The world of sports can be the greatest of givers and the cruelest of takers. In the Fall we have the ending of the baseball season that bleeds in perfectly with the beginning of football, and at the beginning of the summer we have the meat of the baseball season packed in with the end of the NBA playoffs. These are fantastic times that have me glued to my television and doing my part to keep Boston Brewing Company in business. But then, inevitably, there is the summer abyss and the world that is sport right after the Super Bowl.
Welcome to sports purgatory.
Ok, if you’re not Catholic, the sports waiting room. Continue reading Eat My Sports: Love, the Melo drama
On Sunday the 2016 NFL season will come to a close with the Atlanta Falcons and New England Patriots squaring off in Houston for the right to be the most hated team in the NFL for at least the next year. I’m hoping for a decent game (any way the Pats lose is a decent game in my book) and aside from Denver’s two Super Bowl appearances in the past few years, recent history has promised us a close one.
Now, I’m not here to talk about predictions or how many times I hope Tom Brady gets slammed to the turf, you see, I’m a betting man. So naturally, the most interesting thing about each Super Bowl is the prop bets. Let’s see how many times we’ll hear “Omaha” this year.
10/1 Odds of Joe Buck being clean shaven for the broadcast
What? You thought I was going to break down if Julio Jones would be the first to score? Joe Buck is the single most annoying broadcaster of all time. That has nothing to do with this, I just figured it needed to be said. Buck traditionally rocks a beard throughout the playoffs, because, well, he can. That being said, I would take the 10/1, seems like easy odds. Continue reading Eat My Sports: Super LI
Here at SeriouslyGuys, we don’t like to beat a dead horse, we like to beat that horse until we have to be pulled off that thing a la Michael Bolton in Office Space. That being said, like many of you know, or just plain don’t want to admit, Donald Trump was sworn in as our nation’s 45th president last Friday. Depending on your view of the first five days he’s been in office, you’re either really happy, really sad, or just dying of laughter from the deliriousness you feel.
For those of you who feel the latter, Trump and his cronies have been giving you almost a week’s worth of gems. These include Trump saying there were 3.5 million cases of voter fraud in last November’s election (with no sources or facts to back the claim up), Denis Leary lookalike, Kellyanne Conway’s “alternative facts” pivot, and the man who took press conference classes from Roger Goodell after the Ray Rice debacle, Sean Spicer, who in addition to hating Dippin’ Dots also “can disagree with facts.” Continue reading Eat My Sports: Alternative Facts Edition
One of my biggest problems as a sports fan, and I think a lot of people come across this problem when their teams continually find epic ways to suck, is I am a sports masochist. Specifically, in my lifetime, it has been being a fan of the New York Knicks.
In the past 16 years it has been one embarrassment after another. Whether it was the truly awesome experience of having Stephon Marbury (one of two professional athletes I can name with a tattoo on their face, but at least Mike Tyson is funny), the relentless overpaying of past their prime ballhogs, or the mortgaging of over five years worth of draft picks to get Carmelo Anthony when he was going to be a free agent later in the year anyways.
Simply put, the New York Knicks keep finding even worse ways to make you feel optimistic. Enter Derrick Rose. Continue reading Eat My Sports: The Exorcism of Derrick Rose
We’re here folks, it’s down to this, we’ve made it down to the final weeks and we have two choices, and they both suck. Congratulations, America, either Cleveland or Chicago will win the World Series, and neither of their insufferable fan bases will let us hear the end of it when they do.
Under normal circumstances, having either of these teams win wouldn’t be as much of an issue, but these are troubled times, folks, and there’s an unprecedented level of douche we will have to suffer.
First off, let’s talk about Cleveland, the city that God forgot. Cleveland is not a tortured city, because your teams have to come close to winning a title before you can be lumped into that category. But Ohio now has this weird line of thinking that because LeBron James carried the Cavaliers to the NBA title, that somehow that was going to carry over to the Browns, and that it was the reason for the Indians success this year. Continue reading Eat My Sports: We Deserved Better Choices Than These Two
Over the past 10 and a half years, neither Bryan McBournie nor I have shied away from being avid Boston Red Sox fans. Also, should this survive another 10 and a half years, we won’t shy away from it then either. With that being the case, neither of us have bothered ogling over the single best final season of any player in any sport. I don’t care who your favorite team or player is, David Ortiz called his shot. He announced his final season, knowing the spectacle it would become and still delivered a .315 batting average, 38 home runs and 127 RBI.
Those are not I’m leaving because my skills are diminishing numbers.
Realistically I think Papi could’ve played at least one, maybe two more seasons, but a legend in his time, and trust me, he knows this, wants to go out with you remembering them at their best. The second-greatest Red Sox player of all-time after Ted Williams was extremely self aware of how he wanted to be remembered, and this season allowed us to live through one more season of Ortiz at his best and we won’t forget it. Continue reading Eat My Sports: Adios, Big Papi
Unless you live under a rock, you undeniably know two things as of today:
1) Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie have split (I called this back in 2005, better late than never).
2) Spearheaded by 49ers backup quarterback Colin Kaepernick, players around the NFL are attempting to raise awareness for racially profiled police brutality by kneeling or raising their fists during The National Anthem.
Sorry, Brangelina, this column isn’t about you, and it’s also not about the NFL players or their cause. No, I like to keep things light. Today, we are paying tribute to you, Lee Zeldin! Continue reading Eat My Sports: Brangelina Filed For Divorce. You Are Welcome Colin Kaepernick
We are now officially two evenings away from the NFL season kicking off and all I have to say is thank God. Sundays have been an abominable bore since February and now I finally have something on TV I care about watching Monday, Thursday and Friday. Life is good.
Now, the only problem with having a sports column is that I feel obligated to make a pick, like everyone else as to who will win the Super Bowl. Only problem with that is this year I can narrow it down to a handful of teams who are contenders but I can’t seem to pull the trigger, as everyone is flawed. Continue reading Eat My Sports: Football Is Back And I have No Idea Who To Pick To Win The Super Bowl
It’s the end of August folks. That means one thing if you are red-blooded American: football is almost here. More importantly than football being back, fantasy football is back! Where for three glorious months you get to take credit for the accomplishments of others. You’re the only person on the planet who knew Antonio Brown was good, you had the guts to draft one Robert Gronkowski, ONLY YOU KNEW THAT AARON RODGERS CAN THROW A FOOTBALL REALLY WELL!
Over the years I’ve come to acknowledge how both stupid and genius the concept of fantasy football is, but the best part is that it leads to smack talk and bragging rights amongst you and your friends. Continue reading Eat My Sports: It’s The Most Wonderful Time of the Year
The 2016 NFL season is almost upon us and the collective American fan base is about to lose their mind over it. It’s been a relatively tame offseason since the league’s scripted way to have Peyton Manning retire with one more ring happened, at least until this week.
Going back to December, players linked to the Al Jazeera report about PED use have been asked to meet with the league. Only one, the aforementioned Manning, actually did. This leaves a prominent class of James Harrison, Clay Matthews and Julius Peppers among others who are being required to meet with the league and explain their connection or face an indefinite suspension from the league. And the overall sentiment is … no one cares. Continue reading Eat My Sports: Steroid News, No One Cares