Thursday, October 30, 2014

Three In Five.

       I wanted seven games and a ton of classic moments out of this World Series and I got it, even if the Royals didn't win in the end.  What a terrible time to realize I don't have any Madison Bumgarner cards.
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I guess Panda and Posey will have to do.

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It is impressive to win three titles in five years but I think that San Francisco should vacate this particular title because I am not sure that Madison Bumgarner is human.  He is 4-0 with a 0.25 ERA in 36 World Series innings; that pretty much puts even Bob Gibson to shame.  And now the long 113 day slog until pitchers and catchers begins.  I didn't want this game to end.

Wednesday, October 29, 2014

Game Seven: The Royal Treatment.

       I have covered game seven before and I don't think I can do any better this evening.  At the beginning of this series, I asked for seven games and I got them, courtesy of a 23 year old dynamo Yordano Ventura. 

The Finest card on top is all I got.  Deal with it.
Game six was a 10-0 blow out, not unlike the 11-0 game seven from 1985 that brought the Royals their last championship.  I'd like a little more drama this evening, but hey, as long as Kansas City gets their victory, I'll take it any way I can get it - as I am sure they will too. 

Sunday, October 26, 2014

Football '14 Week 8: One Last Chance.

       Well, I am on the road again.  I have spent the last few days here in New Orleans drinking too much and meeting celebrities and now, finally, it is game day. 
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I am ready for a do-or-die game against the Packers on Sunday Night Football; I really will be waiting all day for Sunday Night...

You might look at that photo and wonder what is draped across my tickets...
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Somehow, I forgot my lucky stadium day helmet (I blame leaving at 4am on Thursday).  So I had to improvise and yesterday I came across this glorious thing at the Black and Gold Shop in Metarie.  And I must say, it makes me look fabulous.  Besides, what fun is football without silly hats?

At 2-4, the Saints need this win in the worst way.  In a poor division, 9-7 could easily mean a playoff spot.  If they do find a way to blow this game as they have so many this season, I do have a back-up plan.
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I got a hatbox full of junk wax cards to go through (gotta love the antique shops in this town), which, after a drink or three, should yield some amusing results.  But I hope it doesn't come to that.  I want a dominating win followed by an evening of late night decadence.  Luckily in New Orleans, it is hard to tell the victory celebrations from the defeated drownings. 

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.