Gear

Would somebody please tell me what the fuck this thing is?

The new spring training gear looks like bush league dog shit. Is there anything sillier than a hulking 6'4" pitcher dressed up like a Little Leaguer? I'm thinking specifically of Zambrano. I'll spare you a picture.

This stuff actually makes coaches -- already dumpy, fat, old guys -- look even more out of place than they usually do in a sports arena, but this takes it to a completely new and disturbing level -- it's very "oh fuck, grandpa overdosed on Oxycontin and got into the paint again." Notice how Sweet Lou has opted not to wear the gay new uniform. My first kudos of what I hope to be many, Skip.


Maybe this is part of some master MLB marketing plan: Bud "the Dud" Selig wakes up from a nap, grabs the phone, and goes, "Hey, never-ending go-to guy, Frank Robinson! We need to draw attention to practice. Any thoughts?" And poor old Frank, incensed at the prospect of being dragged out of retirement for the hundredth time, sighs and says, "Come up with ugly, random, spring-only uniforms. That way the fans will pray for the start of the regular season and the return to the normal gear. Now please stop calling me, you shriveled-up old penis." And Bud replies, "Great idea! Real quick though: Do you know anyone who's an expert on awkward stripes and inverted color schemes? Hello? Hello? Damn! That's the fifth time he's hung up on me today."

Not only are these uniforms ugly and destined to disappear in a month, these hats and the rest of the spring crap are actually marked up from the regular gear. They're charging a premium to look like an idiot, and you know people will line up to do so. What a racket.

If I see anyone I know wearing this shit, I will mock them in public until they cry, wait for them to get their shit together, and then continue to make fun of them. But that should go without saying. Seamus, you've been forewarned.

So, a fie on thee, heinous spring unis! As though I needed another reason to wish Opening Day was tomorrow.

Random Thoughts of the Day

Pet peeve of the day: People who say "ideal" when they mean "idea."



Political equation of the day: In spite of the hoi polloi's incessant whining about X, we'll still be contending with Y ten years from now -- where X means either "alternative forms of energy" or "the war," and Y means either "gas-powered cars" or "Iraq," and the sum of the equation is get the fuck over it.



As far as I'm concerned, putting a political bumper sticker on your car is almost nearly as stupid as getting a tattoo. In both cases, the consequences of making a bad call are permanent as far as both vessels are concerned. If you had gotten, say, a Chinese symbol tattoo of what you thought was your name but actually turns out to mean "child molester," you'll suddenly be in need of a painful surgery, or wind up feeling stupid for the rest of your life. Similarly, if you had placed a Howard Dean bumper sticker on the trunk of your car, you've probably thought about getting the whole thing repainted, or thought about turning it in prematurely. In either case, I'd suggest going forth with neither.



I am not writing often, as I am not very fond of what I've had to say lately. In essence, I am tired of my own voice. Such a terrible thing to say, but that's the God's honest truth.

Quote of the Week

"I'll take the girl; you take the ovaries."

B to the Rat

An IM conversation with my littlest sister:

Me: veut-tu un sandwich de merde?

LS: ew, gross! how are you?

Me: what are you up to?

LS: sorry, so distracted. booking flights.

Me: flights?

LS: yeah.

Me: for what? home?

LS: no, around europe.

Me: wait, to where? greece?

LS: no, ew. barcelona.

Me: isn't that like a 10 hour train from Paris?

LS: yeah. but flights are cheap.

Me: no they're not. trains are cheap. that's why students take the train.

LS: well, actually a little more expensive than trains but cheap.

Me: so flights are actually more expensive than the train, yet somehow cheaper?

[two minute pause]

LS: shut up, i'm not sitting on a stupid train.

Me: good to see you're making the most of the personal growth opportunities presented by studying abroad. i thought taking the train around europe is half the fun?

LS: i said, FERME TA BOUCHE!

Me: b to the rat...

Excellence in Broadcasting

Toward the end of tonight's 'Nova-St. Joe's game, which the Cats won 56-39:

Bill Rafferty: "There's quite a competition for the mascot post at St. Joe's, with an interview process beginning in the spring semester. The current Red Hawk is a junior, hailing from Broomall, a town right here up the road from Villanova."

Sean McDonaugh: "Will you please give the Wildcat mascot some love?"

Rafferty: "No, enough mascot talk. It is a brutal indication of what a blowout this game has become that we've talked this much about the mascot already, and we've still got three minutes to go."

Then, with a few seconds left:

Rafferty: "This game has degenerated into pure garbage time."

Do they give out ESPYs for honesty?



Though we're definitely in a rebuilding year, 'Nova continues to dominate the City Series, taking our second straight title. Unfortunately, an 11-game winning streak in the Big 5 is a bit like boasting that you're a perennial AAA All-Star. Usually the (unofficial) title goes to us, Temple, or St. Joe's. Penn and LaSalle last posed a challenge sometime immediately following World War II, which leads me to my next line of thought.

With regards to Penn, wouldn't it be awesome if all Big 5 games were held at the Palestra, as they were back in the day? The hope of that happening is the only cogent argument I can see for keeping Penn involved in the City Series at all, because Ivy League sports suck.

As for LaSalle, sports fans who didn't attend a Philly basketball school nearly always forget that they are the fifth member of the circuit. The most common response to an inquiry about the Big 5 typically goes, "'Nova, Temple, St. Joe's, Penn, and...um...I think, Drexel?" No, wrong, not Drexel! It would make too much sense to include the best five teams in the city play each other every year. Instead we get numbers one through four, then, inexplicably, six. So, again, thanks for coming, LaSalle. Best of luck with your fortieth consecutive NIT bid.



One last query about the City Series: You've got to be desperate, dumb, or both to sign with Phil Martelli and subject yourself to spending four years looking at his weird, lumpy head.

Quote of the Weekend Etc.

Proehl: "I won't even talk to that deaf guy. I'm pretty sure he's a terrorist."



I wrote something last week about the mood in Chicago leading up to the Super Bowl -- not chest-thumping shit -- just observations about what it felt like around town before the big game. I didn't get to edit it, and though I still stand by the merits of the story, I am a little too dejected to post it. It was good though. Maybe I'll post it at some point.

[To continue avoiding the subject at hand even further... In case you haven't noticed, I've been editing myself way too much lately. I simply cannot dig down to let loose when I sit down to write. My natural inclination is to hold back, and I don't know why it's like that. I'm dealing with it.]

What happened tonight, in Super Bowl Ex-Lee (or, XLI, or whatever you want to call it, the 2007 one, for fuck's sake!): our D was on the field the whole second half. Rex-to-Muhsin was easier than Kretuz-to-Rex. Benson got hurt. The rain should have hurt Indy more, but they somehow slogged through to eek out a win. Peyton Manning, meet Albert Pujols: two athletes who won championships this year because their teams barely fucked up less than the other guys. The margin of error in sports is too narrow these days thanks to steroids.

Was that the worst weather in Super Bowl history? Someone at the party said they watched an old NFL championship game in Detroit where it was snowing, but that was back in the 1950s. The weather is not an excuse for an inability to take snaps, I'm just saying that it's weird how much it rained. And, why weren't the cameramen wiping off the lenses every once in a while? Didn't they realize how hard it was raining? It just goes to show, winter weather in Florida is not as nice as everyone thinks it is.

I saw a naked girl across the way at halftime, while freezing my tail off during a cig. I tried to tell as few people as possible, so as not to create a mob outside, but word got around and pretty soon everyone was trying to catch a glimpse of the naked girl. Dude, it was so much better than Prince.

Who was the MVP? Peyton? Was he really? But what'd he do? Not to sound bitter, but what a boring game, especially the second half! The Super Bowl is pretty much always boring. Even the commercials were gay. They seemed like every other commercial out there right now, with a slightly different setting for the same old joke. They need to bring me in there to shock the world into buying more Tide. I'd be like, "Tide. Makes boxers feel great against your schlong." Or something.

Anyway, the World Series kicks the Super Bowl's ass, but in consumerist America, it's hard to get suburban mommies to sit down and pay attention to five weeks of baseball -- a condition that's arisen thanks to the ridiculous expansionist policies of Alan H. "Bud the Cheese-Headed Ass-Tool-O'-Reinsdorf" Selig. What a bastard.

Ultimately, I am not overly saddened by this loss. After all, a new look Cubs squad will take the field in a few short weeks, and there's no reason not buy into the hype surrounding them. After all, with a new coach and some big spending, it's like 2003 all over again, baby! Let's hope that this time around we the fans don't beat ourselves...

And so, in spite of Chicago's first championship loss since the '91 Stanley Cup Finals, and even in the face of the c-c-c-current a-a-a-absurdly c-c-c-cold minus-25-degree wind chill, my steadfast adoration for Sweet Home remains strong as ever. I wouldn't want to be anywhere else right now, to be sure.

So, one more time for a great 2006 season, Bear down Chicago, blind terrorists or no.