For the love of the game…

salute

As we embark upon one of the great sports weekends of the year (especially when it involves our beloved P-A-T-S) I wanted to pay some homage to some fellow Boston blogger homies.  I have done this “blog” thing for close to a decade.  I’ve made no $ from it, yet I compiled enough stuff to throw together a wildly unsuccessful book (I literally threw it together – didn’t even use spell check or punctuation) a few years back.  My wife is baffled by why I continue to do “this” and my answer is always the same; ‘I love it’.  I love to type out my thoughts, opinions and convictions.  Moreso, I love to (hopefully) get  laugh out of people from time to time.

I was first intrigued by the art of the blog by my fellow Holy Cross alum and ‘Sports Guy’, Bill Simmons.   I thought I wanted to be like Bill, but …nah.  Bill sold out (hell, maybe I would too, but).  Bill became Hollywood and (shaking my head) decided that professional basketball was his niche, as if NBA fans actually give a fiddler’s fuck about his white-ass opinions on hoops. Good call, chief.  Guys like me and #3 on the list below looked up to him and even reached out at various points for council; only to be snubbed and ignored.  I know you are crushing it, Mr. Black-like-me, but piss off.

I digress.

Listen, I have no false expectations of becoming a writer on SNL or Jimmy Fallon but I can’t let that stop me from doing it; so I do.  Running my yap about sports, life, TV, work, whatever is a great release.  41 years old with a wife and 3 kids throws a lot of responsibility on a dude; and this outlet lets me be that wiseass kid I once was, so GFY. Which leads me to the tribute of some others that have done the same’ only monetarily successful.

This is about the ‘little’ guys that are making it, in a BIG way.

Nick ‘Fitzy’ Stevens

Fitzy, as most know him, is THE Masshole (or his alter ego leads you to believe).  Via his Townie News and other outlets, Fitzy captures all things Boston sports; the Patriots in pah-ticu-lah.  This guy sneaky nails it – all the time.  Did you know he freakin roasted Dennis Rodman?  He made the Dean Martin Roasts look like sleep tapes (yeah, I said ‘tapes’).  Stellar.  His “press conferences”, “Shit that Pats Fans Say” and the rest of the videos are water cooler staples for us Bean Townahs.  They’re awesome.  He now has a gig on Comcast under his (supposedly) real identity Nick Stevens and does a great job.  But, like the spectators in the Coliseum in Gladiator, they cry for Fitzy.  Keep on keepin on, my good man. And GFY. @FitzyGFY

Jerry Thornton

As a fellow pasty white Irishman, I just like to root for Jerry at all costs.  I started following his fodder when he was contributing to Barstool Sports (stand by, El Pres, you’re next) with his ‘Knee Jerk Reactions’ (now Thornography on WEEI) and articles about how Irish you are on a green color wheel.  No flies on Jerry, he has the had the balls to do stand up comedy for 20 plus years; no small feat.  He is smart, insightful, knowledgeable and one-step-ahead-of-the-average shithead New Englandah with his bantah.  His self-admitted obsession with the Patriots and ‘Fan Boy’ crest he proudly wears makes him rock solid and validates his growing brand.  Jerry got his dream job with the WEEI afternoon boys a year ago and got to witness his beloved Pats win Super Bowl 49 as a part of the “media” and not just a spectatah.  Call him Fan Boy all you like; Jerry made it.  Good for you my super honkey brother from another honkey ass mother. @jerrythornton1

Dave ‘El Pres’ Portnoy

Tipping my cap as I type this, sir.  You are the Jedi Master of the sports/man/sicko blog.  I would argue you are the Jewish Rosa Parks of typing what we are all thinking; without caring about repercussions or public backlash.  El Presidente has always put his balls on the line and has never sold out.  And while he DID sell majority interest (yeah, only $10-15M, bitch) of his “baby”, Barstool Sports, last week he still calls the shots on content  and will undoubtedly keep us cringing with each post,  ‘Wake Up’, Guess That Ass and the rest.  El Pres doesn’t give a fuck; and that’s the secret sauce.  He is true to the craft and, moreso, his fans – and there are a shitload of them. @stoolpresidente

Salute, gents!

LETS GO PATS!!!

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CIBF&C POWER RANKINGS: WORST MONDAYS OF THE YEAR

Come Monday

It’ll be alright…”

     -Jimmy Buffet

I’m calling huge bullshit here Jimmy.  Get back to San Francisco and sober up yourself and those Hush Puppies, chief.

Monday.  Just saying the word elicits an emotional reaction; mostly a negative or depressing one.  Monday is that that sadistic teacher that gives a pop quiz on a, well, Monday.  Monday is the overbearing, micro-managing boss looking for your TPS reports before you sit down at your desk.  Monday is the traffic jam.  Monday is the rain.  Monday is that coffee spill on your shirt.

Monday.  Sucks.

But as bad as almost each and every Monday is, there are some especially terrible ones we need to endure throughout the year (today being one of them).

Here are you rankings of THE WORST MONDAYS OF THE YEAR:

10.  Monday after a Screw-off-Friday

You ditched work/school for no good reason.  You may have played the fake sick card.  You may have just played hooky.  It feels so damn good when you are doing it, but you know there is going to be a price to pay.  Start thinking of excuses STAT.

9.  Monday after Thanksgiving

Coming off, what I consider, the best non-vacation week of the year, this one is hard to swallow.  You ate and drank way too much over the previous 5 days.  You need to start thinking about the anxiety of Christmas.  Oh, now you need to wear a jacket everyday.  Shit.

8.  The other 43 Mondays of the year not on this list

Yeah, all of them

7.  Monday with a hangover

While we can not assign an official calendar date these Mondays, we have all had them.  Perhaps you took it too deep at that cookout.  Went a little bat shit at the tailgate.  Perhaps an out of control Bar Mitzvah?  Doesn’t matter, staring down the barrel of a long week, you do not want to be staring down the barrel in your office trying to hold off the pukes.

6.  Monday starting a new job or school

Another date that may not occur on an annual basis, this is one of the worst.  Going into a new routine, new people, new boss/teacher/AA Sponsor….its all a giant ball of stress and now your anxiety has finally arrived.  This hallmark Monday deserves the middle finger and a Stone Cold Stunner.

 

5.  Monday with Guilt

Also known as ‘Apology  Monday’ another, unspecified date on calendar but we have all had these.  Most common in the college era of life, you wake up and know you need to face some demons.  You have a class with ‘that girl’ you made out with like the plane was going down in front of 63 people.  You have to see those dudes from the hockey house whose sink you pissed in.  You have to encounter the co-worker you drunkenly outed at the company outing Saturday afternoon.  It’s a Monday full of embarrassing “I’m sorry(ies)”.  Only remedy is bail on all commitments and just hide in bed. Time heals all.

5.  Monday (AKA Tuesday) after Labor Day

Obviously, this is not a real Monday, but you get the same feeling only worse.  Why?  Summer is officially over.  School is back in session.  All those ambitious projects you have been putting off in the name of ‘it’s summer, everyone relax’ are punching you dead in the face.  Thank God for football; the only thing that takes this sting out (See #1)

4.  Monday after Christmas*

This specific Monday ain’t all that bad.  You still have a few more ‘carefree’ days before the new year begins.  Everyone is faking it today and the rest of the week, but hey, its still freaking Monday and I would rather be in my Jam Jams watching cartoons and drinking hot chocolate/vodka.

3.  Monday after vacation

All vacations come to an end.  As refueled, re-energized and rested as you think you are, walking back in to the office, the classroom and any other obligatory location is the worst.  Insert pit in stomach.

2.  Monday after New Year’s *

This is a really bad (oh and look, it’s today!).  Excuses are gone.  Holiday cheer is dead.  Vacation is over.  Its time to get your shit together, Skippy, and it just plain sizzucks.

And our #1 Worst Monday of the Year is…..

1.  Monday after SuperBowl

Yes, this Monday get the #1 slot in our rankings.  Whether your team is in the Big Game or not, this Monday sucks the worst on a number of levels.  Football season is over. Its is freaking cold and snowy and no relief in sight.  It’s still dark out at 5PM.  There is nothing to do but sit inside and dwell on your misery (insert more of that hot vodka here).  No other sports to really give a shit about at this juncture.  But wait, look its Valentine’s Day!  Double Farts!

6 weeks until St. Patrick’s Day and March Madness.  8 weeks until The Masters.  12 weeks until you can even think about a golf club.  This really is the Grand Daddy of All Suck Ass Mondays.  You, Madam, are a giant bitch.  (NOTE: Add a SuperBowl loss by YOUR team – call the suicide hotline)

*Denotes this “Monday” can be alternate day of week depending on work/school schedule

So, yeah. Happy New Year.  Pffffftttttt.

Happy New Year!  We are all doomed!


And so as we close out half of this decade (am I the only one that thinks 1999 was like 3 years ago?) this evening, I thought I would offer a basic and easy-to-understand overview of the Presidential election landscape.  Politics is really not my thing – at all – but is this not the most bizarre field of candidates you have seen?  It’s more like a reality show than a run for the White House.

Anyway, here is a simple chapter and verse rundown of our future leader….

HILLARY CLINTON

Supporting Hillary is like supporting that stay-at-home, overbearing, bitchy PTO mom everyone hates but no one will say it even though she will ultimately screw you over and give half of those brownies you made away to the lunch lady for free at the annual bake sale.
BERNIE SANDERS

Supporting Bernie Sanders is like recreating Back to the Future. Doc Brown (Sanders) convinces naive Marty McFly (the American people) that stealing plutonium from Libyans in the name of scientific advancement could cost you your life. What does that mean? I don’t know either, but this guy is moon bat, shithouse crazy and needs a straight jacket.

DONALD TRUMP

Supporting Trump is basically sucking up to that snotty, pushy rich kid that had all the best toys, game and parties but you don’t really like him and he will inevitably screw you and everyone else over if given the chance.  HUGE!

JEB BUSH

Supporting Jeb Bush is the equivalent of becoming buddies with the head coach’s son cause you know you will make the team and get some varsity action. Just go along with what Daddy says and everything will be fine for you even if the rest of the team suffers.

CHRIS CHRISTIE

Supporting Chris Christie is like supporting pizza. Always seems like a good idea til you eat the whole fucking thing alone and now find yourself filled with regret (not to mention pizza)

AND….

As for the rest of the field….might as well flip a fricken’ coin. Who “sucks less” in this race is what we have on our hands.

Insightful, I know.

Vote your conscience because logic and reason won’t help you in November.

USA!! USA!! USA!!

HAPPY 2016!

Good night and God Bless, suckas!

After ELF: What Will Happen To Buddy Now?

White Christmas” – movie stinks, porno was pretty good.

“Miracle on 34th Street” – beat it Santa, this is a rough neighborhood for an old white dude.

“It’s a Wonderful Life” – never seen it, don’t want to.  Boo me all you want.

“How the Grinch Stole Christmas?” – getting warmer.

But the answer to the question: Greatest Christmas Movie?

ELF

For my frankincense, ELF is the best Christmas movie going.  It doesn’t even have swears, violence or nudity and I still love it.  Will Ferrell, and his ‘Buddy to Elf’ character, wearing stockings for 90 minutes and running around like a strung-out coke fiend is pure gold.  Not looking to play Siskel and the Dead Guy here but more so to express my concern for what happened to Buddy after the movie ended.

If you haven’t seen ELF (you should go straight to hell right now for starters), here is a quick summary.

Per IMDB…

Buddy (Will Ferrell) was accidentally transported to the North Pole as a toddler and raised to adulthood among Santa’s elves. Unable to shake the feeling that he doesn’t fit in, the adult Buddy travels to New York, in full elf uniform, in search of his real father. As it happens, this is Walter Hobbs (James Caan), a cynical businessman. After a DNA test proves this, Walter reluctantly attempts to start a relationship with the childlike Buddy with increasingly chaotic results.

You get the gist.  All ends well.  Buddy recognizes he is human, abandons the North Pole, reunites with his real Dad, woos the heart of a cute young lady and is now living amongst the humans in New York City.  The End.

Not so fast, midget.  It is not that simple.  Buddy has zero real life experience and suddenly is going to the live at the Top of the Food Chain; NYC?  No Elfin’ Way.  Think about all of the problems he is going to encounter once Sonny Corleone tells him to move out?

WORK:

Buddy has absolutely no skills except how to build an Etch-A-Sketch quasi-fast and decorate a damn Christmas Tree.  Sure that is helpful during the 30 days between Thanksgiving and Jesus’ birthday, but that’s it.  Come December 26, Buddy is in the unemployment line and God knows an Elf’s comp package is not going to be sufficient to survive in the Big Apple.  Before you know it, he’ll be on the street pimping himself out for Candy Canes and Maple Syrup.  Best case, he gets hired to be some type of weird fetish Elf sex slave for private parties by Asian businessmen, but that nevers end well.  Before you know it he is snorting Smarties off the fire hydrant in front of defunct FAO Schwartz,  giving Elf-jobs in the alley and screaming that he knows Santa Claus like a lunatic.  Buddy won’t see next Christmas at this rate.

PERSONAL:

Yes, he has a rich Dad and a seemingly nice Step Mom and Step Brother.  But you know how this will go, don’t you?  All of Buddy’s high energy, positive bullshit will get old, really fast.  Remember ‘Flowers in the Attic‘?  That’s what happens to step kids.  The real parent moves on with their life and the Steps get abandoned…or poisoned….or left to starve.  As it is, Buddy only lives on the four main food groups.

Now, lets just say that nice girlfriend says, “Hey Buddy, its OK, you can move in with me.”  How’s that going to go?  The guy can’t help with the rent.  He brings nothing to the conversation table except stories of fucking reindeer and woodshop.  Oh, and how about the bedroom?  Buddy has likely never had sex, right?  Even if he did, it was with a giggly midget she-elf (or SHELF) who probably cried rape to Papa Elf.  Let’s be real, if a man can’t bring home the bacon (or even Candy Corn) and doesn’t know how to use his ‘North Pole’; guess where he is headed?  Exactly.  Bye, bye Buddy.

And here we are again, Buddy is back on the streets trying to hitchhike a ride back to Santa’s Village in an attempt to re-insert himself back in to his old life like Richard Freaking Kimball in The Fugitive.  But guess what?  The Village doesn’t want you back, Big Boy.  You are a human.  They carried your ass for far too long.  Buddy, you are now a man without a country.

And so, I don’t want to drag everyone down just before the magical holiday of Christmas but, unfortunately, this tale does not end well.  In all likelihood, Buddy ends up on the business end of a long strand of licorice, hanging off the Brooklyn Bridge.

Please don’t make an ELF 2, Hollywood.  I beg you.  Leave well elf-nough alone.

But, here is a small, early Christmas gift from me to you…some of the best of ELF…

 

Merry Christmas to all and to all a Good Night!

I Fought A Dance Mom

Dance Moms.  Gross.  I have always heard bad things about your breed.  Then that eye-popping, nut-job reality show came out and it confirmed those rumors.  However, I have never had an up close and personal run in with you people until this week.  Hold that thought…

To jump into Marty McFly’s Delorean for a few seconds.  My only sibling and sister was big in to the dance stuff when she was young.  I (forcibly) attended more recitals than any boy should  – basically at the threat of violence from Dad and endless Irish guilt from Mom.  It was what it was.  150 girls ages 3-20 frolicking around a pressure cooker of a high school theater in June for what seemed to be days, but that would be an understatement.  The actual average length – start to finish – of a dance recital is a 13.5 days; on the low side.  Tell me I’m wrong?  Exactly.  Families and loved ones broil in their seats for seemingly an eternity to catch a whopping 4 minutes of  scantily clad 6 year old ‘Little Suzy’ spinning around the stage. It’s true, and you know it.

As I type this I realize some of my best friends are ‘Mothers of Dancers’ – BUT that doesn’t make them ‘Dance Moms’ – big difference.

‘Mothers of Dancers’ are just nice women that enjoy watching their little girls have some fun, learn a skill or 2 and have fun.  Did I mention “have fun”?  Women like my Mom and my wife.

‘Dance Moms’ are psychopathic, underachieving, soulless Nazis that are somehow living their “I always wanted to be a ballerina but My Mom never hugged me” dreams through their own kids.  Dance Moms are in it for the show.  Dance Moms are in it for themselves.  Dance Moms are in it to win it.  Excitedly slapping on enough makeup to embarrass Bozo the Clown coupled with an outfit that would make Lady Gaga blush…to a 5 year old.  Yes, you have some serious issues, madam.

Dance Moms are evil devil women.

I had an “encounter” with a Dance Mom 2 days ago.  My two daughters are taking a once-per-week class and having a ball.  It is leisurely and enjoyable.  This week is the Christmas show.  Awesome!  Excited to see them perform.  Wednesday was dress rehearsal.  Wife dropped them off and I was planning to pick them up.  This is when I met my new arch nemesis, ‘Debbie Dance Mom’ with the bad dye job and giant Adam’s Apple.

First off, I pull in to the high school parking lot and there is literally 247,000 cars flying in every direction.  Not only is dress rehearsal happening but every sports team from horseshoes to hockey  is practicing or has a game.  I am totally lost.  After unsuccessfully attempting to get in to about nine different entrances, I finally found where I needed to be.

Walk in and the hall is crowded with parents, volunteers and kids.  I notice the auditorium entrance is wide open and make my way inside to find my children.  Once inside, its total bedlam and I see the stage is flooded with kids including my 2.  Perfect, I’ll find a seat, watch the end of rehearsal and be on our way.

And then….

Here comes my new buddy ‘Debbie’ and here is what our “conversation” consisted of.

“Sir, sir….whar are you doing in here?” (in a loud angry voice)

“Excuse me?  I’m just here to scoop my kids, I…” I politely respond.

“Well, you can’t be in here.  There are girls changing and, and”

“OK, hold on,  I ‘m sorry.  I’ve never been here before.  Just looking for my daughters and…”

“Well, you need to get out of here, NOW.”

“Ok, ok I’m sorry.”

At this point she is throwing me out da Club, Gronk-style as if I had crawled in the heating vent with binoculars, a mustache and t-shirt  reading ‘Level 3, Yup, That’s Me!’)

But my embarrassment was starting to turn to anger.  My patience to frustration.  And her big, fat loud mouth was making matters worse.

As I exited the auditorium feeling like a Peeping Tom, I felt the eyes of these other parents wash over me as if I was headed for the Principal’s office.

I was almost in a state of shock.  What the mother effer was that?  There was no need for her to attack me?  And just as I was wrapping my brain around this episode, it continued.

‘Debbie’ did not realize I was still just a few steps away from her and she proceeded to relay what happened, again in that loud, assholey voice, to the entire atrium.

Do you believe this Dad just walked right in the middle of things?  There are girls changing and he paraded right down to the….”

And that is when I saw red and this slob was going to get piece of my mind.

Hey!”  I quipped as I ducked back around the corner in to her line of sight, “I am RIGHT HERE!”

Without a flinch, she comes back at me with “Yeah, I see you there.”

Oh man, I wanted to morph in to Ike Turner at that moment.

Look, lady (nothing more demeaning than throwing “Lady” at someone), I apologized.  I’ve never been here. The doors are wide open and none of these nice people corrected me.  NO need for this behavior.  Put up a sign or something!”

Well, guess what, I’m the sign!” she fired back.

Now I was having blurry visions of OJ.

BUT, before things got really out of hand, I simply smiled at her smug, ruddy face and excused myself from the building to cool off.  Also, I naturally needed to check my windowless, white van with ‘FREE CANDY, Puppies and Unicorns’ spray painted across it – cause, ya know, I am a pedophile according to this crazy broad.

Called home.  Exploded the story to the Mrs. and then I just let it go.  Went back inside, politely greeted my kids and headed out.

The ultimate validation was, as I was leaving, a “Mother of a Dancer” chased me down and told me how out of line ‘Debbie’ was.  I thanked her and never looked back.

Keep your head on a swivel this season, Debbie.  Christmas may come early for you, if you know what I am saying?

 

 

 

 

 

 

Booze as a disability? Is this Bar open?

By: Scott Wolf 

Former head coach Steve Sarkisian has sued USC for $30 million for wrongful termination and failure to help him treat his alcoholism.
Former USC coach Steve Sarkisian filed a lawsuit against the university on Monday saying he was “kicked to the curb” instead of being allowed to seek treatment for alcoholism.

Sarkisian’s lawsuit, filed in Los Angeles Superior Court, blamed athletic director Pat Haden for wrongful termination and seeks $12.6 million, which is the remainder of his contract at USC, plus unspecified punitive damages for “mental anguish.” He also blamed his high-stress job and collapse of his marriage for his alcohol dependency.

The lawsuit claimed Sarkisian “pleaded” with Haden to give him time away from his job to seek treatment, but Haden placed him on indefinite leave on Oct. 11 and fired him by text the next day.

————————————————————————————————————-

Booze is a disability? How is making everything awesome even midnight Christmas Mass a disability! I’m kidding, of course alcohol is a disability.  If you have to start wearing Velcro sneakers because the booze won’t let you tie your shoes, then its a disability. If you wake up next to a midget in clown makeup, then its a disability. If you start to understand the Asian guy taking your order at Wah Sang at 3am, then its a disability. If you start to think “You know I would do Caitlin Jenner in a pinch” then its a disability.The problem with this story is did Coach inform his boss of his issue?  Nobody is buying that Sarkisian remembers speaking with his bosses about his alcohol issue in the first place. The only thing this guy remembers is that the packy opens at 10am and takes cash only (or cheerleader underwear in certain circumstances).  Yes, the guy has a problem. Any time you wake up face down at a podium… in the middle of a spaghetti dinner…while you were making the speech…you might want to put the Schnapps down.

(Where is this bartender?)

The real problem in this situation was Sarkisian was trying live his college years all over again. Who among us hasn’t done the same thing? Maybe you stop in at a local watering hole on your way home from work.  Proceed to down Fireball shots, play Buck Hunter, talk about how the Swatch watch was your idea and then argue with the wooden Indian statue about who could serve a beer faster Woody or Sam Malone (The correct answer is Woody by the way.  Those corn-fed Midwesterners know how to work.  Just ask Orvil Redenbacher.) then maybe we should talk?

(Christ buddy, its almost 10am, bartender what the fuck)

Drinking on the job is bad mojo. Sure, at lunch, smoke breaks, walking to the bathroom; but while working is just not cool. The big question is did he deserve to lose his job because he was brushing his teeth with Doctor McGuilicuddy?’s  Sadly, yes he did. Unless he went into his boss’ office and said this simple phrase “I have a problem and need help“. He has to admit the problem or there really isn’t anything for USC to do but fire him. Believe me, I know something about addiction. If I buy one more season of Greys Anatomy on DVD my wife is throwing me out on my ass.  I hope Coach gets the help he needs.

(as I sip my Rum and Coke)