skip to main |
skip to sidebar
Every writer, at heart, is a bit of a conspiracy theorist. We have to be; it makes us better writers. Being fearful of other folks taking our words and, ultimately, our ideas is an occupational hazard of sorts. Let's face it, the art of "the steal" is as old as the craft of writing itself. (Actually, I'm pretty sure one couldn't exist without the other.)
As a result, I was hesitant to throw my sports + thoughts hat in the ring when the media giant Barstool Sports posted an open job invite back in February. After all, applying meant giving one of the most influential sports' blogs of all time -- the competition, so to speak -- a heads up that my blog exists.
Tough spot, indeed.
I came to the conclusion I had nothing to lose so I WILLINGLY opened the books to Barstool Sports. Who am I not too, right?! It's Barstool Sports! El Presidente's success is proven and showcased by his masterful use of the written word, the Barstool empire he's created and, consequently, the followers he's converted using "Viva La Stool!" as a unifying battle cry. I'm a fan. Shit, I even "like" the Stool on facebook and that's more commitment than my ex-wife ever received.
True story.
I've often wondered if El Prez ever took the time to visit my site or facebook page to size me up since sending my application. Officially, I'll never know, but a recent facebook status update makes me think he just may have:
s+t exhibit A:
s+t exhibit B:
Now I'm not insinuating plagiarism or anything. It's the blogosphere, baby. Public domain. (Plus, we all know I don't have copyrights to the phrase, "City of Championship Indeed.") I'm simply saying there is an eerie similarity between his post and mine which preceded it by about 20 hours. I'm also saying there's a chance, albeit a small one, El Prez took a minute to visit the world of sports + thoughts.
And, during his brief visit, maybe one of my status updates invaded his subconscious resulting in the mirrored posts. Or maybe it's just a meaningless coincidence that I'm assigning value to.
Like that time I thought I saw Bill Belichick's face in a piece of chicken parmigiana back in '07.
For those of you who don't know, I was fortunate enough to receive my undergrad education at Providence College. An education, by the way, that afforded me employment opportunities outside the confines of Rhode Island. My education also learned me the value of spreading my wings to reach beyond my roots, dear readers. Looks like Friarville is good for more than over-hyped and under-performing basketball teams.
Who knew, right?
From NYC to New Jersey to D.C. to Virginia to Denver to L.A. and back to RI, sprinkled with a few stops abroad and two cross country road trips, my oddyssey brought me many places. And it seems the same education that taught me to get moving imparted a bit of reflective wisdom, as well, allowing me to say: it's good to be home. It's also good to be the king.
But that's a different story for a different time.
-----------------
Quick Thinking
------------------
-- The great irony of golf's current landscape is Tiger Woods, injured or not, can't compete in the PGA world he single-handedly created.
-- Goodbye, Tiger Woods 2012. Hello, Rory McIlroy 2013?
-- Wonder if Tiger will be an unlockable player...
-- Salt in the Wound Award of the Week goes to the Boston Bruins for winning a championship in a sport I don't care about while labor unrest means we may not get to watch football, a sport I care very much about, in September.
[QUICK THINKING SIDE NOTE: START]
I purposely misspelled odyssey up there.
Oh, and end the fucking lockout.
[QUICK THINKING SIDE NOTE: END]
-- Extra Salt in the Wound Honorable Mention is awarded to playmate Crystal Harris for calling off her engagement to Playboy mogul Hugh Hefner.
-- You read that correctly. The nude model pictured below was engaged to the one man responsible for creating a world where nude models can actually become celebrities and she broke up with him.
-- There's a blonde joke in there somewhere...
-- I guess the Mayans were right: the end of the world is nigh.
-- Well, either that, or Viagra has shelf life.
-- BLAMMO!
-- Speaking of erect shelf lives, we live in a world where promiscuous women are celebrated. Famously, in fact. Yet the indiscretions of "men in power" are still considered newsworthy?
-- Really?
-- Comic fodder, sure. But newsworthy?
-- Don't You Go Judging Advice of the Week goes to all my females readers out there in defense of my sexting brethren: they're just playing by the rules of the game, ladies. If licking some balls on camera can propel Paris Hilton, Kim Kardashian, et al. to A-List Celebrity status, why can't texting a picture of your junk do the same for a budding politician?
-- Eddie Griffin, we turn our sexting eyes to you.
-- The Red Sox train is making all its scheduled stops and keeps running over any opponent unfortunate enough to be standing on the tracks.
-- Wish the MBTA commuter rail met those same standards back in '99.
-- Should I be concerned that one of my coworkers, a Vietnam vet who murdered his wife upon returning home as a result of PTSD back in 1973, openly reads books about serial killing and serial killers?
-- Yup. I think so, too.
-- Nothing says "I give up" more than a man walking 2 steps behind his wife in the mall while carrying her big ass purse as she talks on her cell phone.
-- Other than Luongo's game 7 performance, of course.
I use this forum to poke fun at hockey. (And I do it quite often, actually.) But, the truth of the matter is, today I wish I were a hockey fan. More specifically, a Boston Bruins fan.
Seriously.
I wish I were a Bruins fan because the joy of victory felt by each genuine fan when the Bruins won Lord's Stanley Cup passed me by. And isn't that the allure of following any sport? To somehow validate our lives through victory on the field of...er, um, rink of play?
Sports allow us as spectators -- whoever we are -- to share in the accomplishment of a group of elite athletes. Athletes, by the way, who have been gifted with skills the less fortunate pay to watch. Athlete who have also sacrificed most of their lives for that one career defining moment we, as fans, get to share in: winning a championship. And, despite that build up, all I felt was when the Bruins won was, "So what."
Before the lynching starts, let me say this: I understand my unethusiastic response is not remotely worthy of the effort that was put forth to evoke it. Bruin Nation has waited 39 years for this moment.
I know.
But does it really make me unappreciative, though? The answer is simple: No, it doesn't. All it does is solidifies me as a non-hockey fan. And, as strange as this might sound to some of you, I need to stay true to my "non-hockeyfandomness" without getting caught up in the hype or hopping on the already over-crowded bandwagon to stay true to who I am as a fan.
Pink hats don't look good on me, anyway.
As is often the case, dear readers, one's greatest strength can often be their biggest flaw. And, while I try to "idiom proof" my life and follow a path void of predictability, it appears that I, too, am continually guilty of allowing one of my attributes to adversely effect my life.
The good side of the coin reads, "Strong willed. Determined." The other side, however, reads, "Thick headed. Stubborn."
Now, I'm not talking about the kind of stubbornness that implies I'm always right. (Because, well, I'm am. It's inherent. Duh.) What I am talking about is the kind of stubbornness that gives me delusions of overcoming any issue in my life, specifically medical ones, by effort alone. That's right. Not by medicine. Not by doctors. But by effort.
Not your garden variety crazy, is it?
I could easily say, "Blame an accident, a 10-day 'he'll never walk again' comma and two and a half years of 'defying medical expectations' rehab." But I can't "blame" those events.
I have to blame me.
What I really need to do, y'all, is realize singular effort is not the mark of manhood and asking for help is not a sign of weakness but, rather, of awareness. Moving forward, I'll try to be more aware of those very important distinctions.
But no promises.
-------------------
Quick Thinking
-------------------
-- So I finally had a chance to watch Black Swan and according to the movie, as far as I can tell, all it takes to be a great ballerina is finding the time to masturbate.
-- Well, that, and having a lesbian encounter with Mila Kunis.
-- Is it too late for me to pursue my ballerina career?
-- Shout out to my nephew, Brennan, for proving a Joyce boy's charm is capable of most anything.
-- Even a quiet moment with the face of Red Sox Nation, Heidi Watney.
-- She must have been confused by the "Varitek" on the back of his jersey...
-- Just playing, B. It's in the DNA, nephew. Enjoy the ride.
-- Celebrity Look-A-Like of the Week Award goes to the bearded, Stanley Cup playoff version of Bruin Nation goal minder Tim Thomas for looking like the wolfpack's lovable loser, Zach Galifianakis.
-- And, remember, it's not a purse. It's called a satchel.
-- Good Samaritan Award of the Week Award goes to yours truly for gifting a Northampton homeless man my leftover mac-and-cheese with duck confit while exiting The Dirty Truth on Saturday night.
-- The homeless man's response earns him Question of the Week honors when, following my generosity, he asked: "Don't you have a fork?"
-- So much for "beggars can't be choosers," huh?
-- My knee-jerk, Belgian ale induced quip, "Nope, no fork. I do have a job, though." earns me the Quote of the Week accolades.
-- Those who know me best know I said it.
-- And I'm not saying that's a good thing.
-- It may have also earned me the much less coveted Good Deed of the Week Gone Bad Award.
-- Kinda like that time I tried to hail a taxi in Denver back in '07...
