Sports Guy had a chat yesterday on ESPN.com and there were many questions surrounding the Packers-Bears rivalry. For the first time in I don't know how long, I had to quit reading something Bill Simmons wrote. He basically dismissed the Packer-Bear rivalry, saying it wasn't a rivalry because they haven't been good at the same time on a lot of occasions.
He, and anyone that doesn't live in Wisconsin or Illinois just doesn't understand how much this game means. Teams being good doesn't make something a "rivalry". Having games on ESPN six times a year doesn't make something a rivalry. History, familiarity, locale and hatred make a rivalry.
Would a non-rivalry game produce what is reported to be the "toughest ticket in Chicago sports history"? Would a non-rivalry produce some of the classic You Tube videos I've just shown? Would a non-rivalry make me physically ill about an upcoming game? Can a matchup that pits two franchises against each other more than any other two teams in NFL history, and two teams with the most championships and hall of famers not be called a rivalry? The answer to all of these is NO.
The four games on the schedule every year that matter most to Packer fans are the two where we play the Vikings and the Bears. Admittedly the Viking rivalry was taken to a new level in the past 20 years, but that doesn't mean the Bears rivalry went away. And I would argue that today, the roles have been reversed pretty significantly. Someone that hasn't had an entire life of dealing with FIBS and living in NFL North country cannot understand. Just like I don't consider any other rivalry above Packers-Bears, even though there may be bigger ones. So I would kindly ask Bill Simmons to concentrate on what he knows: Boston sports, the NBA and pop culture references, and keep the Packers and Bears out of his mouth. Because he just doesn't understand.
Showing posts with label Bill Simmons. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bill Simmons. Show all posts
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Saturday Morning Live
I'm coming to you live from an office. An office deep inside a mountain-side bunker, somewhere in Northeast Wisconsin. Which, is fucking bullshit. At least I'm wearing a hat. For some reason, it only seems like I'm half working if I have jeans and a hat on. The goal is to get home by 1 for the UW-Indiana tip. It is a game that Bucky should win, at least on paper.
I want welcome those (maybe I should use the singular, "that guy") people here for the first time from the link on the JS Online "Fan Cave". You have to have been a follower or SportsBubble or some kind of nuclear physicist to actually get to the page to find our link, but it is a good page. Anyways, I hope you enjoy me writing, which I typically do much more when I'm not working on Saturdays. (And enjoy silence from the other four writers.) Oh, and O.J. was found not guilty by a jury of his peers.
I just realized that I'm pretty pumped for Olympic hockey. Olympic hockey is fantastic. I see the U.S. plays Tuesday afternoon, which means I can either try to DVR it, or I can watch it online and not work. Hmmmmm. (Can this be gambled on SportsBottle?)
I've seen the video of the luge guy over at Deadspin. It was gross. I probably shouldn't have clicked play. I'm not all worked up over the fact that they posted the video like some are, but I don't really want it up here due to the morbidity. If you don't want to watch it, don't. And shut up about the fact that the video is available to watch if you are so inclined. I hate people like that. (Can another luge death be gambled on SportsBottle?)
I READ A BOOK
After two months of blood, sweat and tears (maybe some other bodily fluids) I finally finished "The Book of Basketball" by Bill Simmons. If you like history/basketball/or the Sports Guy, I recommend it. Oh, and it helps if you can read and hold heavy objects simultaneously (700 pages!!!). If you can't do one of those things, the book probably isn't for you.
Next up on my reading list is Chuck Klosterman "Eating the Dinosaur", which is approximately 1,110 pages shorter.
IN VIDS NEWS
I think I've mastered College Hoops 2k8 to the point that it is getting boring. I'm on a 71 game winning streak with Creighton. I'm gunning for the record of 88 by UCLA. Probably time to get a new game. And yes, I play video games, and my wife lets me.
I want welcome those (maybe I should use the singular, "that guy") people here for the first time from the link on the JS Online "Fan Cave". You have to have been a follower or SportsBubble or some kind of nuclear physicist to actually get to the page to find our link, but it is a good page. Anyways, I hope you enjoy me writing, which I typically do much more when I'm not working on Saturdays. (And enjoy silence from the other four writers.) Oh, and O.J. was found not guilty by a jury of his peers.
I just realized that I'm pretty pumped for Olympic hockey. Olympic hockey is fantastic. I see the U.S. plays Tuesday afternoon, which means I can either try to DVR it, or I can watch it online and not work. Hmmmmm. (Can this be gambled on SportsBottle?)
I've seen the video of the luge guy over at Deadspin. It was gross. I probably shouldn't have clicked play. I'm not all worked up over the fact that they posted the video like some are, but I don't really want it up here due to the morbidity. If you don't want to watch it, don't. And shut up about the fact that the video is available to watch if you are so inclined. I hate people like that. (Can another luge death be gambled on SportsBottle?)
I READ A BOOK
After two months of blood, sweat and tears (maybe some other bodily fluids) I finally finished "The Book of Basketball" by Bill Simmons. If you like history/basketball/or the Sports Guy, I recommend it. Oh, and it helps if you can read and hold heavy objects simultaneously (700 pages!!!). If you can't do one of those things, the book probably isn't for you.
Next up on my reading list is Chuck Klosterman "Eating the Dinosaur", which is approximately 1,110 pages shorter.
IN VIDS NEWS
I think I've mastered College Hoops 2k8 to the point that it is getting boring. I'm on a 71 game winning streak with Creighton. I'm gunning for the record of 88 by UCLA. Probably time to get a new game. And yes, I play video games, and my wife lets me.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Hit Em Up
I'm sure there are like two people that got the mid 90's rap reference to the title of this post.
ANYWAYS (Stolen Literary Reference alert), the reason for this post is to break down Twinkies sudden love for all things purple, and dudes with diapers who play quarterback/coach their team/slap teammates' asses for fun/cram their cocks down media member's throats/and stab fan bases in the back.
First, I think I need to take a step back and try to rationally explain my hatred for the Vikings, as well as my hatred for this particular Viking team. I've always had a strong dislike for them, and as a Packer fan (really, I didn't just decide to be one five minutes ago) I choose to root against them regardless of what they are doing or who they are playing. Same with the Bears and to a lesser extent the Lions (only because they haven't been a threat for a decade). I wish ill things on the franchises as a whole. If they move to L.A. (when) I will throw a celebration. I might drive over to Minneapolis and piss on the Metrodome. I'm definitely not one of these people who take up rooting for "The NFC North" out of some bullshit divisional pride. Knowing that, I still can be fairly rational in my hatred for Packer rivals. When the Bears got to the Super Bowl a few years back, I hated it and I rooted against them harder than I would have if I didn't really care who won that much. But, it didn't ruin two weeks of my life. I didn't avoid sports media. I still looked forward to watching the Super Bowl. If they would have won, it would have stung a bit, but I would've gotten over it.
This Viking team is different and the hatred has risen to a new level due to He Who Shall Not Be Named. I'm not going to repeat all of my feelings except to say that everything bothers me more, and the fact that the media refuses to treat him like a normal player, despite the fact that I'm convinced that 99% of America now hates him and the Vikings, makes it worse. He alone is the reason that the Queens making a Super Bowl would ruin two weeks for me, and could possibly cause me to black out during the Super Bowl. And I would even consider skipping the Super Bowl for the first time since I can remember(I vaguely remember 1985 as the first one I watched). And I believe Twinkie is pretending to be a Viking fan just to piss me off. This is why, as a Packer fan, I feel that I am able to write this post.
With that out of the way, Twinkie is full of shit. I've known Twinkie in varying degrees since 2003. We hung out a lot during our final year at Creighton, and have communicated electronically quite often since graduation. I feel like I've got a pretty good handle for who he is. Might he be a sheep rapist (I was just helping it over the fence)? Maybe. You never totally know anyone I guess. The point is, I've watched NFL with him a few times in the mid-00's, and have certainly discussed it on a number of occasions. And until last Sunday with his bullshit "Thanks for the Quarterback. (insert some other bullshit about the Packers or Vikings)" text, I had never once heard him mention his affinity for the Viqueens. In fact, I distinctly remember him telling me that he was a Miami Dolphin fan. So my first question: What the fuck happened to THAT?!?!?
He uses Bill Simmon's "Rules for Being a True Fan" article to claim that because he was born in North Dakota or Montana or Canada or wherever the fuck he was born, and there was no NFL team, that he is justified in deciding now to root for the Viqueens just to piss me off. Here are a few quotes I pulled from this article.
"There's nothing worse than a Bandwagon Jumper. If sports were a prison and sports fans made up all the prisoners, the Bandwagon Jumpers would be like the child molesters -- everyone else would pick on them, take turns beating them up and force them to toss more salads than Emeril Lagrasse.) "
"19. Once you choose a team, you're stuck with that team for the rest of your life ... unless one of the following conditions applies:
-Your team moves to another city. All bets are off when that happens. In fact, if you decided to turn off that sport entirely, nobody would blame you.
-You grew up in a city that didn't field a team for a specific sport -- so you picked a random team -- and then either a.) your city landed a team, or b.) you moved to a city that fielded a team for that specific sport. For instance, one of my Connecticut buddies rooted for the Sixers during the Doctor J Era, then happened to be living in Orlando when the Magic came to town. Now he's a Magic fan. That's acceptable.
-One of your immediate family members either plays professionally or takes a relevant management/coaching/front office position with a pro team.
-You follow your favorite college star (and this has to be a once-in-a-generation favorite college star) to the pros and root for his team du jour ... like if you were a UNC fan for the past 20 years, and you rooted for the Bulls (because of MJ) and then the Raptors (because of Vince). Only works if there isn't a pro team in your area.
-The owner of your favorite team treated his fans so egregiously over the years that you couldn't take it anymore -- you would rather not follow them at all then support a franchise with this owner in charge. Just for the record, I reached this point with the Boston Bruins about six years ago. When it happens, you have two options: You can either renounce that team and pick someone else, or you can pretend they're dead, like you're a grieving widow. That's what I do. I'm an NHL widow. I don't even want to date another team.
-If you're between the ages of 20-40, you're a fan of the Yankees, Cowboys, Braves, Raiders, Steelers, Celtics, Lakers, Bulls, Canadiens and/or Oilers, and you're not actually from those one of those cities ... well, you better have a reason that goes beyond "When I was picking a favorite team as a kid, they were the best team, so I picked them." "
I don't see one single thing in there that justifies this fake fandom. Yes, he lives in Minnesota, but like 700 miles away from the Twin Cities. I guess my whole point is that you can't just drop the Dolphins. And you can't root for both. And you can't rely on Simmons to help you make your point. You are a poser and a bandwagon jumper.
One last thing that pissed me off. "Like you Packer fans wouldn't be excited to be in the NFC Championship" In response to Bear saying that the Twin Cities was acting like the Vikings had won the Super Bowl after they beat a team they were favored to beat, at home, after a bye week, that had won ONE playoff game in 13 years. Would Packer fans be excited? Absofuckinglutely. But Packer fans are smart enough to realize that getting to the NFC Championship doesn't mean anything. It means you get to play one more week. Packer fans are smart enough to not start to suck eachother's dick when we get to the SEMIFINALS. Not only that, but a real Viking fan (of which there is only two: Paul Allen and Ragnar) would be smart enough to know that historically, the Viqueens are fucking chokers, especially recently, in similar games (see 41-0, see Gary Anderson). They SHOULD be nervous as shit, NOT running around acting like they won something. Which is ANOTHER reason that you aren't a Viking fan. Vikings fans would be entitled to enjoy their South Beach vacation if they manage to get to the Super Bowl, but until they WIN a Super Bowl, it doesn't mean shit.
When the Vikings lose, all anyone is going to remember about this season is He Who Shall Not Be Named making an ass out of another franchise. It has been approximately 10 years since He DIDN'T completely melt down in the playoffs costing his team the game. And I am going enjoy the taste of tears when it happens.
To recap: I hate the Viqueens even more due to He Who Shall Not Be Named, Twinkie is a Dolphin fan NOT a Viqueen fan, Viqueen fans are delusional if they are that happy about one playoff win, He will stab the Viking franchise in the back too, Twinkie may or may not rape animals, I Hit 'Em Up, I am extremely white.
GEAUX SAINTS!!!!!! What say you?
ANYWAYS (Stolen Literary Reference alert), the reason for this post is to break down Twinkies sudden love for all things purple, and dudes with diapers who play quarterback/coach their team/slap teammates' asses for fun/cram their cocks down media member's throats/and stab fan bases in the back.
First, I think I need to take a step back and try to rationally explain my hatred for the Vikings, as well as my hatred for this particular Viking team. I've always had a strong dislike for them, and as a Packer fan (really, I didn't just decide to be one five minutes ago) I choose to root against them regardless of what they are doing or who they are playing. Same with the Bears and to a lesser extent the Lions (only because they haven't been a threat for a decade). I wish ill things on the franchises as a whole. If they move to L.A. (when) I will throw a celebration. I might drive over to Minneapolis and piss on the Metrodome. I'm definitely not one of these people who take up rooting for "The NFC North" out of some bullshit divisional pride. Knowing that, I still can be fairly rational in my hatred for Packer rivals. When the Bears got to the Super Bowl a few years back, I hated it and I rooted against them harder than I would have if I didn't really care who won that much. But, it didn't ruin two weeks of my life. I didn't avoid sports media. I still looked forward to watching the Super Bowl. If they would have won, it would have stung a bit, but I would've gotten over it.
This Viking team is different and the hatred has risen to a new level due to He Who Shall Not Be Named. I'm not going to repeat all of my feelings except to say that everything bothers me more, and the fact that the media refuses to treat him like a normal player, despite the fact that I'm convinced that 99% of America now hates him and the Vikings, makes it worse. He alone is the reason that the Queens making a Super Bowl would ruin two weeks for me, and could possibly cause me to black out during the Super Bowl. And I would even consider skipping the Super Bowl for the first time since I can remember(I vaguely remember 1985 as the first one I watched). And I believe Twinkie is pretending to be a Viking fan just to piss me off. This is why, as a Packer fan, I feel that I am able to write this post.
With that out of the way, Twinkie is full of shit. I've known Twinkie in varying degrees since 2003. We hung out a lot during our final year at Creighton, and have communicated electronically quite often since graduation. I feel like I've got a pretty good handle for who he is. Might he be a sheep rapist (I was just helping it over the fence)? Maybe. You never totally know anyone I guess. The point is, I've watched NFL with him a few times in the mid-00's, and have certainly discussed it on a number of occasions. And until last Sunday with his bullshit "Thanks for the Quarterback. (insert some other bullshit about the Packers or Vikings)" text, I had never once heard him mention his affinity for the Viqueens. In fact, I distinctly remember him telling me that he was a Miami Dolphin fan. So my first question: What the fuck happened to THAT?!?!?
He uses Bill Simmon's "Rules for Being a True Fan" article to claim that because he was born in North Dakota or Montana or Canada or wherever the fuck he was born, and there was no NFL team, that he is justified in deciding now to root for the Viqueens just to piss me off. Here are a few quotes I pulled from this article.
"There's nothing worse than a Bandwagon Jumper. If sports were a prison and sports fans made up all the prisoners, the Bandwagon Jumpers would be like the child molesters -- everyone else would pick on them, take turns beating them up and force them to toss more salads than Emeril Lagrasse.) "
"19. Once you choose a team, you're stuck with that team for the rest of your life ... unless one of the following conditions applies:
-Your team moves to another city. All bets are off when that happens. In fact, if you decided to turn off that sport entirely, nobody would blame you.
-You grew up in a city that didn't field a team for a specific sport -- so you picked a random team -- and then either a.) your city landed a team, or b.) you moved to a city that fielded a team for that specific sport. For instance, one of my Connecticut buddies rooted for the Sixers during the Doctor J Era, then happened to be living in Orlando when the Magic came to town. Now he's a Magic fan. That's acceptable.
-One of your immediate family members either plays professionally or takes a relevant management/coaching/front office position with a pro team.
-You follow your favorite college star (and this has to be a once-in-a-generation favorite college star) to the pros and root for his team du jour ... like if you were a UNC fan for the past 20 years, and you rooted for the Bulls (because of MJ) and then the Raptors (because of Vince). Only works if there isn't a pro team in your area.
-The owner of your favorite team treated his fans so egregiously over the years that you couldn't take it anymore -- you would rather not follow them at all then support a franchise with this owner in charge. Just for the record, I reached this point with the Boston Bruins about six years ago. When it happens, you have two options: You can either renounce that team and pick someone else, or you can pretend they're dead, like you're a grieving widow. That's what I do. I'm an NHL widow. I don't even want to date another team.
-If you're between the ages of 20-40, you're a fan of the Yankees, Cowboys, Braves, Raiders, Steelers, Celtics, Lakers, Bulls, Canadiens and/or Oilers, and you're not actually from those one of those cities ... well, you better have a reason that goes beyond "When I was picking a favorite team as a kid, they were the best team, so I picked them." "
I don't see one single thing in there that justifies this fake fandom. Yes, he lives in Minnesota, but like 700 miles away from the Twin Cities. I guess my whole point is that you can't just drop the Dolphins. And you can't root for both. And you can't rely on Simmons to help you make your point. You are a poser and a bandwagon jumper.
One last thing that pissed me off. "Like you Packer fans wouldn't be excited to be in the NFC Championship" In response to Bear saying that the Twin Cities was acting like the Vikings had won the Super Bowl after they beat a team they were favored to beat, at home, after a bye week, that had won ONE playoff game in 13 years. Would Packer fans be excited? Absofuckinglutely. But Packer fans are smart enough to realize that getting to the NFC Championship doesn't mean anything. It means you get to play one more week. Packer fans are smart enough to not start to suck eachother's dick when we get to the SEMIFINALS. Not only that, but a real Viking fan (of which there is only two: Paul Allen and Ragnar) would be smart enough to know that historically, the Viqueens are fucking chokers, especially recently, in similar games (see 41-0, see Gary Anderson). They SHOULD be nervous as shit, NOT running around acting like they won something. Which is ANOTHER reason that you aren't a Viking fan. Vikings fans would be entitled to enjoy their South Beach vacation if they manage to get to the Super Bowl, but until they WIN a Super Bowl, it doesn't mean shit.
When the Vikings lose, all anyone is going to remember about this season is He Who Shall Not Be Named making an ass out of another franchise. It has been approximately 10 years since He DIDN'T completely melt down in the playoffs costing his team the game. And I am going enjoy the taste of tears when it happens.
To recap: I hate the Viqueens even more due to He Who Shall Not Be Named, Twinkie is a Dolphin fan NOT a Viqueen fan, Viqueen fans are delusional if they are that happy about one playoff win, He will stab the Viking franchise in the back too, Twinkie may or may not rape animals, I Hit 'Em Up, I am extremely white.
GEAUX SAINTS!!!!!! What say you?
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Never Not Good
Probably the sole reason that I read every Simmons article. The Vegas Running Diary. Also, ALL Vegas running diaries are great. And if you don't think I'm doing one in October, you are dead wrong. One of the guys (complete stranger) we are going with wrote one that took me like 5 days to read, although I can't find the link.
Friday, January 30, 2009
Color Blind
I'm going to start out by saying two things. 1) This could potentially be a bad idea to write about. 2) I don't think this makes me racist, and I'm going to go ahead and assume that more than 50% of the 4 people that read this blog have thought these two exact things.
Last night, I was watching the #19 St. Mary's-#13 Gonzaga game (until I fell asleep at halftime). I swear that I've seen St. Mary's play at least 3 times in the past two years, and was pretty sure I knew what Australian sophomore PG Patty Mills looked like. I guess I hadn't paid that much attention, because last night I realized that he wasn't white. I guess I must have just assumed he was white for various reasons. 1) He's Aussie, 2) His name is Patty Mills, 3) He plays for St. Mary's, 4) He is a three point gunner, 5) I guess I've never seen a picture of him. Either way, I was surprised to find this out. This is like the reverse of Bill Simmons's "Reggie Cleveland All-Stars".
If you hadn't seen the game between #2 Duke and #13 Wake Forest on Wednesday night, and I told you that a guy that hailed from Cheyenne, Wyoming hit the game winning shot, your brain would've almost automatically assumed the same thing I thought about Patty Mills. Instead of the name/school/position/nationality assuming skin color, it was his home town. This isn't to single out Wyoming in particular. It could've been Montana, Idaho, North Dakota, South Dakota, Maine, New Hampshire, Vermont or Green Bay, Wisconsin and I would've guessed the same thing.
I'm not sure of my point other than it is interesting what one's brain imagines a person looks like based on stereotypes.
IN OTHER NEWS:
Does anyone REALLY fucking believe that fucking Italian citizens can't tell the fucking difference between Pizza Hut Lasagna and real Italian Lasagna? Fucking fuck. I absolutely refuse to ever think about eating that shit based on principal. I guess real Italian pasta is served out of a fucking tin foil pan. I GUESS I can buy that some dipshit New Yorker's could concievably believe it, although definitely not people that have been to a fancy Italian restaurant. Someone that lives in Green Bay could think that, because alot of people here feel that Olive Garden is the standard against which all Italian food should be judged. I'm going to go out on a limb though, and say that Pizza Hut falls somewhere between Chef Boyardee and Olive Garden. I just don't get it. The claims are ludicrous. Now they are claiming people can't tell the difference between their greasy ass delivery pizza and gourmet Italian pizza, which is miles beyond stupid. The commercials that Pizza Hut is throwing onto the American public are somewhere in the range of diet pill commercials in terms of believability. I bet Italians would be even more pissed that Pizza Hut gathered a bunch of people to pretend they couldn't tell the difference between fake pasta and real shit. I don't know why this pisses me off so much.
Last night, I was watching the #19 St. Mary's-#13 Gonzaga game (until I fell asleep at halftime). I swear that I've seen St. Mary's play at least 3 times in the past two years, and was pretty sure I knew what Australian sophomore PG Patty Mills looked like. I guess I hadn't paid that much attention, because last night I realized that he wasn't white. I guess I must have just assumed he was white for various reasons. 1) He's Aussie, 2) His name is Patty Mills, 3) He plays for St. Mary's, 4) He is a three point gunner, 5) I guess I've never seen a picture of him. Either way, I was surprised to find this out. This is like the reverse of Bill Simmons's "Reggie Cleveland All-Stars".
If you hadn't seen the game between #2 Duke and #13 Wake Forest on Wednesday night, and I told you that a guy that hailed from Cheyenne, Wyoming hit the game winning shot, your brain would've almost automatically assumed the same thing I thought about Patty Mills. Instead of the name/school/position/nationality assuming skin color, it was his home town. This isn't to single out Wyoming in particular. It could've been Montana, Idaho, North Dakota, South Dakota, Maine, New Hampshire, Vermont or Green Bay, Wisconsin and I would've guessed the same thing.
I'm not sure of my point other than it is interesting what one's brain imagines a person looks like based on stereotypes.
IN OTHER NEWS:
Does anyone REALLY fucking believe that fucking Italian citizens can't tell the fucking difference between Pizza Hut Lasagna and real Italian Lasagna? Fucking fuck. I absolutely refuse to ever think about eating that shit based on principal. I guess real Italian pasta is served out of a fucking tin foil pan. I GUESS I can buy that some dipshit New Yorker's could concievably believe it, although definitely not people that have been to a fancy Italian restaurant. Someone that lives in Green Bay could think that, because alot of people here feel that Olive Garden is the standard against which all Italian food should be judged. I'm going to go out on a limb though, and say that Pizza Hut falls somewhere between Chef Boyardee and Olive Garden. I just don't get it. The claims are ludicrous. Now they are claiming people can't tell the difference between their greasy ass delivery pizza and gourmet Italian pizza, which is miles beyond stupid. The commercials that Pizza Hut is throwing onto the American public are somewhere in the range of diet pill commercials in terms of believability. I bet Italians would be even more pissed that Pizza Hut gathered a bunch of people to pretend they couldn't tell the difference between fake pasta and real shit. I don't know why this pisses me off so much.
Monday, June 16, 2008
Stolen Literary Device
I am ganking the "running diary" used most often by Bill Simmons. I don't think he has a patent. Whatever.
Saturday
6:15 a.m.: Wake my ass up to cash in on the race I signed up to run.
7:40 a.m.: Arrive to the race to the throngs of people (15,000 plus).
8a.m.: Trip over about 4,000 of those people at the start as I start off way too fast. Most of those little fuckers were about 7 years old who would proceed to sprint past me and then come to a dead stop in front of me for the next hour.
9:08 a.m.: We finish. Sweat from front to back of my shirt.
9:45 a.m.: Begin cracking the whip on the wife to hurry up so I can go drink.
11:06 a.m.: Whomever had 11:06 a.m. in the "When would Juice would spill something on his new white Ryan Braun jersey" pool. Congrats.
11:45 a.m.: We leave for Milwaukee.
2:15 p.m.: Arrive in Milwaukee.
3:00 p.m.: Arrive at Miller Park. I miraculously get out of driving due to my buddy's girlfriend's dad and his 7 seat Lincoln Navigator that gets our group to the game. Kudos to that shit.
3:00 p.m. and 3 seconds: Crack the first Miller Lite.
4:30 p.m.: I have the best brat I've ever had in my life.
5:30 p.m.: A random fucking thunderstorm strikes 40,000 in the parking lot. Despite seeing the clouds loom for an hour, and watching the dome close, nobody budged until it was raining sideways. Even the Twins fans.
6:00 p.m.: Arrive in seat with a 7 dollar beer.
Around here is where it gets hazy. I know I had about 3 or 4 more large beers. I know I won one of those on a bet of the 5th inning score with some asshole Twins fan. Oh, and the split was about 50/50, which is not fun when your team loses.
ANYWAYS (another stolen literary device, thanks Chuck Klosterman), I semi-blacked out somewhere between the 8th and 12th innings. I was able to keep my motor function: walking, talking, etc. I was just super wobbly and profane (apparently, and not all that surprisingly). Either way, the wife put the kabosh to any further drinking, and probably saved my life and a Monday morning hangover. Managed to fight off a good vomit the next morning and after a two hour nap I was no worse for the wear.
One Blacked out Man's thoughts on the game: I may have imagined this but Yost had no problem throwing Torres out there for 2 1/3 in a non-save situation. Then sent out Tavaras for a second inning in lieu of Mota, DiFelice and Dillard. There was no real reason for this, but Neddy claims he didn't want to "put a rookie out there with the game on the line" (even though like two days ago he put Dillard out there in a one run game) and "Mota pitched two innings on Wednesday" but "he would've pitched him in the 13th." Then said "I don't worry about the next day, I was playing to win."
He pretty much contradicted himself in everything he said a) in the same day AND b) like two days earlier when he refused to use Mota in the 8TH because it wasn't a "save situation".
Fucking prick held onto his job because of the win yesterday.
In other news:
Tiger's putt yesterday was one of the first times I can remember jumping off the couch and yelling while watching golf. I watched about half of the playoff round online at work. USOpen.com was about the coolest website ever. Live TV coverage online for free, and it was pretty crystal clear. It was a lot better than March Madness On Demand, which used to be the best thing ever.
Saturday
6:15 a.m.: Wake my ass up to cash in on the race I signed up to run.
7:40 a.m.: Arrive to the race to the throngs of people (15,000 plus).
8a.m.: Trip over about 4,000 of those people at the start as I start off way too fast. Most of those little fuckers were about 7 years old who would proceed to sprint past me and then come to a dead stop in front of me for the next hour.
9:08 a.m.: We finish. Sweat from front to back of my shirt.
9:45 a.m.: Begin cracking the whip on the wife to hurry up so I can go drink.
11:06 a.m.: Whomever had 11:06 a.m. in the "When would Juice would spill something on his new white Ryan Braun jersey" pool. Congrats.
11:45 a.m.: We leave for Milwaukee.
2:15 p.m.: Arrive in Milwaukee.
3:00 p.m.: Arrive at Miller Park. I miraculously get out of driving due to my buddy's girlfriend's dad and his 7 seat Lincoln Navigator that gets our group to the game. Kudos to that shit.
3:00 p.m. and 3 seconds: Crack the first Miller Lite.
4:30 p.m.: I have the best brat I've ever had in my life.
5:30 p.m.: A random fucking thunderstorm strikes 40,000 in the parking lot. Despite seeing the clouds loom for an hour, and watching the dome close, nobody budged until it was raining sideways. Even the Twins fans.
6:00 p.m.: Arrive in seat with a 7 dollar beer.
Around here is where it gets hazy. I know I had about 3 or 4 more large beers. I know I won one of those on a bet of the 5th inning score with some asshole Twins fan. Oh, and the split was about 50/50, which is not fun when your team loses.
ANYWAYS (another stolen literary device, thanks Chuck Klosterman), I semi-blacked out somewhere between the 8th and 12th innings. I was able to keep my motor function: walking, talking, etc. I was just super wobbly and profane (apparently, and not all that surprisingly). Either way, the wife put the kabosh to any further drinking, and probably saved my life and a Monday morning hangover. Managed to fight off a good vomit the next morning and after a two hour nap I was no worse for the wear.
One Blacked out Man's thoughts on the game: I may have imagined this but Yost had no problem throwing Torres out there for 2 1/3 in a non-save situation. Then sent out Tavaras for a second inning in lieu of Mota, DiFelice and Dillard. There was no real reason for this, but Neddy claims he didn't want to "put a rookie out there with the game on the line" (even though like two days ago he put Dillard out there in a one run game) and "Mota pitched two innings on Wednesday" but "he would've pitched him in the 13th." Then said "I don't worry about the next day, I was playing to win."
He pretty much contradicted himself in everything he said a) in the same day AND b) like two days earlier when he refused to use Mota in the 8TH because it wasn't a "save situation".
Fucking prick held onto his job because of the win yesterday.
In other news:
Tiger's putt yesterday was one of the first times I can remember jumping off the couch and yelling while watching golf. I watched about half of the playoff round online at work. USOpen.com was about the coolest website ever. Live TV coverage online for free, and it was pretty crystal clear. It was a lot better than March Madness On Demand, which used to be the best thing ever.
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