Big Jay expressing how every KU fan feels right now pic.twitter.com/H5w3LNP3C4
— Snyder's Windbreaker (@KSUWindbreaker) November 28, 2015
…or maybe it can.
Big Jay expressing how every KU fan feels right now pic.twitter.com/H5w3LNP3C4
— Snyder's Windbreaker (@KSUWindbreaker) November 28, 2015
…or maybe it can.
In the wake of last week’s entry, “Reports Of My Stopping Chris Stigliano From Becoming Lewis Largent Aren’t Merely Exaggerated, They’re Total Bullshit”, noted fantasist-turned-blogger Chris Stigliano took to the extremely modern Blogger platform to pen a lengthy rebuttal that was published earlier today. Once again, there is no one better qualified to chronicle the many achievements of Chris Stigliano quite like Chris Stigliano. However, putting healthy (?) differences of opinion aside, I will offer a handful of responses simply because if someone runs around the internet with a giant “KICK ME” sign on his or her back, it’s rude not to oblige, right?
“I know how HUMBLE you are but it ain’t no big MYSTERY why the sales of my mag took a drop right when you, a pretty powerful cog in the ’80s underground machine (you don’t have to be so modest about the power you wielded!), started up your li’l infantile rants against me and my (ahem!) writing abilities and tastes! Ain’t no mere coincidence like you say, chum. Of course you were one who at first praised the mag tellin’ your readership about how you first read about the Silver Apples in issue #6 after hearing ‘em on the radio wonderin’ who they were (and writing me some downright pleasant notes as well!) before turning on me based on certain patches of information I’ve put together from different sources that still make little if any sense (though you’ll come up with a few nice li’l reasons as to why). Sheesh, give yourself a little credit for being a shifty human being now, willya???”
OK. Unattributed sources Stigliano either can’t name or can’t remember claim I “turned on” him, at which point his sales / rep / etc. went into the dumper (with sanity soon to follow). This seems more than a little hysterical — a negative note or several from a zine with sales no greater than his own torpedoed a rise to (again) the top? The middle? If anyone decided to cease purchasing, reviewing or distributing Chris’ publication, I am certain they did so with no urging from me.
I am surprised how you got that notion that a “cabal” of Pee-Cee “Thought Police” has been created to lead to my very downfall and loss of riches and all that. Must be my suspicious mind looking for bigshot En Why rockcrit/underground suckerfish hiding under the bed again! You wouldn’t know, but my slow if ever-coagulating move towards the (ahem) “right” didn’t really come to total fruition until the v. late-eighties at which time the disturbing if not disgusting actions of certain people you love (those who can easily have their core beliefs easily shred by observers greater than myself, and for that matter have) really became too much for this straight arrow to take. And frankly, I still don’t know who was worse, the rampaging fags, feminist blowhards, NEA money grubbing trash artists or the limo lib lackeys (a category in which you more or less fit in) who were defending it all. But I keep forgetting—small city suburban hourly wage workers who are anywhere to the right of Stalin have no rights. The destructive actions of these fine upstanding citizens made me an even straighter soul so maybe I do have you to thank for my transformation, at least in part.
I think I owe Chris an apology for last week’s comparison to Dino Costa. Without question, he was there first!
Sheesh, where in the world did I wish cancer upon you? Death sure…I mean I sure could use a laugh, can’t we ALL??? But then again for you an agonizing death would undoubtedly be caused by discovering a 10% drop in your stock portfolio!
On the 29th of August, Stigliano wrote (in reference to Norton Records’ Billy Miller), “Multpile Myeloma and diabetes ain’t exactly fun things that liven up your life to its fullest potential (and sheesh, with my recent coming in contact with people who are either undergoing cancer treatments or are so far beyond it [or dead for that case] it seems like the malady is growing ‘stead of coming to a grind like I’m sure we all hoped it would have at this stage in time) but really, in all honesty (remember that word?) Billy is not the kinda guy who deserves this sorta fate. Cosloy and (Patrick) Amory definitely do, as do Jay Hinman, David Lang and all of those jerks who threw their lot in with them ‘stead of me.”
I do realize that when you’re in the habit of wishing cancer and/or death upon persons who’ve the temerity to publicliy disagree with you, it’s difficult to keep track of the names and dates. And there’s another difference between me and Stig ; I wouldn’t wish Alzheimer’s on my worst enemy (and he’s not even in the top 20).
But hey, what’s a couple of months? I’m a-ok with cancer and/or death being wished upon me because Chris can close his eyelids and pray to cancer/death fairies and it still makes no difference. We’re all gonna die. But if you’re the sort who wishes painful death and/or terminal disease upon enemies real or imagined, fucking own it, man.
I also remember you pullin’ the ol’ ageism game on me…y’know, you’re so young and I’m so old as a dyslexic Paul Anka mighta sang it. Yeah, I should be writin’ my personal memoirs regarding the signing of the Magna Carta and all ‘stead of about rock ‘n roll but anyway, how does it feel to be among the geriatric now, Cos?
Getting old has perks! If I show up late for all ages shows, I usually get in free because they think I’m there to pick up my kids. If I fake a heart attack, I probably don’t have to carry my own gear to the car (granted, I can’t pull that one more than once a year). Either way, I am pretty certain that were Stiglino not hamstrung by the aforementioned Thought Cops…he’d still be a victim of ageism. And that’s unconscionable. There’s loads of elderly people making valuable contributions in this wonderful world and most of them do not deserve to be tarred by association with a guy who declares his opposition to “rampaging fags”.
(EDITOR’S NOTE : Not quite sure how this happened, but the following post was supposed to have been published on December 22, 2013. Though it’s hardly timely — 50 Cent’s celebrated appearances at Citi Field having taken place some time ago — there’s no possible way I could resist the opportunity to run the photo of Jay Horowitz shown below, no matter how old it may be – GC)
The scribe in question is unsurprisingly, the New York Post’s hip-hop-phboic sports media critic, Phil Mushnick, who expresses dismay the New York Mets have tapped 50 Cent to perform a June postgame concert at Citi Field. Mushnick, who had nothing negative to say when the Mets invited such (aesthetic) criminals as Third Eye Blind to spark a dangerous stampede to the 7 train, takes a dim view of the club’s association with the MC, sneering, “being financially partnered with Ponzi legend Bernie Madoff, 1-800 flower-power ad-scam king Jim McCann, the fined folks at Amway, and manipulative hedge-hog Steve Cohen isn’t sleazy enough,”.
Buyer beware. At least when the Nets ran a “Guns For Tickets” promotion they requested the owners first empty the clips — that slug in the chamber, too.
50 Cent — that’s “Mr. Cent” to the New York Times — puts the rap sheet in rap. And what he raps for a living is beyond both the pale and the pail. As the Mets’ first manager, Casey Stengel, urged, “You can look it up.”
It doesn’t matter that Cent was arrested, again — then copped a plea to avoid another felony — just this year, this time for assaulting the mother of one of his children. Nope, the Mets are pitching this warm, cuddly angle: The Mets and Fiddy are homeboys, both from Queens!
Hey, so is the Queensboro Correctional Facility! Why don’t the Mets send over a few buses, fill them with inmates and take them out to the ball game — perhaps Banner Day. Maybe that’s why the cons on the top floors have been secretly collecting bed sheets.
Perhaps, too, the Mets can conduct a rap-along — follow the bouncing stray bullet! — posting Fiddy’s lyrics on the big scoreboard.
If you think this is an awful lot of effort to give some of us something or someone to curse besides Daniel Murphy…you’re 100% right.
audio from Cleveland’s 92.3 via Larry Brown Sports. Seems like quite the overreaction to Browns QB Johnny Manziel — now demoted to 3rd string — having a night off in Austin. Who can resist the free popcorn?
“All I got was, ‘We’ve made a decision to go in another direction,’ ” Hutton said. “They insisted it wasn’t about budget. I was surprised and shocked the way it was handled given the fact it was two months into the offseason and a couple days before Thanksgiving.”
The Marlins declined to explain the decision.
P.J. Loyello, the team’s senior vice president/communications and broadcasting, said only: “It was a mutual decision between Fox and the ballclub, and we decided to go in a different direction.”
The Marlins said they plan to retain TV play-by-play voice Rich Waltz and radio announcers Dave Van Horne and Glenn Geffner.
Read more here: http://www.miamiherald.com/sports/mlb/miami-marlins/article46131100.html#storylink=cpy
Read more here: http://www.miamiherald.com/sports/mlb/miami-marlins/article46131100.html#storylink=cpy
Read more here: http://www.miamiherald.com/sports/mlb/miami-marlins/article46131100.html#storylink=cpy
Happy Birthday, Jonathan! pic.twitter.com/OIVBkqP7VC
— Washington Nationals (@Nationals) November 23, 2015
The above birthday message to Jonathan Papelbon comes courtesy of the Washington Post’s Dan Steinberg. Laugh all you want, but I’m since the Mets aren’t nearly thorough enough with this kind of thing, I’m gonna make sure Grant Roberts‘ birthday next September isn’t ignored.
In which the oft-utilized disclaimer “not The Onion” makes the inevitable transition to “not The Hard Times”. Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the fountain of insight that is “indie” musician Ari Herstand (above), who via the not-entirely-reputable Digital Music News.com (“Why I Will Not Buy Adele’s New Album 25″) pillories Adele for eschewing Spotify, a streaming service he insists he’s “fallen in love” with, much as he’s “fallen in love” with scads of otherwise unknown artists the app has brought to his attention (case in point, the Alabama Shakes, who have never appeared on television, been played on the radio, received one column inch of press or played a single club gig on their rise to the top).
Lest you think Mr. Herstand is some sort of shill, he assures us he maintains a “vinyl collection of about 100 albums”. That sound you hear in the background is Cornell University placing Johan Kugelberg’s hip hop archives in a series of dumpsters in order to make room for Ari’s vinyl wonders.
Finally, he blames this catastrophic blow to Adele’s career (ie. she just lost a customer) on “block heads” shepherding her. Because she couldn’t have possibly come to a big decision like this all by herself!
If you’d like to weigh in on the pros and cons of Spotify, by all means, do so (on your own timelines). I’d prefer we focus on the work of what appears to be a bright new name in the field of consumerist satire. I eagerly await further updates on other products Ari Herstand will not be purchasing and am hoping that one of these days an accomplished filmmaker (I’m thinking Richard Curtis or Gary Marshall…maybe Lars von Trier if those guys are busy) can make a movie about Ari falling in and out of love with new technologies.
A rare visit to the US of A by Michael Morley (The Dead C., Gate, Wreck Small Speakers On Expensive Stereos) along with an also rare (but not nearly as rare) Austin performance by Christina Carter (Charalambides, Scorces). The rest of the bill ranges from the SDM trio’s guitar explorations, the highly confrontational improv skronk & smash of Art Acevedo, the patented “was that supposed to be a song or is he repairing an amplifier” stylings of ATC, and the static-y one-man-gang that is Hunter Ross’ Sick Van.
It’s Free Week and this show is most certainly not free. Sometimes you get what you pay for. Tickets are $9 and are available now.
Of ESPN’s decision to air a softball chat between “SportsCenter” anchor Jonathan Coachman (above, left) — a former WWE commentator — and current WWE Divas champion Ashley Fliehr aka Charlotte that made no mention of a recent storyline that alluded to the 2013 death of her brother Reid, The Wrestling Observer Newsletter’s Dave Meltzer opined, “the segment makes the news department of ESPN look like a joke” (“once you deem WWE worthy of coverage, even if it’s commercial in content, you then can’t ignore real pro wrestling and WWE related news, such as the Jimmy Snuka indictment and criminal proceedings, the Billy Gunn firing over steroids, the death of Nick Bockwinkel, or the controversy here”). Awful Announcing’s Joe Lucia echoes Meltzer’s complaint, asking, “Imagine if ESPN started covering say…Arena Football, and only showed game highlights, interviewed players about themselves, and broke a news story on occasion. That would come off as pretty weird, inauthentic, and half-assed, right?”
There are plenty of negative things that happen, including failed drug tests, disciplinary suspensions, and backstage confrontations. But then again, those happen in every sport – and ESPN covers them inside and out. If a wrestler sports entertainer fails a drug test, will it be a topic on SportsCenter? If there’s a backstage altercation that results in someone getting fired, will that be reported, or will it fall by the wayside?
If ESPN continues to cover only the positive and essentially act as a mouthpiece for WWE, it’s a real bad look for ESPN. Why does WWE get special treatment that the NFL, NBA, MLB, etc don’t get? That could lead to some ugly backlash towards the Worldwide Leader that they weren’t expecting.
Some backlash, sure. But ESPN seems fully prepared to withstand the fallout from Bill Simmons’ baiting of Roger Goodell. The percentage of ESPN’s audience that’s fully aware of the circumstances surrounding David Fliehr’s passing is pretty small, and it’s almost impossible to imagine how Coachman could’ve brought the angle up without things getting incredibly awkward. Charlotte didn’t script the scenario and is in no more a position to defend the company than Coachman is to defend Curt Schilling. Certainly there’s solid reasons to ask Vince McMahon or Paul Levesque why they thought it appropriate to call attention to the heroin overdose of Ric Flair’s son in order to generate cheap heat, but that’s a far longer discussion than Coachman’s given time for (and how many tough questions has he asked of guests from any sport, ever?)
So it’s come to my attention that some local nü-media dork thinks I’m “too traditional”. SAY WHAT? Would a too-traditional person put a bounty on the head of Jeff Lynne? Millennial SUCKERS are besides themselves with glee over a non-event like Lynne & assorted hacktivists playing ELO songs. Not me.
If I’m so goddamn traditional, how come I singlehandedly popularized sandwiches with meat on the outside, bread in the middle? Is “traditional” any sort of tag to put on a guy who spends HOURS a week teaching his deodorant-phobic next door neighbors a wide array of fakir skills (before I showed up they were glued to the Xbox and playing those stupid football daily fantasy games)? How many traditional people do you know who follow the religious teachings of a leader who only allows you to go to the toilet 3 times a year? How many “traditional” people do you know who donate a quarter of their annual salary to the foreskin reattachment movement? How many trad types do you know who hired the 4-Skins to play their wedding reception?
No need to answer any of the above. I’m not gonna be judged by some self-styled internet pundit who isn’t fit to pack my fucking lunch (because he probably puts two slices of bread atop and below the meat — WHO’S TRADITIONAL NOW, ASSHOLE?)
(sorry, Lewis. I’ll explain later..)
Even the most inexperienced of psychologists would have a field day with Phudd/Black To Comm publisher/legend in his own mind Chris Stigliano’s intense fixation over what other men put in their mouths and/or rec rooms. And it’s a shame, because when he’s not risking shoulder separation patting himself on the back, fantasizing about conspiracies that never were or
proposing marriage to his mom’s corpse beating off to Harriet Nelson, Stig’s got more musical knowledge, insight and (forgive me if this sound FRUITY, Chris) good taste than the majority of his peers from a generation ago (to say nothing of today’s cut & paste/embed enthusiasts who lack the requisite curiosity or imagination to even get a namecheck here).
All of which adds to the entertainment for me, that a zine grudge of a quarter century ago (CONFESSION : I MADE FUN OF THE GUY. MORE THAN ONCE) led to a borderline fatwa (though maybe wishing cancer and death upon someone you dislike is Stig’s idea of a laff riot, too). Stig is of the opinion that being called out for his takes on social matters (let’s just say he’s somewhere to the right of
Adolf Hitler Archie Bunker) constituted an orchestrated campaign to black ball (again, sorry for the imagery, Chris) him from the zine world glitterati and all the glamour and riches that accompany it.
Not only have I never wielded such influence, if I did, don’t you think I would’ve had Steve Blush disappeared first? But really, no fuckin’ fooling, Stigliano believes there’s an actual cabal of P.C. Thought Cops who cock blocked (shit, there we go again) his inevitable ascent…to what exactly? At least the dude’s still writing about non-garbage music in 2015, which is more than most of his more successful (?) contemporaries can claim. On the other hand, most of those contemporaries reside on PLANET EARTH (and some might’ve actually brought something new to the table over the last quarter century)
Anyhow, I genuinely wish Mr. Stigliano continued success in carefully chronicling his own achievements, particularly if these amazing stores are confined to a (barely trafficked) blog. The notion of Stig taking a worldview as deeply delusional as it is homophobic to the podcast medium just wouldn’t be right. After all, Dino Costa was there first!
Writing for the Seattle Times’ Take 2, Seahawks season-ticket holder Nathan Shimizu is displeased with the NFL’s recent advent of “color-rush jerseys”, complaining that said same-color jersey & pants scheme makes it impossible for color-blind persons like himself to follow the game.
Last Thursday, I sat down to watch the game between the Buffalo Bills and New York Jets. During the pregame show they showed the debut of the new jerseys. Buffalo was wearing solid red with white helmets, and the Jets solid green with white helmets. I thought nothing of it at first, other than it was unusual for Buffalo to be in all red.
As the Jets returned the kick and were chased by the Bills, I couldn’t tell who was on which team. From a distance, all of the jerseys with white helmets looked the same. I could tell the difference if the camera zoomed in and isolated on a single player, but once a play started, it was all just a blur.
Every pass was an exciting surprise to see which way the player would run after catching the ball. Brandon Marshall is on my fantasy football team, making it all the more maddening. And when the quarterback scrambled, I found myself wondering why the big guy near him was not trying to tackle him. Then I realized it was one of his offensive linemen.
On Monday, the NFL issued a statement that it did not account for red-green color blindness when it tested the jerseys this summer. That’s surprising, considering that one in 12 men have a form of red-green color blindness.
(not for the first time, Jackie Earle Hayley’s been overlooked)
Shawn Michaels High? Michael Nesmith? Moe Bandy? San Antonio resident Emmanuel Casasola, a 2002 graduate of the city’s Robert E. Lee High School has started a petition to rename the school in honor of Spurs head coach Greg Popovich. Unlike the Confederate icon, Casaola says of the 5 time NBA champion, “I haven’t heard anyone say anything negative about Pop.”
I know this may come off as a joke, but I am being completely serious. He is loved and revered all over the country as the best coach in all of sports and one of the greatest coaches of all time. He started his NBA coaching career in San Antonio with Larry Brown and except for a few years when he went to Golden State, he has been in San Antonio ever since. He has been instrumental in creating an organizational culture in the Spurs which is the envy of the entire NBA. His capacity for leadership, personnel development, and work ethic should be something we teach our kids to strive for and should be honored. He is also a graduate of the Air Force Academy and will serve as the US national team coach for the next Olympic cycle. Therefore, I make my plea to the NEISD school board to honor the man who has been a fixture of our community. Do not name the school after someone who has no connection to our community (Cesar Chavez, George W Lee, etc).
Popovich, however, was less than thrilled, declaring, “I would hope that you would use all your muscle, whatever you have to squash that ridiculous idea as soon as humanly possible,” (“if you reach any level of celebrity, there’s gonna be somebody who’s going to take it too far…I don’t need anything named after me”).
In which the Bard Of Hooksett, NH’s enterprising brother, Merle, has enlisted a fancy auction house to supervise the sale of a cherished family heirloom :
GG Allin’s personally-owned and -worn purple and gold dress. Approximately 40.5? in length, the dress is sewn with an elaborate tinsel floral-pattern, and features four button loops on the left shoulder and a zipper running down the left waist. In fine condition, with a few trivial stains to collar area of liner and one of the shoulder buttons missing. Accompanied by a letter of provenance from Allin’s brother Merle, in which he states that the dress “was worn by my brother GG Allin on my wedding day of May 8th [sic, 7th], 1989 at the Mt. Auburn Cemetery in Cambridge, Ma. GG Allin was the Best man as well as Maid of Honor. He shaved half of his bearded face & wore makeup as well as wearing his leather jacket & the purple & gold dress.” The dress was also worn on stage by guitarist Chris Brokaw during the only live performance of the band GG Allin & The Aids Brigade at Cambridge’s Middle East Cafe on August 27, 1989. Numerous photos taken at Merle’s wedding document Allin proudly wearing the gown. An unusually touching piece of history from the notorious punk rocker.
Following last week’s horrific events in Paris and Beirut, the SF Examiner’s Jay Mariotti considers the security challenges faced by Super Bowl 50 organizers and while he assures his readers, “I’m not alarmist”, Mariotti admits to a fixation with ONE OF MY FAVORITE MOVIES OF ALL TIME.
One of our lingering fears, if you’re old enough to remember, is a real-life version of the 1977 movie “Black Sunday.” It was about a terrorist group plotting to blow up a Goodyear blimp, forcing its crash into the stands at a Super Bowl. The no-fly zone, of course, wouldn’t allow a wayward kite to penetrate the city limits of Santa Clara, much less a blimp or a kamikaze plane. Yes, “Black Sunday” was fiction. But it left indelible images that have followed me into every stadium and arena for thousands of games.
Yikes. Before you check to make certain you’ve not urinated in total fear, Jay suggests, “maybe they can play the Super Bowl without fans?” Why not? He’s been writing without readers for years!
Hey, there’s an idea. Play this one in an empty stadium, Roger Goodell. The Baltimore Orioles staged a home game in an empty ballpark in April following unrest in that city, and while the scene was bizarre, the mood was safer that day and eventually calmer. Does the NFL, as a $12-billion-a-year behemoth, really need the gate receipts? That way, no fans risk harm, and CBS still reaps its $5 million for every 30-second ad.
Ever wonder what happens to not-quite-collectible bobblehead overstock? Y’know, like maybe Aggronautix has gone to the well too often and maybe there’s one GG Allin edition too many? (ie. GG bloodying Robin Ventura)? Something similar seems to have happened with journeyman OF Chris Denorfia, as NBC-7 San Diego’s Steven Luke explains (link swiped from CBS Sports’ Dayn Perry via Baseball Think Factory) :
Several roommates were miffed when 600 bobbleheads bearing the face of a former Padres player mysteriously turned up near their doorstep in University City, San Diego.
Phillip Jia and a handful of his young 20-something roommates in University City asked if an officer could come out and take a look at the items someone dumped in the middle of their condo complex street.
“I’m now a huge Chris Denorfia fan,” said Philip Jia, who along with his roomates had never heard of the former Padres player now sitting in more boxes than they could carry.
“We thought it was from a drug cartel or something,” echoed roommate Jalena Lau. “But when we went through them, they were just regular bobbleheads.”
Though one aspiring video game developer has created a David Ortiz jersey for Fallout 4 players to don whilst patrolling a post-doomsday Boston, Major League Baseball takes a dim view of such creativity, as the Boston Globe’s Steve Annear explains :
“The use of these marks is an infringement of our rights. We plan to enforce those rights,” an MLB spokesman said in an e-mail Thursday.
Richie Branson, the Texas resident who created the modification for “Fallout 4,” said the free download was meant to add a “more authentic” Boston feel to the game.
“Basically, I think it was the only thing missing from the game. You’ve got Fenway Park, the Green Monster, and all of Boston, but there weren’t any Red Sox jerseys,” he said.
When players enter “Diamond City,” a rundown Fenway Park that has become a shelter for a town of survivors, they can purchase a plain baseball jersey for their character to wear.
“Ortiz is a heavy hitter, man. I love his ability to hit. He’s big, he’s massive — so I figured he’d be the right one to survive the apocalypse,” Branson said Thursday morning. “You can wear it through the whole game.”
“I’m not making any money off of it. I’m the little guy. It would be in bad taste for them,” Branson said. “We know Ortiz is not a zombie-killing, post-apocalyptic warrior. And that’s what makes it funny.”
(EDITOR’S NOTE : though there’s more serious events happening around the globe as of this writing, who else is going to remember the pivotal moment in sports blogging history when the New York Times decided the now defunct Queers4Gears.com had earned a shot at the bigtime?. From November 14, 2010, “Putting An Entirely New Spin On The Headline, ‘Carl Edwards Takes Pole’”)
Since when is there something newsworthy about a sports blog that generates as much traffic in a month as this humble offering does in a day? (sound effects of self-righteous wailing, crashing of furniture, etc.) Well, perhaps when you consider the former site is Queers4Gears.com, Mike Myers’ effort “to get the word out to gay Nascar fans that they are not alone”, it’s easier to understand a story on the cover of this Sunday’s New York Times sports section, as authored by Dave Caldwell.
“Nascar has more fans who are accepting of me being gay than gays have been accepting of me being a Nascar fan,” Myers said in a recent telephone interview.
Queers4Gears is not the only car Web site for gay men and lesbians, but it seems to be carrying the most momentum. Myers’s tongue-in-cheek “gaynalyses” of each race, he refers to drivers as divas and leans hard on the soap-opera-style drama of the sport, but he also writes standard recaps of every Sprint Cup race.
He also wants to keep the site lighthearted and fun. Some readers expected Myers to comment when Dr. James Dobson, the founder of Focus on the Family, whom many regard as antigay, delivered the invocation before an August race in Atlanta. Myers chose not to.
“I’ve been so encouraged by the acceptance that I’ve gotten, I don’t want to upset the pot, so to speak,” Myers said.
Race fans, no matter their sexual preference, just like to watch races.
“I’m not there to ask drivers about what they think about gay marriage,” Myers said. “I’m there to ask them about racing.”
Finally, a motorsports scribe Tom Glavine can approve of. In all seriousness, Myers is no more obliged to be a social crusader than any other blogger.
Austin’s 22nd or 23rd most important independent label continues the tradition of an annual holiday show-for-free, though you’re politely asked to bring a can of food (or two) for the Capital Area Food Bank of Austin.
Once again, the all-star bill is augmented by recorded selections from the archives of Johnny Vomitnoise, and the cinema enthuasists amongst you will be thrilled to know we’ll be showing the 1996 Palme d’or winner for best film, “Santa With Muscles” before the live entertainment begins.
The show is free but once again we’ll be accepting canned food donations for the Capital Area Food Bank Of Texas. If you’d like to support this organization and simply hate the bands, Beerland, 12XU and/or myself, you can make a donation here
It’s pretty shocking that Oscar De La Hoya would take to the pages of Playboy to pen an open letter to recently retired former rival Floyd Mayweather Jr. (above) ; has Oscar not heard of The Player’s Tribune? In a scathing assessment of Mayweather’s body of work, De La Hoya scolds, “the fight game will be a better one without you in it…let’s face it. You were boring.”
Just take a look at your most recent performance, your last hurrah in the ring, a 12-round decision against Andre Berto. How to describe it? A bust? A disaster? A snooze fest? An affair so one-sided that on one judge’s card Berto didn’t win a single round? Everyone in boxing knew Berto didn’t have a chance. I think more people watched Family Guy reruns that night than tuned in to that pay-per-view bout. But I didn’t mind shelling out $75 for the HD broadcast. In fact it’s been a great investment. When my kids have trouble falling asleep, I don’t have to read to them anymore. I just play them your Berto fight. They don’t make it past round three.
Another reason boxing is better off without you: You were afraid. Afraid of taking chances. Afraid of risk. A perfect example is your greatest “triumph,” the long-awaited record-breaking fight between you and Manny Pacquiao. Nearly 4.5 million buys! More than $400 million in revenue! Headlines worldwide! How can that be bad for boxing? Because you lied. You promised action and entertainment and a battle for the ages, and you delivered none of the above. The problem is, that’s precisely how you want it. You should have fought Pacquiao five years ago, not five months ago.
You’re moving on to a new phase of life now, a second act. I’m sure it will be nice not to have to train year-round. To get out of the gym and spend time with your family. But I’m wondering what you’re going to do. You have a lot of time and, at the moment, a lot of money. Maybe you’ll put your true skills to work and open a used-car dealership or run a circus. Or maybe you’ll wind up back on Dancing With the Stars. It’s a job that’s safe, pays well and lets you run around on stage. Something you’ve been doing for most of your career.
Miami suspended Gerald Green for two games yesterday after what was deemed, “conduct detrimental to the team” following a weekend incident that saw the shooting guard hospitalized with no details revealed. None, however, until today, when the Sun-Sentinel obtained a police report excepted below by the paper’s Ira Windermere :
According to a Nov. 4 City of Miami incident report that the Heat reviewed prior to issuing their sanction, Green landed a punch during the incident at his downtown Miami condo building that preceded his hospitalization last week and was handcuffed prior to being hospitalized.
Green is referred to in the incident report as an “agitated patient” who at one point during the incident was “restrained and handcuffed.” Also, a witness, according to the report, “noticed blood from Mr. Green hands.”
At one point during the incident, the report states, “Mr. Green attempted to make [his] way up to his unit. When Victim #1 tried to hold Mr. Green in the lobby area for fire rescue, Mr. Green punched the victim in the right eye.”
According to the report, “Fire rescue had the patient restrained due to the patient becoming very loud and verbally combative. Fire rescue requested that the Sgt. handcuff the patient.”
Finally home from the hospital! Here's what happened Friday that put me back in hospital 2 months after back surgery: pic.twitter.com/FGdpVli3x9
— David Schapira (@dschapira) September 22, 2015
The Arizona Republic’s Darren DeRonca reports a local politician is suing Arizona State University over injuries suffered during halftime of this past September’s visit by New Mexico.
Tempe Councilman David Schapira has filed a claim against ASU over injuries he sustained during the halftime ceremony at the football game against the University of New Mexico on September 18.
While Schapira stood with other city officials on the sidelines of Sun Devil Stadium as part of City of Tempe night, ASU’s Sparky snuck up and jumped on the 6’5″ councilman’s back.
Unknown to the mascot, Schapira hadn’t fully recovered from a major back operation in July.
“A moment after he landed squarely on my back, I felt a pop in my lower back,” Schapira wrote in his claim. “I tried to push Sparky off as my wife and others yelled to him to get off, but I needed the assistance of another Council Member, Joel Navarro, to get him off my back.”
As you’ve undoubtedly read elsewhere, University Of Missouri system president Tim Wolfe and school chancellor R. Bowen Loftin resigned from their posts Monday in the wake of graduate student Jonathan Butler’s hunger strike and the school’s football team threatened walkout in solidarity with Concerned Student 150. Perhaps missing the point, the National Review’s Rich Lowery opined, “If anyone running the university had any guts, the school would have told the team, “Come back and talk to us when you can beat sad-sack Vanderbilt.” Taking a more pragmatic view, SB Nation’s Rodger Sherman counters, “once the football team decided this was a cause worth throwing its weight behind, the game was over.”
Wolfe and Loftin were each reported to make around $450,000 a year. Pinkel just got a pay raise and contract extension that will give him $4 million per year until 2021. You could fire Wolfe and Loftin, hire replacements and do it again twice before hitting the financial burden of paying Pinkel this year. Never mind the next five years or the fact that hiring a new coach would cost as much.
If Mizzou had immediately pulled the scholarships of all the players who threatened to quit — 30-plus in the initial group, plus support on social media and elsewhere from others, with only one anonymous player speaking publicly against the movement — it would’ve had trouble finishing the season.
So add the monetary losses of canceling a game Saturday against BYU, to which Mizzou would’ve owed a million dollars if it had canceled, followed by SEC games at home against Tennessee and on the road at Arkansas.
Then you have to go about replacing those players for the next year. It’s pretty hard to manifest dozens of FBS players from thin air, even for the defending SEC East champions. It would be borderline impossible to do so after telling players they could lose scholarships for having strong opinions. Mizzou would be putting out non-competitive football for years, setting the program back decades and costing the school millions.
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