I know what you're saying. "Pinto? I thought his middle name was Michael!" Yeah, that might be what his birth certificate and the government says. But based on his latest string of performances, I think Pinto is more approriate, eh? He erupts and explodes into a ball of fiery, sloppy, ugly pitches at any given moment, usually within the first inning, and most likely resulting in at least one home run.
Game two of the series against the Pittsburgh Pirates continues tonight, and we're down 0-1. Cole's 7-8 with an ERA of 4.78. This month, hes 0-for-3 with a no decision on August 15th against the Atlanta Braves, and hasn't logged a win since July 28th against the Arizona Diamondbacks. As our "ace" making $4.35 million this year, I expect a little more. At 7:05 EST, he'll be facing the relatively comparable Paul Maholm.
Maholm, two years older than Cole at 27, is 7-7 with a 4.74 ERA. Even their strikeouts are in the same area - Maholm's 98 to Hamels's 119. Before his August 19th win against the Milwaukee Brewers, he either lost or had a no decision in every appearance since beating the Houston Astros on July 7th.
Sure, there's an impending baby on the way in October. Yes, we did just acquire Clifton Phifer Lee, who is currently kicking his stringbean butt up and down the basepaths, using his Hollywood hair as his personal sweatrag. Some (okay, most) may say that he's swiped his "ace" status from him in just five starts. I'm among those people. By no means is Cole very high up on The Brad Lidge Scale of Horrific, but if he keeps slipping down this slope, he's gonna be there in no time.
I don't know what's going on under that softy, shiny coif, but Cole, get your head on straight and knock 'em dead. Please, do anything you need to do to guarantee us a big enough lead to prevent us from a fifth straight night of Brad Lidge. Please?! If you don't, I won't have any hair or fingernails by this time tomorrow.
And for those who don't know of the mystique of the Ford Pinto (I'm too young as well, but I've seen a lot of those I Love the 70s shows...), check this out to see what all the rage is about.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
The Next Papier-Mache Butterfly?
Simon Gagne is hurt. Again.
Is anyone surprised? No? I didn't think so.
I love Gags and wish he could just stay healthy. He left Team Canada's Olympic camp yesterday with a "mild strain" to his right groin. He's injured, and we haven't even started our own camp yet! He's in Philly being examined this afternoon. I'm all for him making the Canadian team for the 2010 Olympics in Vancouver, but our team needs him too.
Last season I started calling Danny Briere my little papier-mache butterfly due to the fact that he seemed ever so delicate and his body parts could rip apart at any second.
Here's wishing Gagneezy avoids that fate in 2009-2010.
Is anyone surprised? No? I didn't think so.
I love Gags and wish he could just stay healthy. He left Team Canada's Olympic camp yesterday with a "mild strain" to his right groin. He's injured, and we haven't even started our own camp yet! He's in Philly being examined this afternoon. I'm all for him making the Canadian team for the 2010 Olympics in Vancouver, but our team needs him too.
Last season I started calling Danny Briere my little papier-mache butterfly due to the fact that he seemed ever so delicate and his body parts could rip apart at any second.
Here's wishing Gagneezy avoids that fate in 2009-2010.
Wagner to the Boston Red Sox
Billy Wagner is a rat, a clubhouse cancer, and a gnome-like, dispicable player. And he is now a member of the Boston Red Sox.
As much as I absolutely love and adore the BoSox, I refuse to ever, ever support Wags again on any team. Thankfully, the club has promised him to decline their club option for 2010, allowing him to sign wherever he'd like. Hopefully, that "wherever" is far, far away. Although the Phillies are my heart and soul, the BoSox are right behind. Luckily for me, the only real conflicts come during Interleague Play and if they happen to face each other in the World Series. Due to all of these factors, I'm not too peeved about their signing of the little bald goof. After Philly he stunk, anyways. The Sandman? More like The Whiner in the Sandbox at Kindergarten.
Oh, I almost forgot.
His agent's name is - get this - Bean Stringfellow. I love it. I just...I can't get over it. Bean Stringfellow. That's one for the books.
Welcome to Beantown, Wags. Now get the hell out once October is done.
As much as I absolutely love and adore the BoSox, I refuse to ever, ever support Wags again on any team. Thankfully, the club has promised him to decline their club option for 2010, allowing him to sign wherever he'd like. Hopefully, that "wherever" is far, far away. Although the Phillies are my heart and soul, the BoSox are right behind. Luckily for me, the only real conflicts come during Interleague Play and if they happen to face each other in the World Series. Due to all of these factors, I'm not too peeved about their signing of the little bald goof. After Philly he stunk, anyways. The Sandman? More like The Whiner in the Sandbox at Kindergarten.
Oh, I almost forgot.
His agent's name is - get this - Bean Stringfellow. I love it. I just...I can't get over it. Bean Stringfellow. That's one for the books.
Welcome to Beantown, Wags. Now get the hell out once October is done.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
An Open Letter to...Brad Lidge
Dearest Bradley Thomas Lidge,
You know what I want to discuss.
Let me preface this. I always have the Phaith. I believe we can battle back from 10-0 deficits. I believe Ryan Howard can avoid striking out for the 16th time in five innings. We can do it, always. What? Donovan McNabb won't throw that pass 15 yards short and straight into the grass, nor will he vomit on-field, on-screen in key situations. Randy Jones will have a good game, and if the heavens smile on us, maybe he'll make a few good hits, too! I am the definition of Phaith. If you didn't stay perfect last year, a few blown saves last and this wouldn't seem like the Apocalypse. Unfortunately, you've decided to lump all your failure into key moments of this season, and have blown games in the true Philadelphia way - ridiculous, comical, unfathomable ways. I almost never boo a player.
This was just a matter of time. Tonight, your team, the Phillies kicked off a three-game series against the Pittsburgh Pirates in da 'Burgh. (Pittsburgh seems to be a recurring theme on here, eh?) I live and breathe baseball, but 99% of the time I forget the Pirates even exist. It's as simple as that. Some team in Pittsburgh needs to suck, and it's not the Penguins or the Steelers, so the Buccos need to carry the suck for all three teams. As fantastic as he was, the Roberto Clemente days are long gone.
Tonight, after early scoring including two first-pitch homers from Jimmy Rollins, we looked like we were in good shape. Now, as any Philadelphia fan will tell you, no lead is ever safe. Nothing. Ever. No matter what sport. We expect to piss away leads, and when we don't, we're shocked. Soon the game was evened up, then the Pirates took the lead 3-2. After blowing some prime scoring opportunities, Carlos Ruiz doubled, followed by an RBI pinch double from former Cleveland Indian Ben Francisco, and that was followed by a strikeout from J-Roll (that's fine, he did enough tonight), and an RBI triple from Shane Victorino. If you're keeping score at home, kids, that's a 4-3 lead.
Which brings us to every Phillies fan's new current worst nightmare - YOU.
Brad, after tonight's diarrhea of a performance, I am happy I saved that $200 and didn't buy your jersey.
I understand you cannot win all 162 games. There will be insane finishes, good and bad. Every pitch is a turning point. That's what I love about this game. I can handle losses - there are always ups and downs. In the end, despite how much anyone loves it, it's just a game. The players go home, eat dinner, scratch their butts, and lay around like any normal person. (Except Cliff Lee. I believe he merely floats around, angelic.)
I do not love when men who are paid ridiculous sums of money to pitch one inning - three people! - do absolute shit. I hate even more that Cholly trots you out there like a show pony who is clearly past their prime, shitty job about shitty job, and expects Brad Lidge of 2008. I know Cholly has to have the Phaith, but there's a line between Phaith and Ridiculousity. (I know. I make words up sometimes.)
I cannot remember the last time I felt so angry over the ending of a game. I want to tackle you like a sled tackle used in football practice.
I'm sorry. I can't even bring myself to recap the inning, it was that horrific. It was a monstrosity, but who am I telling - you made it happen! It would have been horrendous no matter what team, but the PIRATES?! REALLY?! This has to be some cruel, cruel joke.
There's hundreds of thousands of people who probably could pitch better than you right now. In part, I believe they are: my sister's cat; Sidney Crosby's playoff beard; Anne Boelyn; my twin 1-year-old nephews; the druggie two streets over; the 7-year-old on NBC10's evening news who turned a triple play in little league; Rick Allen, the one-armed drummer of Def Leppard; Bob Barker; Mariah Carey; Zdeno Chara; the Assistant Dean of my college; Bloody Mary the I of England; me with the medical boot I've got on; my 78-year-old grandmother; her 94-year-old husband; any member of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police (I heart Mounties); the list goes on.
Brad, you know that little video they show between innings, asking what you'd be doing if you weren't in the MLB, or when you retire? You always tell us you want to be a religious archaeologist. I say, go for it! Follow your dreams. You've already won a World Series, now put us out of our misery. At this rate, none of us will ever miss you. Please. I beg of you. Just go. Don't even bother to send us a postcard.
Thanks for the memories
-McKey.
You know what I want to discuss.
Let me preface this. I always have the Phaith. I believe we can battle back from 10-0 deficits. I believe Ryan Howard can avoid striking out for the 16th time in five innings. We can do it, always. What? Donovan McNabb won't throw that pass 15 yards short and straight into the grass, nor will he vomit on-field, on-screen in key situations. Randy Jones will have a good game, and if the heavens smile on us, maybe he'll make a few good hits, too! I am the definition of Phaith. If you didn't stay perfect last year, a few blown saves last and this wouldn't seem like the Apocalypse. Unfortunately, you've decided to lump all your failure into key moments of this season, and have blown games in the true Philadelphia way - ridiculous, comical, unfathomable ways. I almost never boo a player.
This was just a matter of time. Tonight, your team, the Phillies kicked off a three-game series against the Pittsburgh Pirates in da 'Burgh. (Pittsburgh seems to be a recurring theme on here, eh?) I live and breathe baseball, but 99% of the time I forget the Pirates even exist. It's as simple as that. Some team in Pittsburgh needs to suck, and it's not the Penguins or the Steelers, so the Buccos need to carry the suck for all three teams. As fantastic as he was, the Roberto Clemente days are long gone.
Tonight, after early scoring including two first-pitch homers from Jimmy Rollins, we looked like we were in good shape. Now, as any Philadelphia fan will tell you, no lead is ever safe. Nothing. Ever. No matter what sport. We expect to piss away leads, and when we don't, we're shocked. Soon the game was evened up, then the Pirates took the lead 3-2. After blowing some prime scoring opportunities, Carlos Ruiz doubled, followed by an RBI pinch double from former Cleveland Indian Ben Francisco, and that was followed by a strikeout from J-Roll (that's fine, he did enough tonight), and an RBI triple from Shane Victorino. If you're keeping score at home, kids, that's a 4-3 lead.
Which brings us to every Phillies fan's new current worst nightmare - YOU.
Brad, after tonight's diarrhea of a performance, I am happy I saved that $200 and didn't buy your jersey.
I understand you cannot win all 162 games. There will be insane finishes, good and bad. Every pitch is a turning point. That's what I love about this game. I can handle losses - there are always ups and downs. In the end, despite how much anyone loves it, it's just a game. The players go home, eat dinner, scratch their butts, and lay around like any normal person. (Except Cliff Lee. I believe he merely floats around, angelic.)
I do not love when men who are paid ridiculous sums of money to pitch one inning - three people! - do absolute shit. I hate even more that Cholly trots you out there like a show pony who is clearly past their prime, shitty job about shitty job, and expects Brad Lidge of 2008. I know Cholly has to have the Phaith, but there's a line between Phaith and Ridiculousity. (I know. I make words up sometimes.)
I cannot remember the last time I felt so angry over the ending of a game. I want to tackle you like a sled tackle used in football practice.
I'm sorry. I can't even bring myself to recap the inning, it was that horrific. It was a monstrosity, but who am I telling - you made it happen! It would have been horrendous no matter what team, but the PIRATES?! REALLY?! This has to be some cruel, cruel joke.
There's hundreds of thousands of people who probably could pitch better than you right now. In part, I believe they are: my sister's cat; Sidney Crosby's playoff beard; Anne Boelyn; my twin 1-year-old nephews; the druggie two streets over; the 7-year-old on NBC10's evening news who turned a triple play in little league; Rick Allen, the one-armed drummer of Def Leppard; Bob Barker; Mariah Carey; Zdeno Chara; the Assistant Dean of my college; Bloody Mary the I of England; me with the medical boot I've got on; my 78-year-old grandmother; her 94-year-old husband; any member of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police (I heart Mounties); the list goes on.
Brad, you know that little video they show between innings, asking what you'd be doing if you weren't in the MLB, or when you retire? You always tell us you want to be a religious archaeologist. I say, go for it! Follow your dreams. You've already won a World Series, now put us out of our misery. At this rate, none of us will ever miss you. Please. I beg of you. Just go. Don't even bother to send us a postcard.
Thanks for the memories
-McKey.
Saturday, August 15, 2009
The Second Cold War
Semyon Varlamov, stud rookie goalie for the Washington Capitals, has been on my shitlist for about a week now. He was pretty high on a few of my lists: Favorite Rookies, Favorite Goalies, Favorite Russian Beefcakes...you get the idea. I even learned how to pronounce the kids name correctly when the Versus guys (...shudder...) couldn't be bothered!
I'm big into Twitter, and I follow NHLSnipers.com. When they posted this article, I was floored. Now, I know Ovechkin's said things about liking Russian women better, and I think that's pretty understandable. He never actually insulted American women - the ones who basically pay his salary and buy his jerseys - like Varlamov had.
In the article, Varlamov had this to say:
Have any personal admirers emerged?
“I have a true love, so I don’t look at any other women. You know, I’m extremely fortunate that I met a Russian girl in America. It’s difficult to look at a lot of the local women. You get the feeling that just don’t take care of themselves! There are an awful lot of heavyset ones. But Russian girls have nice trim figures. I couldn’t imagine myself being with an American girl.”
Oh my. Now, I don't believe myself to be a huge feminist, and I can roll with the punches. I can deal with the crap most men (and some women) give female sports fans. I can deal with the claims of "Oh, you must just want to find a rich husband." I can take that. What I can't take is some foreign punk rookie bashing American women, the same women who, like Ovechkin, pay his salary and buy his jerseys! I don't get it. I think it's totally okay for him to prefer Russian women over American women - if that's his thing, so be it. Good for him. There's no reason to say us American women are fat and none of us take care of ourselves! That's just a terrible generalization and a bold-faced lie! Apparently we're not good enough for him, but the success, fame, and money that our country offers him in the NHL is good enough! I'm 5' 9" and 110lbs., but this is so offensive on every level; it is so beyond the physical. I'm sure not every woman in Russia is a 5'10", 100lb goddess who does nothing but go to the gym. I'm sure those types exist there, just as they do here, but that's not the entire female population of the country.
I really liked the kid, and respected him.
I think I'm a bit more annoyed at him over this than I would be at someone like Ovechkin. I feel like Ovechkin is at least more established and has more influence, or something, I just don't know how to say it, but this kid - this kid, to me, is nothing but a little, immature boy. I just don't get how you can think this wouldn't get back to American fans? Granted I am sure there are more male fans than female but newsflash - we do exist!! Even if he'd lied and said "American girls are cool," fine with me. Everyone expects these guys to say the PC thing. Even if he did solely like Russian girls, just lie.
Don't make me have to cross you off all my lists.
DWright Injured - Oh No!
Just as I was preparing to start writing, my poor, poor David Wright was hit in the head by a pitch! Here in Philly, the Mets game is blacked out on my Extra Innings since Fox has all the rights to 4pm games. I saw the replays of it during my Phils game, and I feel terrible for him. He's my all-time favorite third baseman, and all around favorite outside of the Phillies. I sincerely hope he's fine and not blind or anything. I'm gonna try to keep getting updates throughout the day on him. I've been saying for week now that he's got a big ol red X on his back, since he's been the only Met starter to start every game this season. I didn't think he'd actually get really hurt!! Why couldn't he have made a silly misstep like falling down the dugout stairs a la Luis Castillo?? Poor DWright. As much as I want to see the Mess fail&DWright do well, I never ever want to see anyone seriously hurt. In the end, it's just a game.
In other "hit in the face" news, Brett Myers is out of today's game for the same reason. Apparently he was hit in the face by a ball at his son's game? That's New York Mess kind of luck. Not the kind we need!
At least if DWright is out for a few games, it'll save me some serious channel flipping between the games to see how he's doing.
In other "hit in the face" news, Brett Myers is out of today's game for the same reason. Apparently he was hit in the face by a ball at his son's game? That's New York Mess kind of luck. Not the kind we need!
At least if DWright is out for a few games, it'll save me some serious channel flipping between the games to see how he's doing.
Thursday, August 13, 2009
I Had a Good Run of Health...
I know this lil blog here is still just a baby, but there's a reason I haven't even attempted to update as much as I've wanted to.
In June I managed to twist my knee, and limped on my left leg to compensate. Well, like Philadelphia's oft-insane losses, I hurt myself in comical, ridiculous ways. The stress caused me to fracture the bone that goes over the top of my toes on my left foot. If I left it go just two days longer, it would have broken clean through the skin and severed the tendon that allows the rest of me to feel my toes. Gory, eh?
I did catch it in time, and am now rockin' a lovely black Velcro medical boot up to my knee for the next eight weeks!! It's definitely ridiculous. It's earned me the nickname RoboCop, as well as unending recitations of "We can rebuild him..." from The Six Million Dollar Man. This big ol' boot has made me the insta-terminator for all the lovely waterbugs and roaches that scurry around the outdoors of South Philly. (We used to be a swamp!)
I've been busy sleeping off the pain and elevating/icing it, and finishing up classes. I also work so on top of all of that, I just have had no time to post. I hope to get back as soon as I can though, y'all!!
In June I managed to twist my knee, and limped on my left leg to compensate. Well, like Philadelphia's oft-insane losses, I hurt myself in comical, ridiculous ways. The stress caused me to fracture the bone that goes over the top of my toes on my left foot. If I left it go just two days longer, it would have broken clean through the skin and severed the tendon that allows the rest of me to feel my toes. Gory, eh?
I did catch it in time, and am now rockin' a lovely black Velcro medical boot up to my knee for the next eight weeks!! It's definitely ridiculous. It's earned me the nickname RoboCop, as well as unending recitations of "We can rebuild him..." from The Six Million Dollar Man. This big ol' boot has made me the insta-terminator for all the lovely waterbugs and roaches that scurry around the outdoors of South Philly. (We used to be a swamp!)
I've been busy sleeping off the pain and elevating/icing it, and finishing up classes. I also work so on top of all of that, I just have had no time to post. I hope to get back as soon as I can though, y'all!!
Friday, August 7, 2009
Woo! It's First Post Time!
I've been tossing around the idea of starting a blog like this for quite some time now, and after the beating I've been taking as a Flyers fan for seriously loving Sidney Crosby's Cup win back in June I decided to go for it. And what better day to start it than on Sid's 22nd birthday?!
So, this is the first post to my first ever blog. I got the idea for this based on endless seasons of torture from friends and my own confusion. I am a born-and-raised South Philadelphian. I bleed orange and green, and I live and die by the Phillies W-L column (and Ryan Howard's horrific throws to second base, which always inevitably end up in CF. Oy.) As for the Sixers, I sort of lost interest when Kyle Korver went to Utah, and am currently wishy-washy on the entire NBA thing. Korver is actually the only NBA player I still follow, especially after the miserable Sixers season of 2008-2009.
Unfortunately, most of my "second favorites" come from my teams' rivals. Favorite baseball player outside of any Phillie? David Wright of the New York Mets. Favorite hockey player outside of any Flyer? Sidney Crosby of the Pittsburgh Penguins. In fact, the Pens are my second favorite NHL team, tied with the Anahiem Ducks (who aren't too much drama seeing as they're in a different conference). I own multiple Pens DVDs, and the Stanley Cup champs hat. I even jumped and cheered when they won the Cup, which I closely followed. I cheered for them the entire time, after I came out of mourning over that whooping they handed us in Game 6. In the NFL, the Tampa Bay Buccaneers don't provide too much turmoil on fall&winter Sundays, thankfully. My favorite Eagle, Stewart Bradley, is most likely down for the season, so watching the heart attacks they call games will be a bit tougher this season.
Baseball is perhaps my biggest area of contention. The New York Mets - or, as I prefer to call them, the Mess - are always on my tv, thanks to the Extra Innings cable package. I've got season tickets to the Phillies (as well as the Flyers), and live just a five minute walk from the park. I've been following DWright ever since his July 2004 MLB debut. In the AL, my favorite team is the Red Sox, and this seemed to only pose drama for me during the ALCS of 2008, if they would have won. My other AL team I enjoy following? The Toronto Blue Jays. I don't intentionally aim to root for all these conflictions, it just has fallen into place that way over the years. I will always root for Philadelphia over anyone else, even DWright and Sid the Kid.
As a female sports fan who also works and studies in the industry, it's always tough. I get a lot of crap from guys who think I only follow a player "because he's cute." It's true that I definitely can appreciate the good-looking guys in the sports I follow, and often I find my favorites attractive, but that is definitely not the basis for my fandom. I'm not ashamed to say that a player is hot, and I don't think I should be. I know what I'm talking about, and there's no reason I can't comment freely on it. Guys comment on female celebrities/athletes all the time (Anna Kournikova, anyone?), so why is it such a double standard? But I digress... Once they find out I actually know my stuff and am pretty hardcore, they lighten up considerably. I am the first one to fight for the fact that yes, girls CAN BE sports fans too and SHOULD BE taken seriously, even if I do squeal and bang at the dashers when No. 87 skates by.
Philly fans have it notoriously hard. Seemingly every year, maybe even up to four times a year, we're taken to the brink, and then let down in often spectacular and unfortunately hilarious ways. Now you can see why any sports season is tumultuous for me, aside from the (usually) heartbreaking drama brought on by my teams. My basic idea for this blog is just to talk about everything sports - a place where I can freely root for both No. 18 in the Black&Orange and No. 11 in the Black&Vegas Gold, as well as No. 18 on the hated Blueshirts, among others. I actually doubt I'll even have any readers, but I just think it'll be a fun thing to do, something I've never done before.
So, this is the first post to my first ever blog. I got the idea for this based on endless seasons of torture from friends and my own confusion. I am a born-and-raised South Philadelphian. I bleed orange and green, and I live and die by the Phillies W-L column (and Ryan Howard's horrific throws to second base, which always inevitably end up in CF. Oy.) As for the Sixers, I sort of lost interest when Kyle Korver went to Utah, and am currently wishy-washy on the entire NBA thing. Korver is actually the only NBA player I still follow, especially after the miserable Sixers season of 2008-2009.
Unfortunately, most of my "second favorites" come from my teams' rivals. Favorite baseball player outside of any Phillie? David Wright of the New York Mets. Favorite hockey player outside of any Flyer? Sidney Crosby of the Pittsburgh Penguins. In fact, the Pens are my second favorite NHL team, tied with the Anahiem Ducks (who aren't too much drama seeing as they're in a different conference). I own multiple Pens DVDs, and the Stanley Cup champs hat. I even jumped and cheered when they won the Cup, which I closely followed. I cheered for them the entire time, after I came out of mourning over that whooping they handed us in Game 6. In the NFL, the Tampa Bay Buccaneers don't provide too much turmoil on fall&winter Sundays, thankfully. My favorite Eagle, Stewart Bradley, is most likely down for the season, so watching the heart attacks they call games will be a bit tougher this season.
Baseball is perhaps my biggest area of contention. The New York Mets - or, as I prefer to call them, the Mess - are always on my tv, thanks to the Extra Innings cable package. I've got season tickets to the Phillies (as well as the Flyers), and live just a five minute walk from the park. I've been following DWright ever since his July 2004 MLB debut. In the AL, my favorite team is the Red Sox, and this seemed to only pose drama for me during the ALCS of 2008, if they would have won. My other AL team I enjoy following? The Toronto Blue Jays. I don't intentionally aim to root for all these conflictions, it just has fallen into place that way over the years. I will always root for Philadelphia over anyone else, even DWright and Sid the Kid.
As a female sports fan who also works and studies in the industry, it's always tough. I get a lot of crap from guys who think I only follow a player "because he's cute." It's true that I definitely can appreciate the good-looking guys in the sports I follow, and often I find my favorites attractive, but that is definitely not the basis for my fandom. I'm not ashamed to say that a player is hot, and I don't think I should be. I know what I'm talking about, and there's no reason I can't comment freely on it. Guys comment on female celebrities/athletes all the time (Anna Kournikova, anyone?), so why is it such a double standard? But I digress... Once they find out I actually know my stuff and am pretty hardcore, they lighten up considerably. I am the first one to fight for the fact that yes, girls CAN BE sports fans too and SHOULD BE taken seriously, even if I do squeal and bang at the dashers when No. 87 skates by.
Philly fans have it notoriously hard. Seemingly every year, maybe even up to four times a year, we're taken to the brink, and then let down in often spectacular and unfortunately hilarious ways. Now you can see why any sports season is tumultuous for me, aside from the (usually) heartbreaking drama brought on by my teams. My basic idea for this blog is just to talk about everything sports - a place where I can freely root for both No. 18 in the Black&Orange and No. 11 in the Black&Vegas Gold, as well as No. 18 on the hated Blueshirts, among others. I actually doubt I'll even have any readers, but I just think it'll be a fun thing to do, something I've never done before.
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