As we reach the literal worst part of the sports calendar, I have to reach for things to write about. This year, it’s the NBA trade deadline which actually ended up being one of the more entertaining days in the NBA in recent memory.
This past summer, reigning NBA Finals’ losers, the Cleveland Cavaliers, re-shaped their roster by trading away a 25-year-old superstar in Kyrie Irving, away for Isaiah Thomas’ bum hip and scrap metal. They also decided that it would be a great idea to bring in Dwayne Wade, who hasn’t been useful in about five years, Derrick Rose, who hasn’t been useful since before Obama’s re-election and some other moves that really don’t make any sense. Continue reading Eat My Sports: Cav It All
Welcome back Eat My Readers! Of course, you all know the outcome of Super Bowl LII by now. Nick Foles Face and the Eagles thwarted the dynastic Patriots 41-33, Philadelphia has all but burned to the ground under police-supervised white privilege, and Bryan McBournie is using the pages of his TB12 method book to soak up his tears before the Pats go on another run next year.
In my attempt at further hacking Bill Simmons’ career, I realized it’s been a while since we’ve done a running diary (almost eight years, actually). So, as the Super Bowl unfolded and Philly was about to be turned into carnage, here are exchanges between McBournie and I during the Super Bowl: Continue reading Eat My Sports: Super Bowl LII Running Diary Edition
This week’s Sports Illustrated cover is focused on the upcoming Master’s at Augusta National. The cover, shows one Tiger Woods, with his back to the camera, and the cover simply says “back.” When I first saw this, all I could bring myself to think was “back? Really?” Now don’t get me wrong, I regard 1996-2008 Tiger Woods as a top-five athlete, ever. No one was more dominant, no one could command a crowd and instill fear into his opponents like that version of Woods. But 2009-2013 Woods? Unhealthy, inconsistent and has clearly lost his mojo since his ability to pick up Applebee’s hostesses was taken away from him. Continue reading Eat My Sports: Back
Unless you’ve lived in a bubble for the past three days, you’ve undoubtedly heard of a few things. 1. Jesus beat out LL Cool J for best “don’t call it a comeback.” 2. April, fools. 3. Louisville basketball player Kevin Ware had one of the most gruesome injuries we’ve seen, ever, and the kid with a compound fracture was crying for his team.
First things first, props to Louisville’s training staff for going out to cover up the injury and shield Ware from having anyone see his leg that had just snapped at a 90-degree angle. They knew how to protect their player. Second things first, CBS should be ashamed of themselves for replaying that injury as many times as they did. Unnecessary not only for the general public, but for Ware. Majority of us will never go through anything as painful as having one of your legs snapped in half, and CBS kept playing for ratings.
The classiest of the entire situation ended up being Ware himself, who while writhing in pain was yelling for his team to win the game, thus in a painful situation, shows us occasionally why college athletics has more passion than the pro game.
College basketball has a lot of one and done kids who are using college simply as a stepping stone for the NBA, a lot of kids are there for education, and playing because they truly love the game. Before Sunday, I had never heard of Ware, but when I did, and I read about his injury, what struck me is that in the midst of the most pain in his life, he was crying out for his team, not about his leg.
The Philadelphia Phillies’ AAA affiliate, the Lehigh Valley Iron Pigs, are set to unveil the biggest splash in team history, a urinal gaming system. The system, which, go figure, was designed by the Brits, turns everyday fans’ pee into a game, it’s the ultimate race against time.
Essentially when Fan A decides to throw a few back because, you know, he’s at a AAA game for the Phillies, and our subject needs to let the excess run the base paths before the seventh inning stretch, he steps into the bathroom and at the urinal there is a TV monitor. Now apparent, this monitor knows you’re there, and activates the urinal gaming system that is designed to turn the direction and force of your urine into a game played on the monitor.
What we want to know is how is this even possible, and it took Philadelphia this long to adapt something like this? The Guys don’t know many things (that statement is false, we know a lot of things, and if we don’t, we’ll make up a believable sounding answer that, while incorrect, makes us look like geniuses) but we do know that we’ve been turning going to a men’s urinal a game far longer than this game has been out, and have not been getting paid for it.
But it does make you wonder, if someone is going to develop this, why stop there? Is there a model for the other toilets in a restroom? Why are they having a biased model that doesn’t lend itself to be used in both men’s and women’s restroom areas? Are they developing one for New York City subways since everyone just pees where they want to there anyways? Is there one behind the Green Monsterif Manny Ramirez ever comes back to Boston?
There have been more questions than answers posed, but all we really know for sure is, we want one.
It’s that time again, loyal readers. The time of year when local governments turn a blind eye to illegal gambling happening in every office, the time of year where everyone is a college basketball expert, the time where our brackets screw us out of the office pool and the new guy wins, it’s March Madness folks, and this year, I have no freaking clue.
My experiences in actually filling out a bracket is not as deep as one would think. My first bracket that I filled out was in 2007 when I had Kevin Durant’s Texas Longhorns cutting down the nets, wrong. Fastforward to 2009 when I had Syracuse bringing home the trophy instead of a clear cut champion, UNC. So needless to say my picks haven’t always been those of an expert. Continue reading Eat My Sports: Sheets of integrity
Today at 4:01PM EST the free agency era for 2013 got underway with some really confusing cuts (Nnamdi Asomugah, Darrius Heyward-Bey), retirements we we weren’t real (I’m looking at you, Tony Gonzalez) and the beginning of overspending on wide receivers. Continue reading Eat My Sports: Free agency
One of the more unfortunate parts of thesis part of the sports year is that until baseball actually starts in a month, we are left just with basketball. And even more unfortunate is that means as long as the Miami Heat maintain this nucleus, they will be one of four teams capable of grabbing the title.
The latest incarnation of the talents in South Beach has ripped off a team-record and current league-best 14-straight wins, and resident throne of the dbs,one LeBron James is playing the best basketball of his career. Continue reading Eat My Sports: Heating up
Last year I called fellow Guy and Red Sox enthusiast, Bryan McBournie in the middle of February. Normally I take on the reporting of pitchers and catchers as the return of baeball, and the kickoff of eight months of Red Sox games. This time, I didn’t care. I actually called my shot in December of 2011, after the Red Sox hired Bobby Valentine, and said it would be a disaster, but when I called McBournie I said “I don’t even want to watch a single game this year, it’s going to be bad dude, really bad.” It was then noted that this was the earliest I had ever given up on the Red Sox, and regrettably, I was right.
After the fried chicken and beer incident coupled with the worst September collapse in baseball history, the Sox could only do one thing to make things worse, hire Valentine. So, to prolong the misery, and remind Sox’ fans of what being a self-loathing baseball fan means, ownership brought in the one guy that could make things worse, traded off the guy we spent three years trying to acquire (Adrian Gonzalez), ran off or home grown All-Star and pissed him off enough to sign with our hated rival (Kevin Youkilis) and dumped the one pitcher on the roster that could still deliver a above-90mph fastball (Josh Beckett). So why watch? I couldn’t, every day I would recap our latest daily disaster on ESPN.com and just hoped that the season would end, the Yankees wouldn’t win and somehow Alex Rodriguez would get busted for something. Consider my 2012 season as a baseball fan 3-3 on that account. Continue reading Eat My Sports: Cautiously optimistic
Thanks ESPN, for letting the whole world know of a big secret this past week, that Michael Jordan turned 50. Yes, without you we would not have had a week long lovefest on every single one of your stations that just sucked up to him and, oh, by the way ignored the pretty obvious glaring truths that he has failed miserably at everything since 1998, is a compulsive gambler (a quality that may or may not have played a part in his father’s death) and was responsible for “Space Jam,” a film that took place on Earth, not in space.
My issue is not with that MJ had coverage from ESPN, but ESPN has become so diluted, and so living in fear of the athlete, that it now fails to cover the bad parts along with the good. Jordan was a once in a lifetime, iconic athlete who started the phase of an athlete being a marketable celebrity. Go to any country in the world, some kid on every street is wearing his shoes. Show the Air Jordan silhouette, everyone knows what it is. But Jordan had big time, glaring flaws, that ended up being detriments to himself, his teams and his family. Continue reading Eat My Sports: MJ is 50, and I still don’t care