop (with exception to spiderman…keep making those) but the hulk, fantastic 4, iron man, etc… let them be
-I believe next years Sweeney Todd Directed by Tim Burton with Johnny Depp will win the oscar for best picture
-I believe Alan Rickman is one of the best actors of our time
-I believe JD’s right… weddings can be awesome…or not
last but not least… i believe in micro-fiber blankets… look into them
thats all for now
“Skepticism is the beginning of faith”
-oscar wilde
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07.24.07
Posted in Life, JD at 3:33 pm by jd
It’s been called the biggest day in a girl’s life. It’s the day when she gets to hand pick the people that will be staring at her. For some girls this is a tremendously big deal because they don’t get that kind of attention often. These “Ugly Ducklings” are transformed into a swan for the big day and for a moment, all is right in their world. For other girls, it’s just another day to be prettier than you, the “royal you” (even though she’s the Princess).
Well I’ve been to my share of weddings. I’ve seen girls from both sides of the spectrum revel and bask in being the center of attention, and most of them have been fantastic. They deserve it on their day. The grooms, by and large, don’t give a crap as long as their woman is content. We’ll leave it at that.
The thing is, when you plan a wedding, please, please, PLEASE keep the, umm, crowd(?) in mind. There are several things that can (and will) destroy your wedding, and you probably didn’t think of them, despite your detail oriented planning.
First and foremost, start on time. There is nothing worse than making people wait for you, especially when they paid money to get here and spend their time for you. They probably even threw some cash in a generic card they got at CVS on their way to the ceremony. The least you can do is honor that “One Thirty in the Afternoon on the Thirty-First of Smarch in the Lord’s year of Two Thousand Sixty-Nine.” [Side note: The Lord’s year?]
Moving forward with a Christian ceremony, we come to the readings. As a rule, if it’s from the book of Sirach, make sure it doesn’t talk about a gracious wife being a servant. Why, you ask? Because the moment you get into the brunt of this reading, each and every male in attendance between the ages of 15 and 31 will begin to snicker something in the vein of “And may your Pimp Hand remain strong.” Nothing kills the emotion of a beautiful ceremony like immaturity and choosing from this Book of the Bible sets yourself up for failure.
Along these same lines, inform the [insert Priest/Pastor/Rabbi/other appropriate Religious cleric here] to keep his preaching short and preferrably personal to the two of you as a couple. Noted: This works best if you’ve been a longtime member of the Church. If you are choosing to get married outside of a traditional religious setting, don’t worry about this part. For the sake of honesty, I’ll be forthright. We do not want to hear about the missions going on in Kenya or Indonesia and how the Priest has seen unconditional love in so many different ways, but that he can tell your servitude towards each other will stand the test of time. We don’t care. I was at a wedding this past week where the Priest spoke specifically with a message of small deeds being key to a successful marriage, noting two examples from the parents of both the bride and groom. That was committment to the speech. Good job by him, it was also under 5 minutes which is quite respectable.
Little kids can spoil a wedding with sudden outbursts. This, too, will make all the guys laugh and focus will be drawn off of the bride and how dare you! Simple fix, make absolutely sure there is a “cry room” or simply do not invite small children to the ceremony.
Establish clear parameters if you are using a full Ceremony. If people are not of your Faith, they probably should not be dining on your Lord, just ask Dane Cook. Make sure everyone is communicated to as to what parts they participate in, and when they should just sit out a few plays. We don’t need the Ryan Seacrest guy who just jumps in everywhere despite not belonging or being welcome. Go away, Seacrest. Go away.
Two more things and the mass nitpicking will be done. I love the presentation of flowers to Mary (Catholics). I love the smashing of the glass under your foot (Jews). I love the fat people prancing around (Greeks, ok I can’t back that up). What I don’t love is when these specific traditions take a really long time. For example, Ave Maria (which should now, thanks to mainstream media, be reserved for use in Mob Movies and videogames) when sung behind the floral rite, should not be sung in its entirety. The song is nearly 7 minutes long and that is WAYYYYYY too much time to stare at a statue (or at two people staring at a statue which is staring back at the crowd). Use the first verse and end it. Also, please employ a cantor who can really wail, otherwise this will be dreadful.
Finally, be unlike anyone named Bush and have a solid Exit Strategy. Instead of having the entire recessional of the whole wedding party then sending some Groomsmen back into the fray to clear ground, just have each wedding party pairing act as ushers letting a few rows exit as they walk by. It’s really your best option, guys, considering it’s your only option.
The ceremony is an extremely large deal, despite the fact that fewer people show their smiling faces at this event than the reception. However, the key to a banging wedding is to have the guests enjoy themselves in the limbo that exists between ceremony and reception.
In the interval between the wedding and reception, provide options of things to entertain guests; it doesn’t have to be elaborate. Maybe request that your parents host people at their home for a clean bathroom and some sandwich trays. If you have a hotel arranged for your guests, see if they have a bar/restaurant/hall, etc. where people can mingle and yes, have a few beers. Double points for a free shuttle to the reception (always good if everyone can have fun and be safe). Even if it means just recommending to guests that they meet up in between the wedding and reception at the hotel to pop a few tops, this will be an extraordinary touch that leads to happiness with the wedding as a whole. Plus, it’ll provide Diesel more time to seal the deal with some married chick attending sans husband.
The actual reception is pretty hard to screw up. Avoid the following things: Bad food (always taste test prior to the date), a bad DJ (ask for references), bad lighting (you’ve got to be able to see what you’re eating), great lighting (the not cute chicks will appreciate that), any song ending in the word “Slide,” prewritten speeches and most of all, Cash Bars. Always use the following: red skinned potatoes, buffet style serving (you get to take the leftovers home), preferrably a television somewhere close by and absolutely a must, Bon Jovi. Do those things and you’re golden.
For final touches, promote the post Wedding party at the hotel, you’re guests will love you, and arrange for pizza to be delivered around Midnight. What a classy touch. In keeping with the food theme, have a morning (not too early) brunch the day after and visit with everyone you missed the night before. It really bookends and validates their trip up, plus it makes guests more apt to stay overnight, and as we’ve said, that helps the Diesel find a certain special someone.
Weddings are great. Or not. It’s up to you.
Be well.
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07.16.07
Posted in Music, The Diesel at 3:31 pm by Diesel The
So Saturday night, on kind of a lark, Tommy Boy, myself, and our friend Rich end up at the House of Blues at the Sunset Strip, beer in hand, waiting for the opening act to take the stage at a Rusted Root concert. Yeah, I didn’t know they were still together either, but memories of listening to their first album at parties back in high school were too strong to ignore. So we ended up going. Why the hell not?
So the opening act comes on and, from the reaction of the crowd, I would bet money that not a single person had ever heard of them before. They turn out to be a three piece British band called Back Door Slam. This is a name, which, to me, means that they either, a) get angry when leaving and slam the back door of their homes; b) are fans of basketball, specifically the back door pass and slam dunk; Or c) fans of, well, I think you can guess the last one.
Here’s the crazy thing, though. They were good. I mean, really REALLY GOOD. The audience which had paid them no attention whatsoever at the start of the show, was cheering like crazy for them by the end. I even had goosebumps at one point.
As I said, they’re a 3 piece band. Bass guitar, drum set, and lead guitar and that’s it. Looking at the three of them, as Tommy mentioned during their first song, they didn’t look like they were in the same band. The bass guitarist, Adam Jones, looked straight out of an emo group with straight black hair, a tight t-shirt, and acting like he couldn’t care less. The drummer, Ross Doyle, was a bigger bald guy with a wacky hat (I’m guessing he was bald) and also seemed to just be chillin’. Davy Knowles, the lead guitarist/vocalist, though, is who blew everyone away. He was obviously the reason the rest of the band was there at all. He looked semi-grunge, jeans, button-down shirt, and disheveled Beatle-esque hair.
And this guy could play. As a guy with zero musical talent and zero actual knowledge of how to play any musical instrument, let alone a guitar, I can still say, with confidence, that this guy was GOOD. (It’s like pornography. “I know it when I see it; Or, that which gives me wood.”) (Thank you, Jon Stewart). I’ve been to a lot of concerts, good, bad, and everywhere in between, and I have never seen anything quite like this.
I’m not quite sure how to describe their sound. Definitely kind of a classic rock, bluesy vibe. Reminds me of Clapton with a little Hendrix and some Springsteen thrown in. But with a modern feel to it. After three songs, I leaned over to Tommy Boy and told him that, after having seen John Mayer*, the guy who has sold millions of records and is dating Jessica Simpson, that I was far more entertained by this guy. In fact, this is the kind of guitar player John Mayer wakes up in the morning wishing he could be (or thinks he already is).
At one point, the lead guitarist says they’re going to do a cover of a song BB King and Clapton did a few years ago, “Ridin’ with the King.” Now we already knew the guy was a good guitar player, but we didn’t know how good. So I made the comment giving the guy credit for his ambition. Not just anyone can do a song justice once it’s been performed by two of the greatest guitarists of all time. But that sonofabitch pulled it off. I said, “what’s next? Hendrix?” Yup. He actually pulled out a friggin’ Hendrix song and blew us away with that, too. Sickeningly good.
So they finished their set and everyone went wild. As they left the stage, strangers were turning to us to verify that yes, we did just see that. Rusted Root came on and only a few songs in, they called the lead guitarist out to jam with them. He completely stole the song. I’ve never seem someone play like that in my life.
And actually, Rusted Root was a fun show as well. It did indeed take us back to our high school days. I also love it when a concert doesn’t end until almost 1 am. We definitely got our money’s worth (Only downside: $6 for a can of Bud Light. Yes, I said “can”).
And we discovered a brand new talent. If you get the chance to see Back Door Slam live at some point, I highly recommend it. They just released their first album, Roll Away, a couple weeks ago. I think to really do them justice you need to see them live, but it will definitely give you an idea of their sound and talent.
It’s great discoveries like this, and the sharing of this discovery with a room full of strangers, that prove that there is nothing quite like the live concert experience . . .
*Yes, I attended a concert at which John Mayer was performing. Okay, I’ve actually gone to 5 concerts at which John Mayer was performing. In my defense, the first two he was touring with Guster, the second two with Counting Crows, and the last one, with Ben Folds. All three of those bands rule and if Mayer was on last we left early every time. So there. Plus Mayer did that Chappelle’s Show sketch, so he can’t be all bad.
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Posted in Saved by the Bell, Life, Television, JD at 3:20 pm by jd
The following question has occupied my mind for no less than the last four minutes: Has this blog become a glorified diary for my eyes and words only? (”And now my empty chorus falls on empty ears…”)
My cat is old. I am almost 26 years old and this cat has been around for the vast majority of my formative years, it’s seen me in single digits. She even has an old person name, Phoebe (no, not after the famous Phoebe you’re thinking of). Most people would agree when I say that the cat’s eating habits over the years have been more Ralphie May than my bulimic ex-girlfriend Ralphng Mae; however, all’s changed with old age.
Phoebe’s become increasingly finicky when it comes to her food. Perhaps it’s because we spoiled her with favorites such as Little Debbie Donut Sticks, blueberry muffins and her favorite, cold cut turkey. Perhaps it’s because she saw her reflection in the mirror and decided it was time for a change. Perhaps she didn’t feel attractive enough when my sister brought her younger cats (Daven and Sofie) to live at the house for a while (she wanted to be the Demi Moore to Daven’s Ashton Kutcher). Most probably, she’s just getting old and doesn’t feel like eating anymore. Mind you, this is the cat who employs the dip-your-paw-into-the-water then lick-your-paw rather than the more conventional face-in-bowl, tongue-in-water technique for drinking.
We’ve tried everything lately to get the cat eating again. “Everything” in this case includes switching food brands, switching from dry to wet food, mixing dry and wet, covering the food (dry and wet) with turkey gravy from Thanksgiving Dinner, we even tried setting a place for the cat at the table (ok, no we didn’t). All of our efforts have gone for naught; they’ve been roughly as effective as Britney Spears’ parenting techniques.
So we’ve hit a rough patch. Whiskas was whisked away. Friskies lost their frisk. 9 lives? Not anymore, Phoebe shot them down. Now we’re down to our last ditch effort. It’s once again time to place a call to the bullpen and all we have sitting out there is Jose Mesa. Now I’ll throw this out there, I hate Jose Mesa for a plethora of reasons, and the figurative version is no exception. I’ll try to be brief, and in doing so, I must return to Saved by the Bell (note to Webmaster: can you make SBTB a category for me already?). [EDITOR’S NOTE: Done.] Each morning when I watch the show, I get numerous commercials that irritate me based on either content, lack of focus on target demographic or some combination thereof. Examples of this are 1-800-PET-MEDS, Gold Bond Medicated Pads and one of the worst, J.G. Wentworth. I swear if I have to hear one more time about cash for my structured settlement, I’ll go Ron Artest on the guy. That said, the worst commercial of all is for Fancy Feast Cat Food. Come on now. This is your target market? The majority viewership for these re-runs HAS TO BE mid 20’s and younger kids before school or work starts, what kind of advertising is this?!?! Shouldn’t Toucan Sam, Count Chocula and the EGGO guy be plastered on the screen? If I saw that in the morning, I’d immediately run out for some cereal. But back to the Fancy Feast, the Jose Mesa of cat food. This commercial instructs owners to “delight her with salmon florentine,” a “restaurant style” piece of grilled salmon that it is “simmered in a fragrant reduction” with greens; a dish that is apparently so tantalizing that humans find themselves pawing at their cat for a taste, a cruel and unusual reversal of fortune.
What does this all mean? Naturally, upon meandering past the cat’s bowl when leaving for work this morning, what do I notice? Fancy Feast, salmon florentine. The verdict is still out on whether the cat will enjoy it or not, but rest assured, if this persuades her to eat, I will not only be disappointed, but also on the verge of insanity. Remember when Brian (Fred Savage) realized his little brother Eric (played by real life little sib Ben) had been kidnapped by Boy in Little Monsters? I’ll be like that, feeling helpless and angry, but if she eats, I guess there’s a moral victory somewhere.
I love my cat and will be devastated when something happens to her, lets hope the Fancy Feast keeps her around for a while. Oh, and if you want to see the most hilarious website in the history of civilization, follow this cat around for a while. I promise you will not be disappointed.
And in all seriousness, Bulimia and other eating disorders are a devastating problem in this world today, and not just among felines. Go here to make a donation to the National Eating Disorders Association.
Be well.
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07.13.07
Posted in Life, Sports, JD at 12:20 pm by jd
At 12 years of age, I was at the height of my game. We’re talking .850 batting average, starting pitcher and shortstop on a playoff caliber baseball team, Houston. I remember vividly playing in the qualifier, my comrades and I carrying a solid 14-1 record in against our division rivals, and the only team we’d lost to, 15-0 Dallas. I went 4-4 that game and threw 4 innings of shut out ball. In the top of the 5th I singled home a run and Houston lead 1-0! The bottom of the 5th was a disaster. 4 runs on no hits, but probably 10 or so walks. We lost the game 4-1. It would be the last competitive game of baseball I played.
At 25, I’m trying to resurrect my hardball career. I’ve played informal home run derby and several seasons of old man softball at Softball World, but the best seasons of my life have come from Cleveland Plays, Coed Style.
This past season I played on “The Others” and we finished a solid 7-3 good for a third place tie in the league plus a coveted spot in the postseason. I’m sad to say that we went down in a blaze of glory to the number 1 seed House of Cues 11-7 which improved their overall record to 11-1. We fell to 8-4 including the postseason, still a respectable record. In fact, one season earlier our team was in a similar situation and managed to make the Championship game before losing a hard fought battle.
So my teams have been Coed studs, but my Old Men teams have been even better, making 3 consecutive final games and, much like the Philadelphia Eagles, coming up short each time. But my greatness aside, I’d like to briefly evaluate the inner workings of the old men league, vs. the coed league, and I’ll do so by utilizing the five senses.
Ok, I’ve got my Tostitos Bite Size 100% White Corn Tortilla Chips, a bottle of water and the insatiable urge to pee, let’s knock this out.
SIGHT
The bravest are surely those who have the clearest vision.
Thucydides
At an Old Man’s League Softball game, you can expect to find any combination of the following items: Gatorade bottles, beer, Gatorade bottles full of beer, Ben Gay, Cigarettes, girls inexplicably dressed as dime store hookers cheering on douchebag guys wearing bandanas with cut off shirts thinking they’re cool, tons of bats in every dug out, umpires, scorekeepers and pin striped baseball pants. Lots of them. But the thing about the beer is that you usually can’t bring it from home, you have to buy it on site, and the people with multiple bats and baseball pants on are wearing them because you can expect head first slide, balls to the wall, “Game 7″ type play, every game. To lose is a tragedy, to win a must. Any deviation from the actual game plan could lead to a blow up of epic proportions, and you don’t even want to know about Rain Outs.
At a Coed League Softball game, many of the sights are similar. Beer is present, but usually is consumed from a plastic Dixie Cup or the can (complete with I Heart Fat Chicks beer cousy) and is purchased at the nearest gas station on the way to the game. The beer being downed can be no more expensive than $6.48 for a 12 pack, Coeds literally live the High Life. There is no Ben Gay and the only time you’ll find pinstriped baseball pants is when someone attempts to be funny and ironic. It works every time. There will be one bat shared by the whole team (on rare occasions possibly two). And on occasion, this bat is used by both teams. The promiscuous girls are wearing booty shorts and missing the balls in the outfield, then when its time to hit, the girls usually dribble the ball up the 3rd base line for an infield single (though undoubtedly there is always one team with girls who look & play like Lisa Fernandez, get out of their way NOW). Rain clouds are welcome, and the first thing you’ll see after the game ends is everyone scurrying off like Ants Marching to the bar.
SOUND
When money talks I hate to listen, but lately it’s been screaming in my ear.
Ben Folds
The sounds of softball are the same regardless of where you go. Cracks of the bat, balls hitting the fence after being thrown away, no calls by the ump on fair or foul balls and people cursing their own name. The difference? In the O.M. League, you’ll hear a lot more 4 letter words. Apparently umpires don’t like to hear that around ladies, so in the Coed League, you hear less swearing. No one needs a Coed Umpire so far up your ass that you’re starting to feel like Richard Simmons on date number 4.
SMELL
I love the smell of a woman’s armpit when she’s not wearing deodorant
Scott Caan
Is it just me or is this guy the male Paris Hilton? He has a career at all because his Dad is fantastic at what he does and he gets the least out of it that he possibly could. He was good in the Ocean’s movies though. The smells of softball are really 4 fold. Dirt, beer, cigarettes and liniment. To change these scents just because you add a gender would be akin to letting Dustin Diamond take over the role of Zack just for the Tori episodes. The scents are the same.
TASTE AND TOUCH
To combine taste and touch is to save time and space.
JD
Taste of softball is beer. Period. End of discussion. Touch in softball is high fives and butt slaps. If it’s coed, maybe you want to refrain from the butt slaps. There’s not a lot to say about these categories.
Moving on. There is one more specific difference between the two leagues. Anticipation. Both leagues anticipate certain opponents whether its for the challenge of facing an undefeated team, or the prospects of playing a team that the “Dane Train” plays for (The DT was a female player on Tony’s Hot Nuts that wore her uniform so well that comments such as “I can’t wait to ride the DT” or “I’ll let her see my locomotive anytime” were weekly staples, even if her team wasn’t playing that week). So what’s the difference? Old Man Leagues anticipate playing against other men, Coed Leagues the guys anticipate playing a team with good looking chicks (see above referenced slutty girls). Oh, and the ball is bright freaking Neon green so you think you’d be able to see it, even when it’s dark outside. Not the case at all. However, when a player misses a play because of the inability to see in a Coed league, that player is laughed at (unless it’s a girl because then they react emotionally and catty for the rest of the game) whereas in a O.M. League that player is chastised and benched.
Me? I’m happy just being on a field, regardless of which league it is. So… If you’d like to sponsor my comeback to hard ball, I am more than willing to take donations, drop me a comment and I’ll tell you where to make the check out.
But the thing you MUST remember is this: Any game played with balls and bats is fantastic and you should feel greatful just to be out there.
It’s an individual playing by himself, for his team. Or herself and her team, but lets be honest, the best thing a girl can usually do is stay out of the way! Was that wrong?
My father used to play with my brother and me in the yard. Mother would come out and say, “You’re tearing up the grass!” “We’re not raising grass,” Dad would reply. “We’re raising boys.”
- Harmon Killebrew
Be well.
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07.12.07
Posted in Life, Sports, News, JD at 2:26 pm by jd
The hell with you people, I like sports, we’re going to talk about sports. Because between Chris Benoit allegedly murdering his family, Michael Vick being heavily entrenched in a dogfighting ring and Pacman Jones/Tank Johnson’s inability to stay out of trouble, the sports world is becoming the benchmark for the term ridiculous.
With apologies to Cincinnati Bengals fans, the most absurd story happening in sports this year did not belong to their mindblowing arrest record; (notice Chris Henry’s resemblance to a young Snoop Dogg) no, those kudos go to Coach Tim Floyd at the University of Southern California, a man who just received a verbal commitment from a fantastic young basketball prospect in Illinois. The kid is completely dedicated to the sport, taking time to go on campus visits and workout for coaches instead of hanging out with friends all summer; and in his free time, he somehow picked a high school to attend! That’s right, this kid is just over a month away from being a Freshman… in High School. He won’t drive for another couple of years, but rest assured when he leaves the DMV, there will be a car waiting in his driveway.
Pardon my French, but what the #*^$!!!!
In fact, let me run that last symbol by you one more time $$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$. Remember in Blue Chips where the Larry Bird like dude said he wanted a gym bag full of money and marked the turning point where Nick Nolte finally decided, the hell with it, I’m going to pull a Barry Bonds and cheat (yes I know we weren’t talking about Bonds cheating back then)? This has to be the real life version of that exact occurrence.
Lebron’s Mom bought him an H2 a couple months before he was drafted, which was understandably possible because any dealer in their right mind was going to give her a loan. Did the following conversation actually happen between a sales rep and a manager?
Rep - Can I approve this loan for Lebron’s Mom?
Man - She has like NO income. Are you sure she’s going to be able to afford
this? Maybe sell her a used Plymouth Voyager instead? We can tint the
windows!
[AWKWARD SILENCE]
Rep - Uhh, yeah. She can afford it.
No, that conversation never took place because everyone knew what was going to happen in that situation. In two months you have a millionaire. But this is not two months, this is a 14 year old KID. One who’s never even played decent high school competition (AAU is the worst form of basketball you’ll ever see, possibly 2nd worst only next to the NBA). One who’s probably not even finished puberty; and who knows what will happen to his body during that process, not to mention over the next 4 years? Is this really something that a college coach is willing to gamble on? Does he feel he needs to recruit these kids so young? Especially when the coach is employed in Southern California?
“Hey 18 year old star basketball player, the most beautiful women in the world want you to come here, what do you say? You like cheerleaders? Ours are great!”
Wouldn’t this be your sales pitch? Wouldn’t this work for 90% of all heterosexual athletes even if other coaches decided to sweet talk them? Couldn’t you get any High School Senior to commit to that? Am I way off base here? This is my point about the Blue Chips money situation. When you recruit a kid that young, what can you say to get him to commit? “I’ll give you your very own set of Yu-Gi-Oh sheets?” No! There has got to be money being thrown around on this 14 year old. And the coach is jeopardizing his career for something that may or may not happen in the future? Is this accurate? Isn’t it true that if this coach gets caught giving money or gifts to any prospect, that it’s a rules violation and will result in the coach being canned faster than the intern in Ohio who lost several hundred thousand social security numbers? I’m so confused by this whole situation and I’m 11 years older than the kid! How does he have a Clue!?!?!
Forget about ramifications for the coach for a second, isn’t the kid basically mortgaging his high school years of friends, parties, football teams and any other extracurricular so that he can say he’ll go to USC down the road? Doesn’t this kind of eliminate the whole “It’s not the destination, it’s the journey” part of life? This kid isn’t going to be able to play other sports because what if he gets hurt? He’s not going to have a real high school experience at all.
This makes me sick. Listen, recruiting in college should be ILLEGAL. The NCAA has such a stick up its rear about so many other issues, and you can’t pay an athlete to play (even though D-1 sports is more of a job than the vast majority could possibly fathom, especially when you juggle whatever courseload you decide to take; i.e. underwater basketweaving), but it’s cool if a coach comes to a Rec League game to tell a 8th grader that he should go to college at his school? This is insane. Let the kid celebrate his good game with a Big Mac Meal or an ice cream cone and get back to coaching your grown men. You’ll be able to recruit him with real measures down the road. If you need help learning how, I hear Gary Barnett is available.
And we wonder what’s wrong with the world or why people outside our country hate us. Give me a break.
Be well.
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07.09.07
Posted in Life, Music, Celebrities, Tommy Boy at 12:58 pm by tommyboy
Few songs have captured the true human spirit more than Eddie Murphy’s “Party All the Time.” Collaborating with legendary wordsmith Rick James, Murphy created a timeless classic, one rich in literary wonder and enlightenment. I will now conduct a lyrical analysis to “Party All the Time” in the hopes to uncover the genius behind the words.
Girl I can’t understand it, why you want to hurt me
After all of the things i’ve done for you
Murphy and James aggressively begin the song in the first person, challenging the girl who likes to party all the time. By using “it” plus the qualifier, Murphy and James indicate the girl probably knows her fault, the “it”, and the qualifier becomes significant for our hero, Murphy. He is verbalizing his frustration more for his own benefit, which is carried through the song. Murphy introduces the notion that if you provide for the girl she should be appreciative if she really cared about you.
I buy you champagne, roses and put diamonds on your fingers
But still you hang out all night, what am I to do
OK, so Murphy has not only bought her expensive champagne and roses, but he is already at the stage of putting diamonds on her fingers. This relationship is serious and this girl is not treating the relationship with the respect it deserves by hanging out all night. Murphy has asked a rather introspective question, wondering what he should do in said situation. Should he buy this girl even more champagne and diamonds? Should he end the relationship? At this stage, he simply will confront his girl in song.
My girl wants to party all the time,
party all the time, party all the time
Murphy and James use triplicate structure to emphasize that this girl likes to party all the time. Now, instead of talking to the girl, they talk to us, the casual observer. They explain the difficult situation our hero is in, being in this relationship where one man buys this girl champagne and roses, but she never enjoys it because she is always out partying.
My girl wants to party all the time,
party all the time, she parties all the time
Murphy and James re-emphasize this girl’s partying nature through almost the identical triplicate structure, but really kicks it in by adding the pronoun “she” on the last phrase. This girl really parties all the time, and it drives our heartsick hero mad.
Whoooohooohoohoo (party all the time)
She likes to party all the time (party all the time)
Whoooohooohoohoo (party all the time)
She likes to party all the time (party all the time)
Murphy wails like a dog, crying for his master. Unfortunately, the dog’s master is a girl who likes to party all the time so she cannot attend to his needs. And then, in the parenthetical, James chips in. This is like bringing in the expert witness at trial. Rick James frequents a lot of parties, and can corroborate that this girl parties all the time. Thus, it’s not just one man’s potentially jaded perception of his relationship. We have a second opinion that confirms how this girl parties all the time. The repetition from two sources really drives home the point and helps us to feel the angst of our protagonist.
Girl I seen you at clubs, just hangin out and dancing
You give your number to every man you see
The narrative takes a significant twist in this couplet. Murphy and James return to addressing the girl and we now see that Murphy has followed his girl to the clubs. Maybe he asked one day, “What have you been doing?” And the girl says, “I was just partying.” Murphy replies, “You were partying all the time?” And she retorts, “Yes, I like to party all the time.” Murphy grows suspicious that the partying may be something more nefarious and follows her to the point that he sees her in the clubs. At first it seems innocent. She’s just hangin’ out and dancing. But the dancing leads to her giving her numbers out to strange men. Have they provided her with champagne and diamonds like our hero has? Surely not all of them. Why is she providing her number to every man she sees? She’s not very selective. Not only does she like to party all the time, she likes to flirt with a plethora of men, confirming the fears of our protagonist.
You never come home at night because your out romancin
I wish you’d bring some of your love home to me
This relationship just got a little crazier. This girl never comes home at night because she is out romancin’. She must just go home with a different guy every night. Is Murphy her daytime boyfriend? Or is he just one of the guys she went home with one time and he pines for her as if she is his girl? I suspect by the fact that he has bought her diamonds for her fingers that their relationship is significant - or at least it was - and her partying ways have escalated, now to the point that Murphy cannot take it anymore. But even though she’s out romancin’ every guy she meets, he really wants the relationship to last. It says a lot about Murphy’s desperation, but even more about this girl. She charms men like the Medusa, unable to let her go even when she parties all the time.
But My girl wants to party all the time,
party all the time, party all the time
Murphy and James return to triplicate structure to emphasize her partying, but now we know the partying may now mean partying sexually with every man she meets. By starting with “But,” Murphy and James are reasoning the notion introduced in the last line, that Murphy wants her to bring her love home. He is a conflicted lover, wanting to recapture the love they had when he provided her champagne and roses, but also struggling with her constant partying. The “But” seems to be Murphy’s inner voice, saying that he needs to let go of those irrational emotions and think logically. How can you be in a relationship with someone who parties all the time?
My girl wants to party all the time,
party all the time
She still parties all the time. Sh’s never going to stop. Now we have a duplicate structure, maybe because Murphy and James are fed up with her shenanigans.
My girl wants to party all the time,
party all the time, party all the time
My girl wants to party all the time
party all the time (hold) yeah
Murphy and James show that this girl really wants to party all the time. Murphy even holds the word time for what seemed to be an infinite length, suggesting that time literally has stood still because of her excessive partying.
party party party party party
The repetition of the word party emphasizes what this girl likes to do. Does she like to knit all the time? No, she likes to party all the time.
whoooooo
whoooohoohooo
Again more wailing like the lovesick puppy. This girl has truly broken Murphy’s spirit to a point beyond words.
she likes to party all the time
she lets her hair down
she likes to party down
James comes in for this last stanza, probably because Murphy has been too broken down by his girl’s partying ways. And James also adds in the nugget that she lets her hair down. Maybe this is part of her dual persona. To Murphy, she is prim and proper with her hair up, but when she parties her hair is down. She is a different person, clearly not the person Murphy fell in love with when he bought her champagne, roses and diamonds.
Unfortunately, Rick James is no longer with us and Murphy has not recorded a significant record since, but we will always have their epic story of unrequited love, unrequited because of a girl who couldn’t stop partying all the time.
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