Tuesday, October 21, 2014

Blow My Mind Your Royal Flyness.

       I was kinda stumped for a player that was both a Royal and Giant, at least one that I had a page of.  Then a little serendipity happened yesterday when I looked at Barry Bonds' page in my retired player book...
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                                                                       look ^^^^ right there.

Vida Blue!  Of course!  Well, in the grand scheme of things, I am sure he would rather forget his underwhelming time in Kansas City (cocaine is a hell of a drug...).  And yes, there are others who have done this but this was the only page I found that had a player with both teams (though now that I look at that list, I am pretty sure I could have gone with a Gaylord Perry page as well). 

As you may or may not know, before these playoffs started, I threw my support behind the Kansas City Royals.
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I am not about to spoil a good thing while it is going so well or jump off a bandwagon that is oh so comfy.  Since I have no true rooting interest in this series, I just want a seven game set full of cliffhanger games and things that amaze and astound.  And if the fans of a sadsack mid-western team can get off a 29-year schneid, all the better. It will give me some hope for my sadsack east coast team.


Oh, curious about the title to this post? Well, everyone can't help themselves but to use some line from, or even debase, that "Royals" song by Lorde, but why has no one embraced (or denounced) anything by the venerable indie band They Might Be Giants?  Everything right is wrong again.

Monday, October 20, 2014

A Little Food For Thought On A Monday Morning...

In 2001, Barry Bonds, a player in his late 30's who had come back from many injuries, including a career threatening one, broke one of his sport's most hallowed records.
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Bonds was vilified; his motives questioned, his work ethic dismissed, rumors and hearsay reported as fact.  His word was not taken.  The media made up its mind and demanded asterisks, or worse, just decided the record didn't count. 

In 2014, Peyton Manning, a player in his late 30's who had come back from many injuries, including a career threatening one, broke one of his sport's most hallowed records.
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Manning was celebrated;  his motives commended, his work ethic lauded, any questions about him was dismissed as sour grapes and hate.  His word was taken as gospel.  The media made up its mind and decided that he was everything right with a sport where so much has gone wrong recently. 


Am I missing something?  This can't just be a black/white thing, can it?  Is it just the way PEDs are viewed in their respective sports?  I mean, Manning plays a game where HGH is ingested like so much candy, so are we to believe that he came back from an injury that would cripple most people through only a lot of hard work and a good diet?  And all any hack writer can ever talk and/or joke about is the size of Barry Bonds' head.  Have you fucking seen Peyton Manning's head?!?!?

The fucking thing doesn't even fit inside his helmet!

Look, I am no Barry Bonds apologist.  I am a baseball hipster, I hated Barry Bonds way way way before it was cool.   But why has no one even questioned Peyton about the comeback from his injury?  Why has no one pointed out that Manning is playing as well or better at age 38 than just about any other quarterback ever (and that after a catastrophic injury)?  Most QBs are absolutely finished by age 36-37 - Unitas, Montana, Marino, Fouts, the list goes on and on.  Yet Peyton keeps breaking records and playing better than he ever has and all the media can do is fall over themselves to fawn over his greatness.  If no one cares about PEDs in football, why are they the end of the fucking world in baseball?  I feel like I'm taking crazy pills.

Sunday, October 19, 2014

Football '14 Week 7: I Still Just Can't Even.

       I am like an overwrought teenage girl right now, football and all the nonsense from earlier this year still has me with a bitter taste in my mouth.  I will watch the Saints today, but I probably won't enjoy it.  In the meantime...
Here is a little reminder of better times; this magazine is my latest Listia pick up and it goes nicely with my Super Bowl coffee table book.  Living in New Jersey, I wasn't able to get all the cool local swag back in 2010, so I am overjoyed when I find it for free online.  And yes, those are Christmas Ornaments on the left, but I am sad to report they have been left out all year.  Don't judge me!

Friday, October 17, 2014

The Giants Win the Pennant!

A little piece of useless trivia for you (ethnic name assumption edition). 

Travis Ishikawa was born in the US (Seattle to be exact).

Yet Bobby Thomson was not (he was born in Glasgow Scotland).

The Giants win the pennant! The Giants win the pennant! The Giants win the pennant!

Sunday, October 5, 2014

Football '14 Week 5: October (No) Surprise.

       I want to apologize to all five of you who look forward to my weekly football posts.  The awful things that have been swirling around the NFL this year combined with the beyond awful way the league has reacted to them has made my stomach turn and left me unable to enjoy football very much.  Now that the calender has turned to October, as usual, the NFL will start inundating us with their pink regalia.

I find it in poor taste that the league pays such lips service to something as important as breast cancer and then goes out of its way to profit off of it without actually giving much to charity.  This year they are "toning down" the pink to try to lay low until all the bad pub dies down and they can go back to being the money-making juggernaut they usually are.

Now, if the NFL had any gumption or dignity, after all the Ray Rice, Greg Hardy, Ray McDonald, Adrian Peterson (isn't it sad that I have to list so many and could keep going) stories, they would have switched off the pink this year and made it purple for domestic violence awareness, which also has its "month" in October... 

But sadly, there is no shady charity for the NFL to exploit and then profit from on colorized memorabilia, so that would never happen.