Mourning The Beard

Sooooo James Harden got traded to Houston by Oklahoma City.

I'm a little bit behind with this post, since I was trying to not have a knee-jerk reaction to the trade, and wanted to analyze it without being biased by the glass case of emotions I was trapped in for the first few days after the trade.  And what I've found is that it still sucks.  Big time.  As I thought about it more and more, it surprised me how bummed I am by the trade.

So I constructed a scale, from lowest to highest, on the levels of heartbreak when a favorite player/coach leaves a favorite team:

1.0- The guy who you loved at one point, but then he either sucked, or his personality pissed you off, or both....you're basically saying "Good riddance" as he walks out the door.

PERSONAL EXAMPLES:  Roger Clemens, Vince Young, Nomar Garciaparra, Grady Little.

2.0- One-and-dones in college basketball.  You don't really hate them, and there wasn't really enough time to get too attached....but there is some bitterness about them leaving so soon.  Like a girl who you take out on one date, and then she immediately stops returning your calls.  Oh, really?  A free dinner and two hours of conversation, and you've already decided you're too good for me?  FINE, YOU'RE A BITCH ANYWAY AND NOT EVEN THAT GOOD LOOKING AND I BET YOU DIE ALONE.

PERSONAL EXAMPLES:  Xavier Henry, Josh Selby.

3.0- The guy who was great while he were there, but there just wasn't really enough time for him to become one of your absolute favorite players.

PERSONAL EXAMPLES:  Jason Bay, Adrian Gonzalez, Victor Martinez, Adrian Beltre.  (Although there was this routine with Martinez and Beltre, which was hilarious, and makes me a little wistful for the days when the Red Sox had a little something called "team chemistry.")

4.0- The guy who you loved, and you hated to see him leave, but it was directly after a championship, so all negative feelings are basically disallowed.

PERSONAL EXAMPLES:  Derek Lowe, Mario Chalmers, Brandon Rush, Darrell Arthur.  The quote that I'll probably always remember:  We've just finished partying downtown after KU won the title in '08, and we're back at Kyle's place, to have more beers and immediately re-watch the game (not much sleep that night).  I was already looking ahead to the next year, bemoaning the fact that we were probably going to lose a bunch of guys early to the NBA draft, and Kyle looked at me, incredulous, and exclaimed, "Who the fuck cares, dude?  We just won the championship!"  Completely changed my outlook on things.

5.0- The guy who is no longer productive/worth the money to pay him-- but you hold no ill will, you'll mainly remember the good times. 

PERSONAL EXAMPLES:  Eddie George, Haywood Jeffires, Pedro Martinez, Jeff Fisher.  We'll see if Josh Beckett ends up here.  For now, Beckett is probably closer to an 8.0.  Also, look for Chris Johnson to be on this list somewhat soon- if not next year, then for sure the year after.

6.0- The guy who broke your heart when he left, but subsequent events have lessened the blow.

PERSONAL EXAMPLES: 

- Wade Boggs (he ended up being a giant cockbag after he went to the Yankees)

- Julian Wright (my second favorite KU player ever, but we won the title the year after he left)

- Roy Williams  (obviously he used to be a 10.0 on this scale, but since we beat the shit out of Carolina in the '08 Final Four, won the title, and then beat him again in the Elite 8 last year....I just can't hate him anymore.  I also didn't anticipate that Bill Self would become the greatest college basketball coach in the country, so that helps too.  Nothin' but love, Ol' Roy).

7.0- The guy who left somewhat unexpectedly, but understandably.  Most times you can't really be mad at them, it wasn't really their fault, but damn, it still would've been awesome if they had stayed.

PERSONAL EXAMPLES: 

- Terry Francona (run out of town, fuck you Boston ownership + media)

- Steve McNair (run out of town and later murdered, fuck you Tennessee ownership + media + crazy ex-mistress)

- Marcus & Markieff Morris (there was no way to tell at the beginning of the year that they would blow up like that and become lottery picks...they had to leave for the NBA when they did, but damn, considering KU only had 6 legitimate Division I players last year and still went to the title game....we probably could've used the Morris Twins).

8.0- The guy who you don't want to leave, no matter the circumstances.  YOUR BOY.

PERSONAL EXAMPLES: 

- Warren Moon (there was the crazy playoff game against the Bills where the Oilers blew a 35-3 second half lead and lost, then the next year Moon led them to the best record in the AFC, but Joe Montana and the Chiefs came into town and upset them in the playoffs, then WHAM!  Moon gets traded to the Vikings, see ya later.  That sucked.)

- Manny Ramirez (who did about everything short of stabbing a homeless person on his way to getting run out of town-- and I think even if he would have knifed Ol' Johnny AlleyDumpster, I still would've been calling for the Red Sox to pick up the team option on his contract for the next year.  There is almost literally nothing that Manny could do that I wouldn't forgive him for.  I think they could announce that Manny shot JFK, made the decision to keep the troops in Vietnam way too long, AND was responsible for 9/11, and I'd be like "Well, yeah, but he absolutely murders left-hand pitching, is an RBI machine, and is probably the greatest hitter in postseason history, whaddya want from him?")

9.0- The guy who was responsible for your love of the entire team.  I'm pretty much making up this category for Harden.  He doesn't quite fit in 7.0- even though this is mostly OKC's fault, and they should've just paid Harden his money, it's not quite that simple, since Durant, Westbrook, and Ibaka all sacrificed money to stay, and Harden had previously announced (multiple times) that he would do the same.  He's not quite 8.0 either, since this goes beyond just liking the player.  We'll get back to Harden.


10.0-  Your favorite guy going to the hated archrival.

PERSONAL EXAMPLE:  Only one.  Johnny Damon going to the Yankees.  Nothing will ever be on this level for me again.  I was in shock for days when it happened, even seven years later I still can't really believe it happened, and I will never fully trust athletes again because of it.

So back to Harden....

I already knew that he was my favorite non-Jayhawk college basketball player ever, and the reason I officially jumped on the OKC bandwagon immediately after the 2009 draft, but I kinda assumed that after three years of serious fandom, I was equally attached to the rest of the team.  I was a full-fledged NBA fan again, after years of half-assing it.  (Tangent:  when I announced that Teens and I were engaged, my friend Steph was in the middle of a fe-mance with Teens (or whatever the girl version of a bromance is).  Steph squealed in delight and asked if I thought she would be one of Teens' bridesmaids, to which I replied "What?  You guys have only known each other for like three months!"  To which Steph replied, deadly serious, "Well, yeah.....but it's been a GREAT three months.")  OKC has only been my team for three years....but it's been a GREAT three years.

So now with Harden gone, what's left?  I love Nick Collison, obviously....I've always loved watching Durant, even when he was playing for Texas and dropping 25 points in the first half at Allen Fieldhouse against KU....I've come to enjoy Maynor and Ibaka and kinda Westbrook....but does that make a favorite team?  Not really.  Do I cheer for the Rockets now?  Harden, Marcus Morris, Cole Aldrich, and enjoyable characters like Jeremy Lin and Chandler Parsons?  Go back to the Knicks, and pretend like I didn't ditch them six years ago?  I have no answers.  So now I'm an NBA orphan again, with nobody to really cheer for.  Which is why, for now, Harden is at a 9.0 on my scale.  This isn't just about the Oklahoma City Thunder; it's about the entire league.  He hasn't quite killed the NBA for me, but he has definitely kidnapped it and tied it up in his basement.  And his ransom demands aren't being met, so he's debating whether or not to just finish the job, dump the body, and get out of town before the cops get too close. 

You know what I mean.

The Top 5. Volume 18 UPDATED

Back when we had a comments section here on The Slice, after a Top 5 post, there were usually great comments about what I missed, or what I had too high or too low.  Now, in the post-apocalypic wasteland of NoCommentsVille, these opinions come in the form of texts or emails or Facebook posts.  Even if they didn't convince me to change my rankings, they were still entertaining for everyone to read.  Along those lines, I received this, from reader Alfonso in Chicago, IL:

"Pretty sure you forgot the shimmy the dude does on Chappelle when he's mowing the lawn in his leather outfit.  You know, the gay dude.  Dave asks to see it again.  You know.  I don't know why I keep trying to explain it."

 Besides cracking me up with his text (he went on to talk about how his alias is Alfonso purely because of the Carlton dance) he's absolutely right-- I did miss that one.  Gay lawn mower guy, you're in the #5 spot.  Jack Black, you're out.







(What, did you think I was going to blog about the election today?)

Halloween Parties? Bah, Humbug

I haven't dressed up and gone to a Halloween party since 2006. I just don't have as much fun getting all dressed up in a costume to do my boozin'.  Lately, I've been called "The Ebenezer Scrooge of Halloween" and that's pretty appropriate.

BUT, if I were to go to a Halloween party tonight....is it a bad thing that, without having to go out and buy a single thing, I could go as Jason Sudeikis' character from the 'What's Up With That?' Saturday Night Live sketches?  The only difference is my gold chain has a dollar bill sign at the end of it, but other than that, I'm (theoretically) ready to go.  I've already got the B-boy moves and everything.

Also, below is a link to a page full of 'What's Up With That?' dancing gifs, which will surely make your world a better place.  Happy Halloween party weekend, kids.  Have fun at your stupid jerk parties for jerks.

http://www.tumblr.com/tagged/what-up-with-that?before=1313636344

The Top 5. Volume 18.

A few months ago, during a men's basketball game in the Olympics, Kevin Durant started busting out this little hop and shoulder shake move from the bench when one of his teammates threw down a huge dunk.

(Hey, remember the Olympics?  When everybody is the biggest sports fan in the world, then immediately forgets about them and doesn't mention them again for 3 years and 11 months?  The two most annoying timeframes in the social media world are 1. Presidential elections, and 2. Olympics, by a huge margin.  But even I can't digress this far, this early in a blog post.  Moving on....) 

Both JDub and I caught on to this shimmy separately, and immediately began incorporating it into our lives.  Shortly thereafter, we were teammates in beer pong at a house party, and we were absolutely insufferable (even more insufferable than normal, I should say).  If you fool around and put two of America's most wanted in the same mutha fuckin' place at the same muthafuckin' time! the two of us on the same team in any sort of event, we're always gonna have a steady stream of shit-talking going.  But that night we were able to add a little Durant shimmy after big shots, and piss people off even more.  Since then, I've been trying to figure out my favorite shimmies of all-time.  The ones I like to bust out from time to time, usually in the comfort of my own home when nobody is around, but occasionally firing them off in public.

FYI, because you care so much about the rules and regulations of my top 5 lists, I defined "shimmy" as a dance move which could be accomplished in a couple seconds or less.  Unfortunately, that rule eliminated these beauties, since these are more dances than shimmies:


- Kevin Youkilis/Jonathan Papelbon, 2007 playoffs (starts at :20 mark)




- Danny Green, before every UNC home game in his college basketball career (couldn't embed it, starts at :18 mark)


- Michael J. Fox's dance in Teen Wolf (starts at :31 mark)





- And, of course, the infamous Carlton dance from Fresh Prince.   Forget Michael Jackson or Justin Timberlake or Paula Abdul or Christopher Walken or whoever....for my money, Carlton is the greatest dancer of our generation.









Which leaves these as my top 5:


5.  Jack Black in High Fidelity

Specifically, the little spin move at the :37 mark.  This one might rank higher, but the one time I tried to pull this off in public was the summer after graduating high school, attending the first wedding of my life in which I was, as the expression goes, "drinking my effing face off."  Somebody requested "Walkin' On Sunshine", I tried to spin around with the same grace and agility of Kung Fu Panda, and I spun out of control and headbutted the bride.  In my defense, I had been drinking all day before the wedding, the college kids were corrupting the shit out of me, and it was easily the drunkest I had ever been in my life at that point.  I'm not sayin, I'm just sayin.'





4.  Charlie's Butt Dance from It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia

This one gets two versions.  The first one has the shimmy more well-done and on a loop, but the second one includes the manic Charlie giggle that is impossible to impersonate, and part of why he's one of the greatest TV characters ever.








3.  Jamie Foxx as Steamin' Willie Beamen in Any Given Sunday

I've talked about how I'm bitter about this character since the writers clearly stole the name Willie Beamon from my imaginary football league from when I was in elementary school and playing with toys.....but I can't punish this timeless shark-fin classic (at the :49 second mark).




2.  Kevin Durant in the Olympics

This spot seems about right.  Part of the appeal is it's such an out-of-character move from somebody who's usually so quiet and reserved.






1.  The robot dance guy from Chappelle Show

For those of you who didn't watch Chappelle, this is the guy who randomly showed up every few episodes or so, never having a speaking line, never doing anything but his robot dance, but always drawing huge laughs.  For those of you who did watch Chappelle, you're probably familiar with this guy.  For those of you like me who live and breathe Chappelle and have entire sketches memorized, you probably knew at the beginning of this post that this guy would be #1.  (My apologies for the youtube video inexplicably playing 'Sandstorm' like it's a K-State home basketball game-- I hate when people jack around with videos on youtube with dumb songs-- but it's the best version I could find with multiple instances of the robot dance.)  Either way, this dude is the greatest.

What's Yours Is Mine...

One of the random bonuses of cohabitation, that you don't really think about before the fact:  getting to combine DVD collections.  Something I've noticed since moving to Kansas:  I don't know if it's the weather, or just a general increase in things to do and ways to spend disposable income, or the weather (IT'S PROBABLY THE WEATHER, YO) but people in Kansas don't own near as many DVDs as people in North Dakota.  Amongst my childhood friend group, I probably only have about an average-size collection (that sentence could've went another direction).  But down here, the number of DVDs I own has been a source of ridicule-- upon walking into my basement for the first time and seeing my DVD rack, my buddy Franklin exclaimed "What the fuck dude, are you opening up a video store or something since Blockbuster closed down?"

Anyway, here's my breakdown of Teens' movies that have now become mine as well.  (Although my DVDs are still my own.  One of my favorite Bergman-isms, that I have used somewhere around 50 times since Teens moved in a few months ago:  "What's yours is mine and what's mine is MINE!")


MOVIES THAT I'M LEGITIMATELY EXCITED TO ADD TO THE COLLECTION

Office Space- One of those movies that Paul owned, and we lived together for so long, it kinda felt like mine too.  By the time he moved out, I had seen it 100 times anyway, so I just never got around to buying my own copy. And now it's back in the mix!  Although it would be a happier story if I was moving in with Paul again, instead of Teens.  Maybe someday.  (Side story:  when we were kids, Paul was the first person any of us knew who owned a DVD player, and he was proud of it.  For months afterward, every time he called me to hang out, it would go something like "Hey, whaddya doing tonight?  Wanna do something?  Maybe, I don't know, go get some food, or golf, or.....maybe rent a few DVDs and crash at my place?"  I mean, the exact same line, verbatim, EVERY single time.  To this day, it still cracks Brother and I up.)

Old School- See Office Space.

My Girl- Such a good movie.  Whenever my generation talks about our favorite movies from the early 90's that we loved as little kids, it's always The Sandlot, or The Mighty Ducks, or Jurassic Park, or Basic Instinct, and My Girl always gets unfairly overlooked.  Dammit Macaulay Culkin, why did you have to fuck with that beehive?

Gia- Just a brutal movie, but Angelina Jolie spends a TON of time naked.  No clothes.  Just a complete and total lack of clothes.

Cruel Intentions- Man I loved this movie when I was in high school, when we thought that Sarah Michelle Gellar was the hottest girl in the world.  I haven't watched it since then, and I'm excited to see how it holds up when I get around to watching it next.  (My guess:  Not well.  But, you know, SMG in her prime and everything.  There's still some optimism over here.)

10 Things I Hate About You- I have probably watched this movie 30 or 40 times on TV, but have never actually owned it.  Fast forward to this scenario, which will happen at our house sometime in the next year: Teens comes home some night earlier than expected, and I'm sitting on the couch with this movie freeze-framed on a shot of Alex Mack wearing that red dress with the push-up bra, and I've kidnapped the neighbor's dog and totally lubed myself up with peanut better.  Could be fun.


MOVIES THAT I ALREADY OWN, SO NOW WE'RE GONNA TRADE ONE OF THE COPIES IN TO THE USED VIDEO GAME STORE SO I CAN BUY MORE SEGA GENESIS AND/OR SUPER NINTENDO GAMES-- I'VE TOTALLY HAD MY EYE ON SUPER MARIO ALL-STARS FOR AWHILE NOW

Karate Kid- One of those movies that made me think I had a keeper on my hands when I saw it on her DVD shelf.

The Departed- Ditto.

Saturday Night Live- Best of Will Ferrell- Ditto x 2.

The Dark Knight- If Teens hadn't have owned this DVD, it might have been points against her.  Everyone should own this DVD.

Garden State- You guys heard me when I said Angelina gets naked a lot in Gia, right?

Butterfly Effect- And I thought I was the only one.

Dodgeball- Ditto.


ARE YOU SERIOUS?

(Note:  I was originally going to include S.W.A.T. on this list.  When I first saw that Teens owned this movie, I made some sort of "Congratulations, you and LL Cool J's mom are the only two people on the planet who own this movie" joke.  But then I remembered that Paul also bought this movie (and switched his career path to police officer shortly after) and then Teens and I sat down a little while ago and watched it....and it was actually pretty entertaining.  Also, out of all the angry bisexuals who could kick my ass in this world- of which there are many- Michelle Rodriguez is definitely the hottest.) 

On to the actual movies on this list:

2 Fast 2 Furious- Not an absolutely horrible movie in its own right....but I think it's weird that Teens owns this one and not the first one-- and, even weirder, she hadn't even SEEN the first one until a few months ago when we DVR'd it and I made her watch it, in all its Vin Diesel-like glory.  Have you ever heard of anybody who bought the second DVD in a series without even having seen the first one?  Now you do.

Goo Goo Dolls Live In Alaska- I can't believe that this particular group of words exists in this particular structure in order to make this particular DVD title.  I really can't.  With all the craziness and chaos in this world we live in.....this DVD actually exists.

First Wives Club- If Teens is even watching, much less owning, movies like this one....remind me to never divorce her.  Paging Dr. Ikes, please.  Dr. Yee Ikes, you have a phone call at the front desk.

Save the Last Dance-  Of course she owns this movie.  Of fucking course she does.

Steel Magnolias/My Best Friends Wedding- DOUBLE FEATURE Y'ALL!!!...of Julia Roberts bullshit.  I don't care if this double disc only cost like $4 in the random-ass DVD bin that they throw in the middle of one of the aisles in the clothing or food section at Wal-Mart....you got ripped off.

Center Stage- To be honest with you, I have no idea what this movie is, or anything about it.  But this is the DVD cover, so that's enough for me.  Life doesn't hold tryouts, bro.

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In general, it's been pretty awful since spammers took over the comments from all the posts and made me remove the commenting ability from the blog.  I loved your comments, and the arguments that would sometimes break out in the comments section.  (And for those who have asked:  Yes, I tried enabling comments again recently, and within two hours received about 15 spam emails.  Comments back off).  But the one positive: now Teens can't comment and defend herself on owning some of these DVDs.  What can I say, sometimes bad things happen to good people.

#White People Problems

I was golfing so poorly on Saturday afternoon that I straight-up walked off the course in the middle of the round, for the first time since I was like 14 years old.  Literally unhooked my bag from the cart, told Kyle I was sorry for being a little bitch, but I had better things to do on a beautiful autumn afternoon than have the biggest golf-related physical and mental breakdown of my entire life, and walked 400 yards back to the clubhouse.

Big ups to Kyle for finishing his round and appropriately filling out the scorecard.

Kobe And A-Rod Pep Talk

This may have been one of my favorite headlines and stories of all time.  As far as my personal sports tastes go, this article might as well have been titled "Hitler offers pep talk to Darth Vader after destruction of first Death Star".

http://espn.go.com/los-angeles/nba/story/_/id/8514604/kobe-bryant-los-angeles-lakers-offers-pep-talk-alex-rodriguez-new-york-yankees

I love the idea of Kobe giving a pep talk to anybody.  The biggest asshole of an athlete since Michael Jordan?  The guy who constantly calls out/belittles teammates and ex-teammates alike in the press?  The guy whose inability to co-exist with Shaquille O'Neal and Phil Jackson (granted, you should probably place close to equal blame amongst all three of them) ended up destroying the best NBA dynasty in years?  I'd love to hear Kobe's words of inspiration, especially when a couple of days earlier, he was reacting to A-Rod being pinch-hit for (when he was currently hitting .130, and keep in mind the guy who pinch-hit for him hit two homers to tie and win the game) with quotes like "I don't like that. That's not good for the chemistry of the team. I'm going to have to call A-Rod."

I love it.  Damn, Kobe and A-Rod make it easy to hate on them.  Wouldn't change a thing.
Top 10 people Kobe probably told A-Rod to blame for his slump during their "pep talk":

1.   Shaq
2.   Joe Torre
3.   Derek Jeter
4.   Cameron Diaz
5.   Smush Parker
6.   Baby Jesus
7.   Mitch Kupchak
8.   All female employees of the The Lodge & Spa at Cordillera
9.   Phil Jackson
10. Madonna

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Speaking of the Yankees, this has been about as enjoyable as a baseball postseason can be without the Red Sox being involved.  Tons of exciting games, walk-off wins, the Yankee fans hating on their team like they just went, ahem, 69-93, instead of being in the middle of a playoff run....I'm digging it.  And now that the Yanks are on the brink of elimination, I can sit back and fully enjoy the playoffs-- which is something I usually can't do until I know it's not possible for the Yankees to end up with a championship.  Remember when I broke down who I hated more, the Yankees or Duke?  Nowadays, it's not even close.  I hate Kentucky more than Duke these days (because of Calipari) and my hatred of the Yankees remains as high as it can be.  Go Tigers!

Really? This Guy?

I got an email from my old roommate Jillian the other day with this video and the simple line: "This video makes me think of you! :) miss ya"






Now, ignoring for a moment that this video is kinda hilarious, and that this actually happened on some town's evening news, and that I can't imagine my reaction if I was a resident of that town and had watched it live.....

What?!?!  THIS is what I remind you of?  I know I can be a goofy bastard sometimes, and my love for the Ghostbusters theme is well documented, but damn.  I'm pretty sure I've never rocked the classic pumpkin mask and black spandex combo, and I THOUGHT I had better dance moves than that.  I think it was worse because she didn't even try to play it off as busting my balls or anything like that.  Just straight up honesty; this video really did make her think of me.  Congrats on your Backhanded Compliment of the Year Award, Jillian.

Side note:  I've played this video for five people now, and all five have either cried laughing, or come extremely close.  So if you don't laugh at this video....you're a racist.

UPDATE:  I've been told that the embedding isn't working for some people, so if it doesn't, here's the link:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v4IC7qaNr7I&sns=em

90% Of My Text Conversations With Fundy

A little background info for the non-college basketball fan so this makes more sense:

1.  Bill Self just got a big raise, so he's now making almost 4 million a year until 2022.
2.  I "also" work at KU.  Even though it might as well be another planet, theoretically, we're getting paid from the same source.
3.  A few ex-KU players are allegedly customers of this giant marijuana ring that was recently busted by the feds.
4.  When Tyler Hansbrough's mom worked for UNC, she was allegedly using university funds to do shady things like travel around the country.

The point of posting my own text conversation and counting it as a blog post:  this is what it's like to be a college basketball fan right now-- or just any sport, really.  Do I talk shit to Fundy about how KU beat UNC in the Elite 8 last year?  Or maybe the beat-down from the 2008 Final Four?  Does he brag about how UNC stole KU's coach, then won more titles in four years than KU has in the last 20?  Nope, we go right for pot-smoking and Hansbrough's mom.  Every school has its own scandal somewhere; it's just a matter of when it will come to the surface, and all you can do is hope its nothing too awful.  For instance, I will GLADLY take a Johnny Dakota scandal over, say, getting busted paying your players or something.  A huge majority of college basketball players smoke weed; to think otherwise is naive.  Such is life in the sports world in 2012.  Sometimes I miss the innocence of youth.  All we had to do then was rock our Starter jacket and blindly love our teams, and we didn't know about the sometimes seedy underbelly of recruiting, jersey chasers, cheating in class, etc. etc. etc.  Oh well.

***************

Get it?  Johnny Dakota?  GET IT?  I don't mean to mistrust you guys, you're usually pretty quick on your feet.....I just really wanted you to get that one.

Giving My Ryder Cup Weekend The Ol' Thumb-Diddely

THUMBS DOWN:

- To me.  At some point, I have to realize I'm not 23 anymore.  Getting a little tipsy on Friday night, going to bed at 2am, waking up at 5, spending the entire day on my feet at the golf course, then going to Katie and Alfonso's place and drinking until 4am is just not gonna cut it.  That's a 23-hour day, let's get serious.  In the moment, I can usually hang, which gives me false confidence that it will be no problem, and then I'm hungover for three days afterwards.  Then, the next time I find myself in a similar situation, all I remember is how I could totally handle it the last time, and I gloss over the being hungover for days afterward part. 

- To Team USA's performance on Sunday (to clarify, I wasn't there; we only attended in person on Saturday).  I don't really feel like breaking it down and rehashing it all, or going into detail on how much blame to put on Davis Love III (choosing Furyk for the team, sitting Mickelson and Bradley on Saturday afternoon, etc.) or any of that stuff.  The whole day just sucked.  As awesome as the '99 comeback at Brookline was, I had never even considered what being on the other side felt like.  Now I know.  Felt as bad as a KU tournament loss or something.

- To people in the crowd who yell something they think is funny immediately after a golfer hits his shot.  "You da man" and "Get in the hole" are so 1997.  "Baba booey" or "Bang biscuit" are irrelevant and don't even make sense (Gangel, before you correct me-- I know that "bang biscuit" is from the DP show-- but he doesn't yell it for golf shots, does he?)  And if it's anything longer than like five words, then nobody is listening anymore.  This isn't to say that people yelling things at golf tournaments isn't funny (see below) but just not in the two-second timeframe right after the shot is struck.  Come up with something original, at least.

THUMBS UP:

- To the atmosphere at the Ryder Cup.  Just phenomenal.  Like I described before the weekend, the ability to clap and cheer for European missed putts or bad shots, and chanting "USA!  USA!"....you just can't put a price on that.  We paid a scalper $150 for our tickets, and I easily would've paid double that and felt like we got a steal.

- To random celebrity sightings.  First there's a buzz that rolls through the crowd as people see/hear that the celeb is coming, then the celeb actually walks by, and you can actually FEEL their presence.  It's wild.  Tiger, Michael Jordan, guys like that...there's really nothing you can do besides just stare at them the whole time they're in your area.  It would've been the same way for Michael Phelps, but then we realized he was strolling around with a couple of Dirties, so it kinda took away from his aura a little bit.  Then he led everyone in a rousing, fist-pumping chant of "USA!  USA!" and it was all cool.  Goosebumps restored.

(One of the funniest moments of the day...shortly after Phelps and the rest of the people following that group walked through, and the crowd was starting to die down...all of a sudden some random guy comes straggling through the walkway, and someone in the crowd yells "Hey everyone, look!  It's THAT GUY!"  And the entire crowd explodes and starts chanting "That Guy!  That Guy!"  Probably the best moment of that dude's life.)

- To Jud and CK's cooking.  We had a little watch party on Sunday with Jud, CK, Katie, Alfonso, Chelsey, and Mike and they laid out a spread for us.  Pork tenderloin, mac & cheese, sliders, rice, etc....whenever the man and the woman in the relationship both enjoy cooking, you know you're going to be in good shape.  Unfortunately, this is never a joy that Teens will ever know.  My contribution to hosting any dinner party will either be a) paying money to have food catered or delivered; or b) a party platter of bagel bites, pizza rolls, and bite-sized Hot Pockets.

***************

Overall, it was a phenomenal trip.  Big ups to all who participated.  (That includes you, American Airlines.  You really stepped your game up when I needed you the most).  The thing that kinda sucks about it is that my first Ryder Cup experience will forever be associated with the biggest collapse in Team USA history.  Definitely tarnishes telling the story about how I attended the Ryder Cup in person.  It's like, how many Buffalo Bills fans do you hear bragging about being at the Super Bowl, you know?  Or how many people are excited to break out the photo album from their honeymoon to Pearl City, Hawaii in December 1941?  Maybe I'm exaggerating a bit.  But you get it. 

Ryder Cuppin'

This weekend I'm crossing a pretty big item off the bucket list by attending Saturday's matches of the Ryder Cup.  (Here's a disclaimer for pretty much this whole post:  I'll be attending....assuming American Airlines doesn't screw me over.  Long story short: the pilots and the company are in the middle of a pretty big labor beef, so only 55% of flights are arriving within 15 minutes of their scheduled time, and 5-7% of their flights are being flat-out cancelled-- when a 1% cancellation rate equals a horrible day for an airline.  I'm not supposed to arrive in Chicago until 9:30 tonight, and if something flight-related happens that bones me over, and I miss tomorrow's matches....shit is gonna get real.  End of disclaimer; for the sake of this post, let's just assume everything works out and I'm on the grounds of Medinah at 7am tomorrow.)

I've been to the '02 PGA Championship, a practice round of the '05 Masters, the '06 PGA, and the '09 PGA...but nothing like the Ryder Cup.  Normally golf is a gentleman's game, and respect must be shown equally to all competitors.  But the Ryder Cup.....break out the champagne glasses and muthafuckin' condoms!  But seriously, to the layperson who might not know much about golf, the Ryder Cup is a completely different animal.  There is way more boozing.  There is a 900% increase in people wearing the American flag as clothing.  We as spectators are allowed, nay, encouraged, to heavily cheer the Americans and mildly heckle the Europeans.  The golfers, who are normally playing only for themselves, and as a result are usually straight-laced and don't show much emotion, are suddenly screaming and fist-pumping routine birdies as they play for their country.....it's fantastic.  My favorite sporting event besides March Madness.

A little while back, I chronicled my love for Jason Dufner-- the golfer who constantly chews on the course, tweets about gambling on football, makes fun of Jay Cutler on the reg.....

....AND COMPLETELY OUTKICKED HIS COVERAGE WITH HIS WIFE.  Actually, I don't know if 'outkicked his coverage' goes far enough to describe how far over his head he married.  What a stud.  Some member of the media tweeted this picture the other day, asking his followers if they thought Dufner 'overmarried'....and Dufner tweeted back with the response "Why would you ever UNDER marry?  Duh."


Right now, the only thing keeping Dufner from being my favorite golfer is that I've put in 17 good years with Phil Mickelson. I'm like a middle-aged husband, shooting off some serious sparks with the new temp in the office.  But I won't consider a divorce, since I'm mostly happily married, and what would we do with the house, you know? And all that paperwork, custody battles....not worth it. But I definitely still daydream about that temp. 

ANYWAY, no joke:  I had a dream the other night that Jud and I were standing off the 12th hole, and on his way to the 13th tee, Dufner walked over to me and asked to bum a chew.  Now I'm going to try and make this happen, and if I'm somehow successful....I fucking hope the Mayans are right.  I wanna go out on top.

So let's all think positive thoughts about my flight tonight, OK?  I haven't been on a plane in over four years (Weird, right?  I feel like that's an absurdly long time) so I'm hoping I have some good plane karma built up.  Granted, the last time I was on a plane, on my way to Vegas, I had a visibly pregnant woman ordering me Morgan Diets the entire flight, to the disgust of the stewardess, since I was trying to cheat the 'one drink at a time' rule, but any possible bad mojo from that can't carry over until now, right?  That statute of limitations has to have expired by now.

Oh yeah, almost forgot....

USA!  USA!  USA!  USA!

Have No Fears, It's The Lumineers

Normally I'm not much for slower music.  It's good in small doses, don't get me wrong.  But I need something upbeat.  I need a little rocking out from time to time.  I need to get punched in the dick by music, at least once on an album.  The scene that sums me up, that Teens loves to reference, was when we were watching 500 Days of Summer a few months back, and after an hour of acoustic love songs jamming up the soundtrack, I unintentionally announced my inner monologue by loudly exclaiming "Can we just hear one song with some fucking drums in it?!?!"

But for some reason, despite being pretty mild comparative to the rest of my music, I really love The Lumineers.  They have some upbeat songs, but plenty of slow ones that are still really good.  We went and saw them perform on Monday night, and they were even better live.  Combining the music, crowd, and atmosphere, it was one of the most fun shows I've ever been to.  I never thought that being in the third row for Snoop Dogg (in 2001, when he was still cool) for $20 would ever be topped, value-wise, but seeing this band for $15 came damn close.  The song 'Big Parade' was one of the 5 best songs I've ever heard live.

(Rest of the top 5 off the top of my head:  'Gin & Juice' by Snoop Dogg; 'Tom Sawyer' by Rush; 'Ain't Nothin' Wrong With That' by Robert Randolph & the Family Band; 'Whole Lotta Rosie' by AC/DC.  Obviously we're factoring in the atmosphere and general level of fun in those rankings.  'Whole Lotta Rosie' isn't even in my top 15 favorite AC/DC songs, but at that concert, I saw more real-life boobies during that four minutes than I had in 18 years on Earth up to that point, so there you go.)

So from the man who brought you a Will.I.Am song from Sesame Street; MC Hammer songs 20 years after they came out; and a soccer hooligan song that makes me want to clink a mug of beer with my best mates and I can't get anybody on board with PLEASE SOMEBODY GET ON THIS SONG'S BANDWAGON WITH ME SERIOUSLY THERE IS SO MUCH ROOM.....I now officially recommend The Lumineers.  Get into them.  Go see them if they're in your neck of the woods; you won't regret it.  I'll get you started:











***************

Semi-unrelated side note about Monday night:  I was intending to put down a bet on the Packers that evening, and long story short, things were a little hectic after work trying to get to the concert, and I never got my bet in.  We got home from the show just in time to turn on the TV about two seconds after the call at the end of the game had been made, and all hell was breaking loose.  And it turned out to be a huge blessing that I didn't get that bet in.  Can you imagine losing a bet that way?  I would have been rioting (repeat:  RIOTING) in my living room had I lost a bet off of that refereeing.  Holy hell.  No joke, I probably would've quit gambling for the rest of the NFL season (or at least would've skipped the Thursday night game this week before caving).  Anyway, best non-bet of my life.

Fantasy Football Draft War Room

"Dude, I dunno....seems like a stretch to take Percy Harvin right here...."

"I don't think it's too early at all, Jum.  We're a PPR league-- wide receivers are grossly over-valued right now."

"Yeah, but Harvin?  Is he even that good?"

"I've got him as a top-15 receiver on my big board.  Did you know that over the last ten games of last year, he was the #1 targeted wide receiver in the NFL- by a huge margin, too!  Something like 110 targets!  I don't have my Snap-n-Learn Counting Elephants in front of me or anything, but that's like 11 targets per game!"

"Yeah, targeted by Christian Ponder..."

"Targets are targets, bro!  Yeah, Ponder sucks, but I could be the one throwing to him- and remember, I'm not even 100% sure on whether I'm right or left-handed at this point, I can barely hold onto a fork, and it's still considered a success when I don't go to the bathroom in my pants- but if I was throwing to Harvin as much as Ponder does, he would still be good for at least 4-5 catches and 70 yards a game."

"Yeah, maybe...."

"And we've already got Andre Johnson and Jimmy Graham!  Harvin just has to be our third-best receiver and we're set!"

"I don't think a Vikings wide receiver has ever worked out for me, though...remember the Randy Moss debacle?"

"Don't forget about the random handoffs and reverses they call for him, that's usually good for another 20 yards a game, maybe a touchdown here and there..." 

"I've only got 10 seconds left to pick!  What about Hakeem Nicks?  Pierre Garcon maybe?  I'm panicking here!"

"Percy Harvin, bro.  Do it."

~click~

"Ok.  Harvin.  Got him.  Gimme some dap, Finn."

"I'll knucks to that, duder.  Hey, pass me a beer real quick, Mom and Dad aren't looking."

"You know I can't do that!"

"Hey, John Cougar MellenBummer- how are you gonna bring Mich Golden over to MY house and not even offer me one?  I'm friggin' coughing up sand over here.  C'mon, just one beer."

"Not 'til you're 14."

Stop Being You, Peyton Manning

Everyone always asks me, "Dude, how can you hate Peyton Manning?"  Here are three reasons, in no particular order:

1.  I'm a Tennessee Titans fan.  I had to watch him most dominate the division for 13 years.  Quit making the playoffs every single year like you're the Yankees or something.  Annoying.

2.  His little pre-snap routine where he audibles every single play, and wanders up to the line to talk to his linemen, then back to the shotgun, then up and down the line of scrimmage to talk to his receivers, then back to the shotgun, then uh-oh!  We're gonna audible again, let's start the process all over.  Not only does it drive me crazy in real life, it became so prevalent that they eventually added it to the Madden video games, so then every time you played the Colts you had to watch him do it every single play, and the games took forever.  Annoying.

3.  Gambling against him is a nightmare.  If he doesn't out and out beat you, then he's like Matt Damon in Rounders:  hanging around, hanging around....kid's got alligator's blood.  Annoying.

So last night, I was banging the Falcons -3, and feeling good when Peyton threw three first quarter interceptions and the Falcons jumped out to a big lead.  I was Doing the Dirty Bird by myself in the basement, sending out texts like "Birrrrrrrrds!" to people who had no idea what I was talking about...just loving life.  The Falcons took a 27-7 lead into the 4th quarter, which is normally when you can go ahead and cash your bet when all you have to do is cover three points.  But could I relax?  No.  Could I maybe get to bed a little early?  No.  Because you can't ever turn your back on Peyton Manning.  I've been burned too many times by Peyton over the years- especially in night games- to feel comfortable. 

(Which begs the question: "Why are you still betting against Peyton in night games when you've lost so many times before?"  To quote Matt Damon in Good Will Hunting when he's talking about choosing the wrench instead of the belt or stick to get beaten with by his foster father:  "Because fuck him, that's why.")

And sure enough, Peyton marches the Broncos down the field for a TD, and then the Falcons go three and out, and the Broncos score again, and the Falcons go three and out again, and ESPN is showing stats like "The Falcons are 79-0 all-time when leading by 20 points or more in the 4th quarter" and I'm gritting my teeth, until finally the Falcons get a first down and close it out and I win my bet.  Riled me up juuuuust enough that it took me forever to fall asleep last night, when I should've been able to relax and enjoy the win.  I know I'm being that guy by complaining about a gambling win, but c'mon!  It was 27-7! 

In summation, I still hate Peyton Manning.

***************
Hey, remember in The Departed, when everybody thought Matt Damon was a straight-up detective, but really he was working for Jack Nicholson's gang, and Leonardo DiCaprio had no idea until the very end, and then Marky Mark shot him in the head?......That was cool.

(I reallllllly wanted to have a third Matt Damon reference in this post.  After the first two were so applicable, I couldn't just walk away from them).

Things That Used To Be Awesome. Volume 4.

Is it the shoes? 

Basketball shoes.  In the 80's and 90's, they were a HUGE deal.  Now, for the most part, not many people care too much.  There is still some social status attached to what kicks you wear on the court, and I admit I do still get a little jealous when I see my barely-two-year-old future nephew sporting the new Lebrons...but for the most part, your basketball shoes don't really matter much anymore.  Back in middle school in the mid-90's....they were a STATEMENT.

And my favorites?  The Nick Van Exels (pictured above).  Nick the Quick was my dude back in the day.  He was involved in more great NBA Live '95 moments for me than anybody else.  Truth be told, I loved these shoes the second I first laid eyes on them in the advertisement in Sports Illustrated (I even had that advertisement cut out and taped to my bedroom wall, until the flood destroyed it)....but when I saw Van Exel wearing them shortly after on TV, I was sold (meaning, of course, that my parents were sold, since they were the ones unhappily shelling out exorbitant amounts of money for shoes that I would outgrow in less than two years). 

When I was scrolling through the google images of old 90's shoes, it was almost embarrassing how many that I could remember not only the NBA player(s) associated with them, but my friends and 7th grade teammates as well.  Oh snaps!  There's Noles' old Air Jordans!  Lil' Pennies?  Those were Behrang's flavor right there....and Easy E's Zoom Airs! 


So what were your favorites?  The Grant Hill Filas?  I always used to call these the Tupacs, since he rocked them pretty hard with his baggy jeans.

The Lil' Pennys?  How great were those commercials, by the way?  Chris Rock killing it as Lil' Penny.  "Hey, Tyra!  You left your toothbrush at my house!"

The ones with the big AIR on the side?  Were those technically the Scottie Pippens?  I don't actually know.  These were HUGE on the South Spartans middle school squad.  Holler at me, Dunph.

The Patrick Ewing military boots?

The Air Jordan XIIIs?

What about the Air Jordan XII?  Loved these ones, but not in red.

The Allen Iverson Questions?  These are the ones that famously crossed Jordan up.

The Shawn Kemps that could even make an infant's feet look like size 13s?

So many awesome shoes. 


I gotta say though, if I were just a couple of years older, the Nick Van Exels wouldn't be my favorite.  I was old enough to see these shoes around, and see them winning dunk contests on TV, but juuuuuust missed the heyday of being able to wear them-- DVJS I hope you already know where I'm going with this......

Pumps, baby.  So baller.  Ask Dominique:

Never Drinking Again

Have you ever been so hungover that you started drafting a final will & testament?  That's where I was during the ten-hour drive home yesterday.  Now I'm sitting here Monday afternoon, 39 hours after my last drink, and I'm still not convinced that I'm going to pull through.  We're not out of the woods just yet.

I've never been the best decision maker while drinking (although that implies that I'm actually making my own decisions, when in reality the ol' booze brain just says YES to everyone and everything) but even by my standards, this last weekend was bad.  Here are the worst drinking decisions I made during the wedding weekend festivities, counting down from 4 to 1:

4.)  Deciding to go to an after-party at Ike's parents' house on Thursday after the bar, when we knew we were golfing the next morning.  LZE tried to save us from ourselves when we were leaving Southgate, and she fought in vain to just get us to go home, pleading with us that 2am was late enough.  She got outvoted (by about 10-1) and as I was standing over my ball on the first tee the next morning, wondering which one in my vision I should swing at, all I could think about was how badly I wished we had listened to her.

3.)  Any time I had a white russian in my hand.  If you ever see me drinking the Lebowski Special, that means that at the very least, my axles are rattling.  I may not be B'd out yet, but I'm on my way.

2.)  I had a couple of cases of beer in my trunk, leftover from Thursday night (Ike made me take them with me, since if we left them at his parents' house he was worried they'd get stolen by his parents....didn't it used to be the other way around?)  While golfing on Friday morning, I starting drinking them instead of buying cold beer at the course like everybody else.  Pretty soon, we're on the back 9 and I'm chugging a warm beer on every hole and yelling "Trunk beeeeeeeeeeer!" every time I crack one open.  If that day would have been a 'Choose Your Own Adventure' book, every single time I chose the path of shotgunning a 12-pack of warm beer, the book would've ended with me throwing up in my parents' bathroom.  Different decisions later on could've delayed it a couple chapters or so; but ultimately, it was inevitable.

1.)  Pretty soon it's 2am (we're still on Friday here) and even after a 16-hour shift of boozing- I had at least 15 more drinks, on top of my 12-pack of trunk beer- as the bar closes and we're causing the usual downtown sidewalk shenanigans and waiting for cabs, T-Nels yells out "AFTER PARTY" and sure enough I find myself nodding yes and thinking this is a good idea.  At least I didn't try to roller blade home or anything (cough, Noles, cough).

Someday, some effing day, I'll be able to be a think-for-myselfer and not give in to the peer pressure.  But for now, a couple months shy of turning 30, that day has not yet arrived.

Things I Thought Would Happen Before Fundy Got Married

Back in our college days, during the heyday of Culligan Manor, Fundy used to rip on Paul and I for having steady girlfriends.  He played it off as us being suckers for being tied down when we were apparently supposed to be out banging randoms by the truckload, but really it was because he couldn't talk to girls unless he was hammered.  If The Big Bang Theory existed back in 2002, his nickname today definitely wouldn't be Fundy, it would be Raj.  If his house was on fire, and a female answered 911, he'd have to hang up and call back until a guy answered the phone.  Then he met Smapes at a party, sparks flew, emotions ran high, and whammo! Fundy had himself a serious girlfriend and joined the rest of us "suckers."

And now, one week from tomorrow, he and Smapes will be walking down the aisle together.  I've gotta say, I'm proud of our boy.  We've come a long way from high school, when Fundy called up Breezy and asked her to Prom like this (picture Ike and I literally rolling on the floor in laughter as this conversation is going on):

~Fundy dials the number, Breezy answers and presumably says "Hello?"

"WHADDYADOIN?"

~pause~

"OH.YOUWANNAGOPROM?"

~

"PROM?YOUWANNAGOPROMWITHME?"

~

"COOL.OKIGOTTAGO,GOTTAGOBASEBALL!"

~

"IGOTTAGOBASEBALL!!!"

~click~

And a catchphrase was born; one that we still use to this day.  I gotta believe that if Fundy could do it all over again, he would've made that phone call in private.  But I'm so, so glad he didn't.

***************

Here are some things I thought would happen before we actually saw Fundy get married:

- Tupac resurfaces after faking his own death.

- The Rapture.

- A Y3K scare.

- The Chicago Cubs win a World Series.

- World War III.

- Channing Tatum stars in a movie that doesn't make me want to punch him in the face (Dammit, that's a lie, it already happened.  21 Jump Street was kinda awesome.  At least he went right back to being a toolshed with Magic Mike-- although I'm sure most girls, including my fiancee, would disagree with that statement.)

- Coach K is revealed to be a robot.

- Time travel is invented-- shenanigans, mostly of the Michael J. Fox variety, ensue.

- A female President.

- That one thing that Meatloaf won't do for love....he does it.

- World War IV.

- Rick Astley gives you up.  He lets you down.  He runs around, and deserts you.  He makes you cry, he says goodbye.  He tells a lie, and hurts you.

***************

Later, skaters.  Off to North Dakota to golf, see the entire side of my mom's family for the first time in 15 years, play dollar blackjack, eat at Red Pepper an obscene amount of times, and watch Fundy and Smapes tie the knot.  ("Huh?  A knot?  Ehhh, you better...KNOT mention that again, you cocksuckers."  Classic.  Let's end on that note.)

Wait, They Traded WHO?!?!

Regarding my favorite sports teams, Easy E and Fundy are constantly blowing me up with fake trades, injuries, suspensions, run-ins with the law....you name it, and they've tried to make me believe it happened.  Brandon Rush got caught with a prostitute.  Phil Mickelson tore both ACLs while pulling somebody out of a burning car.  Chris Johnson got arrested with 50 kilos in the trunk.  Steve McNair was killed in a murder-suicide by his mistress (Oh wait, that one was real?  Too soon?)  With them, no lie is too much of a stretch.

So on Friday evening, I had just finished a round of golf and I was enjoying some beers on the country club patio with Hendo, Matty P, Blaine, Ben, and Wardo. I had been off the grid for awhile, but earlier that afternoon, the last I had heard was that the Dodgers had put in a waiver claim on Adrian Gonzalez, so there may have been some trade talks going on.  So when those two idiots called me and were yelling over each other that the Red Sox were trying to trade Adrian Gonzalez AND Carl Crawford AND Josh Beckett AND Nick Punto in one fell swoop, can you really blame me for telling them to STFU, and asking Easy E if he actually knows how the waiver wire works?  My Kansas buddies overheard my phone conversation, and we all had a good laugh at my moron North Dakota friends and their drunken shenanigans.  Three things in my defense:

1.  Easy E doesn't, in fact, know how the waiver wire works.
2.  It was Fundy's bachelor party weekend, so I was already on DEFCON 2 alert that these guys would be screwing with me somehow via drunk phone calls.
3.  This is probably the single most ridiculous, completely-out-of-nowhere trade in baseball history.

I told Easy E and Fundy I owed them an apology for berating them in front of my friends when I turned out to be wrong, so here it is.  (Even though I'm pretty sure the Boy Who Cried Wolf didn't get an apology from the townspeople, he just got his flock of sheep eaten by a fucking wolf).

Now, as far as the actual trade is concerned:  I'm trying to talk myself into it.  No matter how bad Beckett has sucked for the past year, no matter how much beer and fried chicken he consumed in the clubhouse during last year's collapse, no matter how many rounds of golf he played during the season ("My off days are my off days!")....I can't get on board with trading him.  He is most likely my all-time favorite pitcher-- the only possible competition being Roger Clemens when I was six years old, but I mostly loved him because I had a strange obsession with the letter R when I was really young.  My favorite ninja turtle was Raphael; my imaginary friend's name was Roger Sanchelly; I strolled around wearing a yellow baseball hat with nothing but the letter 'R' on it....the whole thing was kinda weird.  But yet I digress.  Bottom line, I hate that my boy Beckett got shipped out.  Remember in the 2007 ALCS, when Cleveland brought in Beckett's ex-girlfriend to sing the national anthem before Game 5 with the Sox down 3-1 in the series, and he sat there and smirked and nodded during the whole performance, like OK, fuckers, I see what you're doing here, then came out and struck out like 12 dudes and completely shut the Indians down, and the Sox went on to win the series?  Beckett has plenty of spite in his tank, and he's going to empty it out now.

As far as Gonzalez and Crawford, you just know those two are going to blow up for the Dodgers (while Crawford is injured until next year, Gonzo already started with a three-run donger in his first at-bat.)  For whatever reason, the Sox are great at knowing when to let a player walk in free agency, letting another team throw big money at the guy right before his skills start to erode (Pedro, Johnny Damon, Jason Bay, etc.)  But when the Sox trade somebody....heads up, it's about to start raining baseballs in the bleachers (Manny, Youkilis, Josh Reddick, etc.)

In summation:  it's never bad to shed $260 million in salaries, and the prospects the Sox got in return from the Dodgers sound pretty legit (Rubby!) and clearly the team needed some kind of new direction here....but I can't lie and say that I'm happy about this deal.  What a mess the last 12 months have been for Red Sox Nation.

Last thought:  as I've been saying for about a year BEFORE he retired:  make Jason Varitek the manager!
 

"And We're Baaaaaaaack!"

We're coming up on four years now since ChewGate, and I have still stuck with just chewing pouches, as opposed to the "real" thing.  I think it tastes better; I like that I can put one in or spit one out and not worry about if I have a bunch of shit in my teeth; and it's much cheaper.  So much to the chagrine of some of my friends who chew the real stuff, I have stuck with pouches this entire time.

So a few weeks ago, we're attending a party in Teens' hometown, and it was a stereotypical small-town Kansas shindig.  There were a lot of Southern accents, lots of pick-up trucks parked on the street, and lots of country music being blasted over a beer pong game being played on an old door.  Real hootin' and hollerin' type stuff.  I only knew three people at the party, so it was one of those nights where you just gotta shrug your shoulders and say "Welp, time to get drunk and make some new friends."  Somehow I ended up getting accepted into the toughest crowd at the party.  I don't know what they liked the most: if it was my pearl-snap button-down shirt, or gelled-up hair (I had a PERFECT gel job going that night, bro), or biceps the size of a 14-year-old who got cut from the 160-pound weight class on the wrestling team.....but apparently they liked having me around.  Sorta like a jester or something.  Or maybe I was like Spider in Goodfellas.  And we all know how that ended.

In any event, pretty soon we're sitting around a table, playing cards, and talking about stomping the shit out of the random guys from down the street who showed up uninvited to steal beer out of the keg (naturally).  I pull out my tin to throw in a Dufner**, much to the approval of the dudes in the group.  Subtle glances are exchanged; affirmative headnods are directed my way.  My small-town Kansas swag couldn't be any more through the roof.  Then, one of the GIRLS across the table asks me to bum a chew.  I shake off my surprise (I mean, if she can talk about throwin' some 'bows at the dudes down the street for stealing beer and doing coke in the living room, she can handle a lipper, right?) and slide my tin across the table.  She picks it up, makes a disgusted face, and snarls,

"Oh....you chew POUCHES?....nevermind."

Boom.  Roasted.  In front of all my new tough-guy friends and everything.  My swag balloon wasn't just deflated, it was like someone took a knife to it.  It popped and the remains flew out of the garage and down the street to the random guys' house-- where now I surely wouldn't be invited anymore when we stormed down the street to stomp them.  Not me and my pouches.  Maybe the most emasculating moment of my life.  I can handle getting ripped on by my buddies all the time for still chewing pouches, but having a girl call me out in front of an entire garage full of tattooed, jean-short wearin', switch-blade carryin', baby-mama havin' Kansans?  Ouch.

***************

**I like to call individual chews different names, depending upon the occasion.  For instance, if I'm putting in a chew on the 4th of July, I might call it a Thomas Jefferson.  If it's during Christmas break, maybe it's an Ebenezer Scrooge.  Etc. etc. etc.  On a golf course, it's called a Dufner, in honor of Jason Dufner, who has become my hero (don't worry Phil, I still love you more) because during tournaments on TV, he constantly has a sold-out lower deck in his mouth stadium.  You know the CBS producers can't be a fan of that, but Dufner don't give a FUCK.  And here's his Twitter profile picture:

As a result of his awesomeness, I've taken to calling chews 'Dufners' even when I'm not golfing.  Jason Dufner, American hero. 

Just don't tell him I only chew pouches....

Don't Call It A Comeback, I've Been Here For Years

Yes, I'm going to blog again from time to time, I'm not dead or anything.  Thanks for all the support from my friends during this hiatus.  (By "support", I mean texts/emails that say something to the effect of "Dude, get off your ass and blog once in awhile, you're such a homo" and things of that nature.) 

In the meantime, enjoy some clips of Workaholics, a show that has been a hot-button argument amongst some of my friends and I lately.  Teens and I are in love with it-- personally, I think it's one of the funniest shows I've ever watched....but Steph and Jared think it's the dumbest show in the history of television, and that you are an idiot if you watch it.  So suffice it so say that the lines are drawn.  For the record, I can see how some people might not like this show.  It's definitely not a smart or subtle comedy.  Nobody will ever confuse it for Arrested Development or anything.  But I still nearly pee my pants laughing at least twice per episode, so there's something to be said for that, methinks.