The New York Post’s Lorena Mongelli, David K. Li and Bruce Golding report a patron caught snoozing by ESPN cameras during an April 13 tilt between the Red Sox and host Yankees is suing the network and yuckster announcers Dan Shulman and John Kruk for $10 million. It would seem being cited as an example of sloth by Sir Kruk (on national television, no less), is considered defamation of character.
His typo-ridden suit says Shulman and Kruk’s “false statements” include suggestions that he’s “not worthy” to be a Yankees fan and “is a fatty cow that need two seats at all time and represent symbol of failure.”
The suit also says Rector was made out to be “a confused individual that neither understands nor knows anything about history and the meaning of rivalry between Red Sox and New York Yankee.”
As a result, the used-car dealer claims to have “suffered substantial injury” to his “character and reputation,” as well as “mental anguish, loss of future income and loss of earning capacity.”
Over the weekend, a number of photos of Browns rookie QB Johnny Manziel hit the internet, including but not limited to one showing him bartending at a downtown Austin douchetorium, and another showing the former Heisman winner rolling up a $20 bill in the men’s room of a Houston club. Pro Football Talk’s Mike Florio, who might be old enough to remember the halcyon days of the
The Vault Studio 54, chimed in with the following helpful note :
Rolled dollar bills are often used for snorting cocaine and cocaine is often snorted in the bathroom of a nightclub. (At least that’s what they did in the ’80s. I’ve heard.)
We won’t speculate on what Manziel planned to do with the money, and there’s no evidence in the photo of any cocaine or other banned substances. And if anyone knows of any reasons why Manziel would be tightly rolling money in a bathroom, feel free to drop them in the comments
Since Mr. Florio is so pathetically out of touch with modern trends, it’s necessary to inform him that using a rolled-up $20 bill to tip a rest room attendant is considered the height of class in the Southwest.
Boston SP John Lackey took a less than admiring view of Orioles RF (and newly elected AL All-Star) Nelson Cruz’ 5 hit performance Saturday night, saying “I’m not even going to comment on him,”, but then doing exactly that.
“I’ve got nothing to say about him,” grumbled Lackey. “There are things I’d like to say, but I’m not going to. You guys forget pretty conveniently about stuff,” the stuff alluded to being Cruz’ 50 game suspension for PED use last season. You don’t have to be Manny Alexander to know that Baltimore skipper Buck Showalter (above, left) would take umbrage at Lackey bringing it up, as the Baltimore Sun’s Eduardo Encina carefully absorbed :
“You consider sources of people and some of their emotions after the game, whether it be a player’s comment or a manager’s comment or some fan’s comment,” Showalter said. “You understand that nobody makes those comments after they pitched a complete game shutout or Nelson is 0-for-5. It’s human nature.”
“We need to all make sure we check our own backyard before we start looking at someone else’s.”
At the time of his suspension last season, Cruz said he used PEDs after a gastrointestinal infection that went undiagnosed and caused him to lose 40 pounds. Cruz said he has moved on from last year, but he still gets constantly heckled on the road by fans.
“Like I said, everybody is free to talk,” Cruz said. “What I care [about] is what I’m doing here. You can’t go and confront everybody who talks, you know?
…the Stickney family started getting on my case. As you can see above, last night’s fireworks show at the conclusion of a Rancho Cucamonga / Lancaster Jethawks game resulted in the hosts’ outfield wall catching fire. But this unfortunate incident wasn’t nearly as explosive as the belated reaction of family and employees of former Quakes owner Hank Stickney to this 2005 CSTB post. Close, but not quite.
Sitting on the best record in baseball (along with the best run differential), Oakland’s acquisition of P’s Jeff Samardzija and Jason Hammel for highly touted Cubs SS prospect Addison Russell was hailed by at least one observer (and several thousands more) as making the A’s World Series favorites. Alas, not everyone is blown away by Billy Beane’s audacity, specifically Halo’s Heaven’s Rev Halofan, who argues this is actually good news for the 2nd place Angels, given that Beane has “dumping the high end of their farm system”.
The Athletics acquired Jason Hammel, a veteran starting pitcher with an ERA of 4.46 over 78 games (70 of them starts) over the three seasons prior to this one. Sure, he is having a career year with a 2.98 ERA in 17 starts this year but a half-season does not win you a Cy Young. They also acquired Jeff Samrdzija, easily the Cubs best starter. Samzilla is 29 and is immediately the ace of the Oakland staff.
But the A’s have been treading water of late and a few parts on the team that appearaed to playing over their heads are just as likely running out of gas as they are going through statistical fluctuations. Billy Beane now has surplus pitching to make another deal but he is going to need someone with stats plausible enough to bump out a current regular and yet stats that aren’t small-sample mirage.
When they said it was BLOCKBUSTER they are right – Theo Epstein of the Cubs just brought a prospect bonanza to The North Side.
(photo courtesy John Petkovic)
(former Mets hurler Grant Roberts, presumably before the introduction of a Shea Stadium Green Room)
Yahoo Sports’ Jeff Passan recently penned a piece in which Major League Baseball clubs were accused for promoting minor leaguers to their 40 man rosters to avoid minor league testing for marijuana. If you think that means affiliated teams have a cavalier attitude towards weed, former Padres reliever/Jays broadcaster and author Dirk Hayhurst claims in a Sports On Earth column that said organizations “totally condone” consumption (“one big-league team even had a “green room” where you could toke up while you were at the ballpark,”)
As far back as I can remember, players were getting high. Guys in the minors, on or off the 40-man, would take apples from the locker-room spread, hollow them out and then sneak behind dumpsters and smoke an apple pipe. In Triple-A, the now-defunct Portland Beavers would hide in stadium supply tunnels doing the old puff-puff-pass before jumping a knuckleball fight over the Rocky Mountains. I’ve even seen coaches toking up with their players.
No one says a word about any of it. See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil. It all falls under the code: What happens within the team stays within the team. If that weren’t the case, a guy could snap pics of another player getting high and turn it in to the organization, in the hopes of expediting his own career over someone else’s. Never happens.
It’s a long season, and smoking isn’t remotely the worst thing ballplayers are capable of doing in their idle time. I’d much rather see a guy baked at the hotel — giggling hysterically over a rerun of Jackass — than passed out in a random neighborhood kiddie pool after a night of heavy drinking courtesy of breaking into the stadium beer concessions. (The owner of the kiddie pool was furious!)
There was only one thing in Passan’s article that I took exception to. An unnamed source claimed that getting off weed had made him play better, “as if a fog was lifted.” I don’t know about that. Based on the guys I know who smoked regularly, your mileage under the influence will vary. Some of them were so freaking good baked, I can’t imagine how awesome they would’ve been clean.
In a case that has echoes of the Mike Rice debacle at Rutgers, Bobby Cremins’ successor at the College Of Charleston, men’s head basketball coach Doug Wojcik — under investigation for verbal abuse of his student athletes — was suspended for a month without pay by the institution. After the Post & Courier published excerpts from a 50 page report vilifying Wojcik, it’s hard to imagine he’ll be coaching anywhere during the 2014-15 season. From the P&C’s Andrew Miller and Gene Sapakoff :
Wojcik at a practice told walk-on guard Chad Cooke, “I’m gonna rip your (expletive) throat out,” says another player.
To center Glen Pierre: “You’re not tough. Suck it up. I don’t care if (Pierre) … dies.”
In one tirade aimed at Matt Sundberg, Wojcik calls the player a “fag.” In other blasts, Wojcik degrades Sundberg’s girlfriend (“my wife is five times the woman your girlfriend will ever be”)
A player says Wojcik asked him about a teammate: “Like Nori Johnson. Would you have recruited him? He’s liar. He’s a thief. You don’t trust him, do you?”
“I cooperated with the investigation and accepted President (George) Benson’s decision and sanctions,” Wojcik said. “I’m sincerely remorseful and apologize to those I’ve hurt. I’ve already started making amends and working on correcting my actions. The College and I are grateful these concerns were brought to our attention, and every effort will be made to improve relations between myself and members of the men’s basketball program.”
In defense of Wojcik, current assistant coach Joe Wallace said he has never heard Wojcik call a player a “fag.”
(EDITOR’S NOTE : From time to time, noted Bronx baseball executive The Randy L. visits CSTB to weigh in on the more pressing issues of the day. Upon learning of the virtual stir caused by a letter to Cleveland Scene, Randy offered, no, he totally insisted on having his say – GC)
I’m sure some of you think I’m all business-and-labradors, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. RANDY L LIKES TO KICK BACK. RANDY L LIKES TO ROCK. And when I’m simultaneously kicking back and rocking (and doing my best to put unsavory news stories out of my mind), I’m a devoted fans of musical artists who (like myself) are at the top of their games. Dave Mustaine. The National. Taylor Hicks. And lest you think it’s only modern, avant-garde talent that I’m down with, I’m a connoisseur of the classics, too. As such, I consider myself to be the continent’s biggest fan of George Thorogood & The Delaware Destroyers. At least I used to consider myself to be the continent’s biggest fan, as that was before I read the following letter that appeared in a publication far more obscure than the New York Yankees Magazine, Yearbook or Media Guide :
I wanted to contact you to inform you about a tremendous injustice happening in Cleveland. I wouldn’t believe it had I not only witnessed it, but I was also accosted by these perpetrators of complacency.
Last night, my wife and I attended the George Thorogood and the Destroyers Rock concert at the Hard Rock Racino and this is where the trouble began.
Let me give you some background on this just in case you guys are from Pittsburgh or Sacramento or Albuquerque. You see, growing up in Cleveland, we take our Rock N’ Roll seriously. Its not just some fashion statement to us. Its our culture and religion and the reason we get out of bed some days. Its the soundtrack to our lives.
We had visionaries like Alan Freed lead the universe to the drinking hole of Rock N’ Roll. We petitioned and won the Rock N’ Roll Hall of Fame and Museum. We are the Home of the Buzzard. Now, I know that doesn’t mean much to kids these days, but growing up in Cleveland in 70’s and 80’s, it means everything. And anyone who attends a George Thorogood concert should understand this without question.
So when you listen to classic rock in Cleveland, you will here Mr. George Thorogood and his Destroyers at least once every 2 hours. Cleveland supports George…until last night.
As I said, my wife and I went to what we thought was going to be the Classic Rock party of the summer. Unfortunately, our hopes were dashed moments into the first song.
Some rotten bastard had the stones tell us to “Sit down”.
Sit down for George Thorogood? Sit down for Rock N’ Roll? Sit down while George tore into a blistering opening opus. This somehow did not compute in my thinking machine.
Mind you, this wasn’t some security thug. In fact, it was a (gulp)…fan? I turned and looked and everyone was sitting. The entire place was sitting.
“Well, they must be tired? Perhaps they have been rocking with George for 40 years and they are tuckered out?” I figured. No mind, we shall stand for them and show Mr. Thorogood that Cleveland still appreciates his brand of Rock N’ Roll.
Then another person tapped my shoulder. This time it was younger gal. Clearly she had not been rocking with George for 40 years and therefore, could not be that tired. “We’re trying to watch the show. You guys need to SIT DOWN!”
“Sweatheart, why don’t you stand up and let that electric guitar flow through your soul?” I replied. And that’s when they ganged up on me.
This gang of sleepy golf shirted target demographics for Viagra all pestered us to “Sit down”.
Oh dear friends and neighbors, I’m here to testify that this really happened in Cleveland. Dear friends and neighbors, they were serious about sitting through this show. They wanted dinner theater.
I texted my friend and brother in Rock to ask for advice. Do we sit and be respectful to the crowd behind us or do we stand? He texted back and said that Rock N’ Roll has become complacent and that we needed to do what was right.
Well, this thing was bigger than the moment.
At that point I was so disappointed with the Cleveland Classic Rock fans, that I walked away from the thing and looked for someone from security to move us someplace that we could stand and be out of the way of the lethargic beer bellies.
Hard Rock staff was very understanding but would not move us. They said, we can stand in front of our seat. And they told the people behind us the same.
Of course that didn’t stop the complaining. They spent more energy and focus on us than the thunder from the Destroyers. They wanted to sit and rest their tavern tumors. As my brother in Rock said, “You can’t be a Rocker wearing Dockers”. And he was prophetic about this.
At this point, we just tuned them out and hoped that by the time George tore into “Who do you love”, these slumberous fans would press there Florsheims to the floor. No soap. They just sat there like grumpy curmudgeons from the balcony of the Muppet Show.
Look it, I just wanted to make you guys aware and perhaps through your power and influence on Clevelanders through Scene Magazine, we lift this listing ship of complacency.
Anyways, we have several more shows this summer. I will keep you abreast of this unsettling trend.
Respect the Rock,
Mr. Baker sounds an awful lot like me — a passionate, free spirit, somehow remaining youthful while surrounded by pocket-protected NERDS arguing that Aldo Nova‘s Greatest Hits “don’t make for a productive work environment”. Oh, really? So you mean scouring Craigslist’s “Librarians Who’ll Do It With Anyone” section has anything to do with the job description of General Manager? Hey, you know what’s great about George Thorogood’s “I Drink Alone”? The song isn’t called, “I Drink With A Delusional Blackmail Artist Who’ll Cost Me My Family And Maybe Even My Job (Unless Randy L. Bails Me Out Again)”.
So really, you white-wine-at-the-Eddie-Money-concert types can fuck right off, along with Brian Cashman. Dale Baker is my kind of American, and on this most historic of weekends, I’d like to personally invite him to dine with me at the New Stadium’s Hard Rock Cafe. It might not have the history of an Ohio greyhound racing track’s “Hard Rockisno” or whatever the fuck they’re calling such bush league monstrosities, but I can promise you, after I’ve brought in George Thorogood for a rare Bronx appearance, anybody caught sitting down is getting punched (females under the age of 10 and persons in wheelchairs excepted). RESPECT THE ROCK OR TAKE ONE IN THE GUT.
God Bless America,
(oh c’mon, like you could keep your hands off him)
Who amongst us hasn’t been in a bar and thought, “wouldn’t it be fun to grope an on-duty police officer”" OK, while that thought hasn’t crossed my mind (recently, anyway), who knows what might happen after 20 or 30 drinks? I might start watching “Game Of Thrones”. In the matter of Flyers C Claude Giroux, he’s merely unauthorized fondling of a male Ottawa police offier as the Ottawa Sun’s Danielle Bell explains:
Officers were inside the bar as part of routine walk-throughs, when one officer had his butt grabbed by a patron as he walked by.
The officer turned around and told the patron not to behave like that, but he was grabbed again. At that point, the patron was taken outside of the bar to be spoken to, and was arrested soon after.
Giroux, 26, was put in a cruiser outside of The Great Canadian Cabin in the Byward Market around 9 p.m. Tuesday, where he was escorted out of by police. He was released Wednesday morning without any charges being laid.
It was later learned Giroux is expected to make a $20,000 donation to an Ottawa charity.
…as a guy who can tell the difference between a cable news network and a North African nation? Still, it’s not even close to the most embarrassing piece of Glenn Hoddle footage on the internet.
Shortly following Georgia Public Broadcasting’s takeover of Georgia State University’s WRAS, GPB producer Clay Bolton found himself hitting the bricks after management took umbrage at his choice of a shirt when photographed in a local publication. From Creative Loafing’s Rodney Carmichael :
Bolton’s dismissal followed the online publication of the Creative Loafing story “Atlanta nostalgia: It’s the new style.” In the story about the growing local trend of T-shirts designed to signify love for a fading Atlanta, Bolton talked about creating his “Fuck Cobb County” tee four months ago in reaction to the Atlanta Braves’ decision to move the major league team outside the city limits to a future Cobb County stadium
Beyond critiquing the Braves’ intended move, his Fuck Cobb County shirt symbolizes the ideological tension that often distinguishes the city from the suburbs, and Atlanta from the rest of the state. Bolton, who worked at GPB radio for two years, produced the local news breaks for nationally syndicated NPR shows “Morning Edition” and “All Things Considered.” Apparently his job was in good standing. He’d received a promotion the day before being fired for violating GPB’s code of ethics, he said. Though GPB refused to comment on personnel matters, a spokesperson contacted by Creative Loafing said GPB “wish[es] him the best.”
The shirt in question can be ordered here.
(image culled from Metal Sucks.net, though it failed to lift the spirits of Nigeria coach Stephen Keshi)
The Indianapolis Star’s Candace Buckner fails to mention, however, that the movie “produced in Lance Stephenson’s honor” is a shot-for-shot remake of this classic. The Pacers were gonna opt for this one, but Larry Bird thought it was a little too hard to improve on the original
(if Carney’s rugby career is over, there’s always food blogging)
With apologies to West Ham United (if not Michael Jackson) for the above headline, some you might recall a Vice item from earlier this month that alleged the practice of urinating into one’s own mouth, dubbed “bubbling”, was a full-blown craze within the Australian skating community. Earlier today, Deadspin reported that Cronulla Sharks halfback/fullback Todd Carney’s 5 year contract with the NRL side was terminated after a photo of the 28 year-old pissing into his own wide open mouth was circulated via social media. In the view of Sydney Morning Herald columnist Brad Walter, Carney was a
pissing ticking time-bomb waiting to go off :
Throughout his career, officials, coaches and teammates at the Raiders, Roosters and Sharks have stood by the talented playmaker and each time he has let them down.
No other club is again likely to do so after a string of misdemeanours that include drink driving and driving while disqualified after a police chase in Canberra, allegedly urinating on the head and neck of another patron at an ACT bar, damaging a vehicle he jumped on in Goulburn, another drink driving charge at the Roosters and breaching a player-enforced alcohol ban that led to his sacking from the club.
As a result, Carney has been banned from his home town of Goulburn for a year, warned by a judge that he would go to jail if he was convicted by another court, sacked from the Raiders and Roosters, deregistered by the NRL and banned from playing Super League in England because of his criminal offences.
It is understood he did not upload the photo circulating on social media but Carney has already been linked to a bizarre apparent craze known as ‘‘bubbling’’. It is a story that will travel around the world in the same way as John Hopoate’s finger poking antics and Joel Monaghan’s simulated sex act with a dog.
Earlier this year, USA Today declared Texas Tech’s Kliff Kingsbury, “the coolest coach in college football”. Hopefully he can use some of that street cred in the future to recruit a cornerback who doesn’t hit women. The Lubbock Avalanche-Journal’s Sarah Rafique and Don Williams report Nigel Bithel II, a Red Raider freshman, managed to assault and injure another TTU student-athlete, in this case, one far more accomplished, during a pickup basketball game yesterday :
Bethel reportedly punched Lady Red Raider G Amber Battle in the face, breaking a bone, the A-J has learned.
Blayne Beal, a Tech spokesman, confirmed there was an incident between two student athletes Saturday afternoon at the recreation center. Beal said campus officials are gathering information from both parties.
Tech women’s basketball coach Candi Whitaker said she was unable to comment Saturday evening.
Following the incident, Battle posted to Twitter, “Pray for me y’all.” She later posted, “Thank y’all for the calls, texts and visits.”
From a Lubbock location Saturday evening, a Twitter account under the name Nigel Bethel II had a post that said, “Trouble always seems to find me … “
The morning after his NY Post colleague Tim Bontemps detailed the stunning developments that have Nets head coach Jason Kidd most likely leaving to take over Milwaukee’s basketball operations — after attempts to torpedo Billy King apparently came up short —the Post’s Mike Vacarro has a laundry list of ethical issues concerning Kidd to raise, but not before declaring Brooklyn’s better off without him (“their chances improve exponentially if they’re coached by any of a dozen legit candidates”)
Kidd’s been doing this since his freshman year at Cal, when he led a mutiny that wound up costing Lou Campanelli his job with 10 games left in the season.
And never were his Machiavellian methods more on display then the evening of Dec. 5, 2007, when, unhappy with the Nets’ unwillingness to trade him or extend his contract, he conducted a one-man job action, calling in sick and missing a game against the Knicks at the Meadowlands when the only thing wrong with him was a sour attitude.
Kidd was a genius player, and none of his clubhouse-lawyering and coach-killing will ever change that. But his off-court conniving is every bit as much a part of who he is, who he always has been, as his on-court brilliance. The Nets, of all teams, knew that as well as anybody, and hired him anyway last summer.
And then, in case anyone forgot, he chased a reluctant Lawrence Frank for weeks to be his top aide, demanded that the Nets make him the top-paid assistant in the league…then exiled him about 15 minutes into the season.
Earlier this week, UK terrestrial broadcaster Channel 4 premiered “Dispatches : How To Fix A Football Match”, a collaboration with The Telegraph that purported to blow the lid off gambling-influenced soccer fraud, with content including but not limited to, “the conviction of match fixers who tried to infiltrate the English game and those offering to help fix a match involving a team competing in the World Cup.” The Independent’s Andrew Tong was somewhat less than blown away, writing, “they say that match-fixing is a bad thing, but frankly it may be the only way the England football team will ever win a major tournament .”
It was a shocking programme. One man claimed to have fixed five friendlies before the last World Cup in South Africa by suggesting to the country’s federation that he would pay all the fees and expenses of the referees and linesmen. Hmm, nothing dodgy about that at all.
But that was just the start: we heard of matches with no fans; games involving fake national teams; fixing entire tournaments at Under-18 level with the gangs shouting instructions to the players from the stands; and even betting on games that simply didn’t exist even though a stadium would be hired and a commentary team commissioned.
Strangely, however, the idea of pundits talking a load of old nonsense about nothing in particular sounds quite familiar.
(possibly the wrong Joe Gibbs — research dept. is checking on this)
When I try to come up with a name of a respected public figure who probably travels in the most culturally diverse social circles, almost without hesitation the name of former Washington head coach-turned-NASCAR maven Joe Gibbs comes up. Because who would know more about cultural sensitivity than NFL players, coaches and stock car drivers and fans? On Saturday, Gibbs explained to a writer from the AP that the ongoing angst over Daniel Snyder’s refusal to change the team name stemmed from…well, he’s not quite sure. It seems there can’t possibly be another side to the issue!
Asked about the controversy before the NASCAR race Saturday at Kentucky Speedway, the Pro Football Hall of Fame coach and racing team owner defended the Redskins name.
“Never once did I hear anybody ever say anything negative about the name Redskins,” Gibbs said about his time with the team. “It was always prideful, it was courage involved. We have a song, ‘Hail to the Redskins,’ and so everything, everything about that name has been positive for me and my past.”
(if you’re thinking this post was just a cheap excuse to post the above song…you’re totally right)
Detroit Athletic Co.’s Dan Holmes compares the experience of listening to Tigers radio broadcasters Dan Dickerson and Jim Price to “someone invading a hole in my head and inflicting pain…it’s brutal.” While crediting the former with “a very good voice”, Holmes considers the typical Detroit broadcast to be “Dickerson telling you what he knows about baseball while he occasionally interjects the pitches and what happens on the field.” (link swiped from Repoz and Baseball Think Factory)
Dickerson: There’s a grounder, the throw across and it pulls the first baseman. Martinez is out. No, now he’s being called safe. [LOOOONG PAUSE] That ball was hit to Beltre and he threw the ball high and wide and it was dropped by Pena. Martinez is safe on an error.
What was he watching? How does he not tell us WHERE the groundball was hit immediately, and what happened at first CORRECTLY the first time? It’s radio, you can pause a millisecond and wait to see what the umpire at first calls. Instead, Dickerson just uses his verbal shorthand and fails to call the play correctly the first time. He does this usually once every few games. He actually does.
If I could have a three wishes, I’d use two of them in the typical way (revenge against my enemies and all-encompassing wealth and power), but the third, the third wish, I’d use that to give Dan Dickerson the gift of description. He really has no idea how to describe something in an explicit way, which is really THE MOST IMPORTANT PART OF HIS JOB. he’s like pone of those annoying friends who starts conversations in the middle of a story and expects us to understand what the hell he’s talking about.
There’s a drive and he dives and it’s caught out there deep on the warning track. what a play!
WHERE was that drive and WHO hit it? And WHO caught it WHERE? And HOW many guys were on base?!? And what’s the score?
[Driving off the road into a ditch]
Like most persons with ears, even when the on-field product sucks (which is the majority of the time), I find the repartee between Mets TV voices Gary Cohen, Ron Darling and Keith Hernandez to be reliably effervescent, even if Keith occasionally seems the more impatient of the three (or the least tolerant of female trainers in the dugout). During last Sunday’s SNY telecast of a matinee in Miami, Hernandez’ reaction to a photograph of Padres reliever Alex Torres — the first pitcher to don a bulky, newly designed cap with a protective liner — raised the ire of New York Post sports media critic Phil Mushnick, who likened the sneering to that of “a schoolyard bully”.
Yes, Torres looked odd. Yet, clearly, if he were determined to diminish the chances of a fractured skull or brain injury from a line drive to the side of his head, his head, if not his cap, was on straight.
Well, Hernandez took a macho, style-over-function stance, mocking Torres for looking “absurd.” (The same was heard when batting helmets arrived, then grew larger until they included earflaps and would be worn by base coaches.)
He wasn’t done. He suggested Torres and anyone who would wear such a thing is a coward: “If you’re scared, get a dog.”
Ugh! Either Hernandez was unaware of the dozens of annual, all-levels episodes that have pitchers rushed to hospitals — some with permanent neurological damage — or such episodes have not yet left an impression on him.
In Torres’ case, last year with the Rays, he replaced Alex Cobb after Cobb was nailed in the head with a line drive. After Saturday’s game, Torres recalled he still could hear the crack against Cobb’s head — and Torres was in the bullpen. “I’m glad he’s alive.”
Despite losing to Germany earlier today on a 55th minute strike by Thomas Müller, the US Men’s National Team advanced to the 2014 World Cup knockout stages by virtue of a 2nd place finish in Group G that was sealed with Ghana’s 2-1 defeat to Portugal at Estádio Nacional. The latter result came on the heels of the Ghana Football Federation’s last second delivery of some $3 million dollars to the team, a payment that might not have happened nearly so fast had training not been boycotted two days earlier. From the Guardian’s Stuart James :
For coach James Appiah, the stand-off could not have happened at a worse time. “Every coach wouldn’t love to be in this situation where players are requesting monies, considering the fact you are playing a very important game,” he said. “For the past two days I’ve had sleepless nights, I can’t even close my eyes. These things are normally sorted out before the competition, you can’t keep telling the players the money will come. Unfortunately, I’ve found myself in that situation, trying to cope with it. The good thing is the president of the country will step in.”
Appiah would not disclose how much exactly the Ghana squad were demanding – “The players would kill me if I revealed it,” he said, laughing – but he defended their stance. “It’s not about being paid reward for anything, it’s got to do with an appearance fee, which I think every country pays its players, not just Ghana. It’s a right.”
Asked why the players could not have the money transferred electronically, Appiah said: “The practice in Ghana has always been to pay players in cash. Some players have not got accounts in Ghana. The system in Africa is totally different to Europe. You need to consider those factors. I’m not saying that it is the best way. But we are coming from different areas and you need to understand how it works.”
(EDITOR’S NOTE : from time to time, Austin music blogger / fledgling independent label operator Norman Wanklord takes a break from his own unique brand of trenchant analysis and hard-hitting commentary to grace the pages of CSTB with, well, even more trenchant analysis and hard-hitting commentary. Upon Vice’s publication of “REASONS WHY AUSTIN IS THE WORST PLACE EVER” by noted urban planning expert Luke Winkie, Mr. Wanklord politely asked….well, actually, he begged for equal time – GC)
It’s hard for me to understand why some people who have the opportunity to bring the Austin community together, a chance to foster a greater understanding and sense of harmony, instead choose to hurt others with their elitist attitude and “I’m so fucking cool” bullshit. But enough about this blog — I hear the Pavement back catalog sales aren’t what they used to be, so perhaps it will disappear, soon.
(if Austin sucks so bad, why do artists this good looking keep moving here? Answer me that, Mr. Vice Column Person)
Instead, I’d like to turn my attention to local journalist Luke Winkie, who today took to the pages of my very favorite website (after this one) to blast the people of Austin, TX as a group of smug, insincere creeps with no greater purpose beyond novelty-drink guzzling and making fun of people who are trying to make something of themselves. Certainly, I can relate to some of Luke’s claims — no one knows better than me what it is like to sacrifice for the greater good only to be roundly ridiculed. But there’s a number of cruel, destructive arguments of his that I wish to refute. Or repudiate. Or refudiate.
“Nobody Has a Clue What His or Her Job Is”
I’m sorry, but that’s simply not true. When I’m not posting several dozen Soundcloud links a day, I’m teaching kids at one of Austin’s wonderful schools. If it weren’t for people like me, your future leaders would grow up with zero knowledge of the Declaration Of Independence, how many states there are in Canada and which was the best song on Belaire’s “Exploding Impacting”.
“Everyone Hates the Festivals That Pay Their Rent”
WHAAAT? Did Luke not read our comprehensive coverage of the Austin Psych Fest? Were my previews of cutting-edge talent playing SXSW some kind of secret that no one on the UT campus could access? What about the time Best Coast played Chaos In Tejas and I was the first to applaud that particular event finally booking a band I’d heard of? I LOVE FESTIVALS, and when I eventually organize my own, this entire beautiful city is invited. Except for Luke! But you won’t need an invitation because I’m not a fucking elitist!
“Barton Springs Is a Giant Toilet”
I’m sorry, but Luke’s copy-editor at Vice has let him down. I’m pretty sure that was supposed to read, “Beerland Is A Giant Toilet”.
“This awful little club had some of the best shows in the whole city, which means you were at risk of catching hepatitis every weekend.”
I guess even a smug San Diego-transplant looking to make a name for himself can’t be wrong all of the time. But why fixate on the negative, Luke? Emo’s closed years ago. Now we’ve got terrific, clean venues like Holy Mountain,
Metal & Lace, the Swan Dive, etc., and like me, they’re totally committed to musical diversity and the highest standards in hygiene. In fact, we co-hosted a terrific show at Holy Mountain just last Friday that featured a number of well-groomed performers strumming guitars no harder than you’d handle a new born kitten. And unlike a new born kitten, the entire event was thoroughly germ free. No hepatitis, not even the slightest hint that sexual congress might’ve occurred anywhere in the entire world, let alone Austin.
But would Luke Winkie know the first thing about this? Of course not. He was too busy writing a hatchet job about the city that’s given him so many great opportunities.
Anyhow, I’d love to go on, but I’ve got a meeting with the parents of a kid who was caught spray-painting “fucktarded” on the side of my car (and that doesn’t even make sense, right?). The bad news is, he’s suspended from school. The good news is, he’s just been offered a column with Vice.
SEE, I CAN BE FUNNY TOO.
Thanks for your time, and keep on rockin’