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Archive for May, 2008

The Weekend Grab Bag

It’s the weekend, looks like it could be a crappy one, so that means perfect timing for a crappy Weekend Grab Bag.

 

>  The Indians start an 11-game road trip today in Kansas City (followed by Texas and Detroit). This trip could be the key to the season. Lose 9-of-11 like they have in the past 11 games and it could very well mean trades to build for next year, i.e. bye-bye C.C. Go 7-4 on the trip and they could be right back in the Central Division race. The Indians aren’t really this bad of a hitting team are they? Trades need to take place and the Tribe has pieces to put together a big trade, but just what kind of trade may be determined after this trip.

 

>  The Lakers are back in the NBA Finals and everyone is happy for, even praising Kobe. I want to know why. Did everyone forget how he quit on the team last year? How he quit in Game 7 of the Phoenix series the year before that? Did everyone forget about his cry baby rant in the parking deck to a couple of teenagers? (That’s leadership. You like to see your superstar and leader buckling under the pressure of two skaters in a parking garage.) Did everyone forget how training camp came and he said he wanted to stay in LA and he was over those trade demands yet after a slow two weeks to start the season, he wanted to be traded again? Did everyone forget how he realized the Lakers had talent and he started caring again? Did everyone forget when the Lakers robbed Memphis for Pau Gasol, he suddenly became the MVP and said he wanted to be a Laker for life? Really? For life? Two months ago you wanted nothing to do the organization. Let’s not forget the only reason the Lakers didn’t win five or six championships is because he didn’t want to share the spotlight with Shaq anymore and single-handedly broke up the three time NBA champions. Oh yeah, he raped a woman too. Did we all forget that? I hate that everyone is praising Kobe. He’s a selfish baby that only does well when he wants to and yet somehow he has everyone cheering for him. I don’t get it. I hate Kobe.

 

> Game 6 of the Eastern Conference Finals is tonight and Rip may not play against Boston because a;kjsfoiw  jfoiwj oijfdoiaj jdf wfjqwoi djoeijw q hjwj fofij  ffjjffj ….. I just don’t care. 

 

> This was a small headline in the Plain Dealer today, “Blacks fare well in the NBA.” A related headline read, “Fat people are fat.”

 

> Terrell Owens and Tank Johnson spoke up for Pacman Jones to commissioner Goodell. They said they would monitor and mentor him if Pacman was reinstated. Expect Pacman to miss another year.

 

>  The Memorial Tournament is being held in Dublin, Ohio. Hated blogger friend Graig is attending. Tune into the telecast to see Graig run across the greens, kicking golf balls and getting kicked out of the tournament. 

 

>  If you want someone to root for in the Memorial (since Tiger isn’t playing), go for first round leader Matthew Goggin. The 33-year old Australian is a guy struggling to stay on tour and back in 1999, on his birthday, he partied so hard with Gary Nicklaus (son of Jack) that he couldn’t play the next day. That’s our kind of guy.

 

That’s a good thought to start the weekend on. Enjoy.

 

 

Fratello

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Arguments about flopping and the HOF

The NBA announced it will fine players for “flopping” starting next season. This bothers me. Flopping is part of the game. The only reason flopping is “out of control” is because people say it is. I disagree. When taking a charge, you fall over. It’s a charge. If you aren’t set or fall over too soon, it’s a block. It’s up to the refs to determine that. If the guy flops, simply don’t call a charge. I don’t see how you can fine someone for this. If he’s faking, just don’t call the foul. It’s that simple. Flopping is no different than an offensive player going up for a shot, having the ball striped then throwing his arms up in the air and screaming. Is he going to get fined for that? How about if on the way to the hoop, the player gets bumped and he falls down to sell the foul? Is that now finable too? How about when someone shoots a three, and falls down after someone jumps at him even though that contact, if there even is any, would never knock him down? Shooters do that all the time to draw the foul. Is that a fine worthy? Look, I understand that some people don’t like the flop. It’s annoying, it’s silly looking and it reminds people of soccer but it’s part of the game and it’s good defense (if they are in position). If you think a guy flops, just don’t call the charge. Call a block or let it go. A fine is ridiculous.

 

Here’s something that will get Graig going. I read a great article yesterday. It was about a major league player who has played more games at his position than anyone else, has more hits than all but one player at his position, as more Gold Gloves than all but one player at his position and has the best fielding percentage of anyone ever at his position. That player is, of course, Omar Vizquel. Last week he played his 2,584th career game at shortstop to set a new MLB record for most games played at short, breaking the previous record held by Luis Aparico. In the article by Jim Caple, he makes Omar’s Hall of Fame case. I’m here to back it up, as I have in the past. I know the arguments against; never a great hitter, never one of the best at the position. I’ll disagree with both of those. In the 90s and early 2000s, he was an average hitter but he always seemed to come through in the clutch. He had timely hits to start rallies, keep them alive or cap them off. I remember watching Indians games in those days when they needed a big hit and Omar would come up and I knew he’d come through. More times than not, he did. I was at one game, not sure the year, but the Indians were down two in the bottom of the ninth. The bases were loaded and Omar was up. What did he do? He bombed a Grand Slam to win the game that landed just 10 rows in front of where I was sitting. He was never a great hitter (best was .333 in 1999, which by the way is really good) but he was a clutch hitter.

As far as being the best at his position, yes and no. He couldn’t keep up with A-Rod and Jeter and Nomar at the plate, but those three couldn’t keep up with Omar in the field. Omar is the only one, besides Jeter still playing short. And I’d take Omar’s glove over Jeter’s any day. He is at worst the second best defensive short stop in the history of the game. His defense made up for his offensive. And it’s not like he was a liability at the plate. You can say negative things about his stats, you can say he was never the best at his position but if you watched him play, you’d know he’s a Hall of Famer. The plays he has made over the years are remarkable. San Francisco comes to Cleveland on June 24-26. I am making sure I get to one of those games. I want to see Omar play live one last time before he goes into the Hall of Fame.

 

 

Fratello

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The One-year Shoulda beens

Vince Young almost quit the NFL after his rookie season because “it wasn’t fun anymore.” That’s hard to believe considering VY’s best year was his rookie season. I guess the 17 INTs to 9 TD ration inspired him to comeback after last year.

While it would have been sad to see Young leave the game quicker than Carmelo Anthony backpedaling after throwing a weak sucker punch/slap, here a few can only regret didn’t quit after one year.

 

Tyler Hansbourgh. If he would have left UNC for the NBA after his “stellar” freshman season, he would have faded into oblivion by now and be nothing but another one-hit wonder. Instead, we are set up for a Brett Favre-like farewell senior season where Psycho-T could kill kittens and puppies before every game and still the media would love him.

 

Brett Favre. What if he retires after his one season in Atlanta? We would have never know how “fun” football can be and how a grow man can act like a kid playing a game. Instead, we would have been left with another NFL quarterback who couldn’t make it and spent the rest of his life popping pills and drinking moonshine. 

 

The WNBA. My how great of a world it would be ESPN didn’t subject it’s viewers to slow motion basketball every Tuesday and Thursday night (I don’t know when it’s now but it’s on too much.) Do I really have to explain why it would be so great if the WNBA wouldn’t be around? Lisa Leslie would be just an abnormally large black women in the circus side show and Sheryl Swoopes would be just another ugly lesbian. But we know that since we wouldn’t even know about them. Isiah Thomas, please do something good with your life and run this league like you did the CBA and put us all out of our misery of having to see basketball played under water.

 

Mike Jarvis. If Mike Jarvis would have quit coaching after one year, he never would have become St. John’s coach, never would have been fired, never become part of the 42nd broadcast team on ESPNU, never would have annoyed everyone with his “Nick Dials is dialing it up from long range” lines during the MAC tournament and I never would have been more excited that he  took a new coaching job at Florida Atlantic and hopefully will never have to hear him on TV again.

 

(Side note: As I write this and try to think of creative and funny people and descriptions, I’m struggling because I can’t concentrate. Not because I’m worthless, but because my boss is on the phone right behind me talking to someone about strip clubs and when the open, what kind of dances, what’s the cost and the girls. It’s creepily disturbing. For the record, my boss is a creepy, older guy who is balding, smells, has an uneven beard and hasn’t bought a new shirt or pants since 1974. He is even worse than most creepy guys who go to strip clubs because he doesn’t even have money to spend on the strippers. You have to know him but he is a very strange man.)

 

The Florida Marlins. If they would have moved or folded after the 1993 season, like the Seattle Pilots in 1969, the Indians would have won a World Series. Instead, the Marlins have some how won two. God I hate them.

 

John Elway. If he retired after the 1984 season, the Cleveland Browns may have won two Super Bowls, or least get to there twice. Elway could have faded away and made money touring the country as a Smarty Jones impersonator.

 

Ben Affleck. If he would have retired after his child acting days, well I’ll give him Dazed and Confused, we would have been stuck with Chasing Amy, Forces of Nature, Pearl Harbor, Changing Lanes, Daredevil, Gigil, Surviving Christmas, Reindeer Games and many other horrible, horrible movies. He always wouldn’t be known as the worst person to ever win an Academy Award. And who knows how many more great Matt Damon movies we could have seen if he wasn’t carrying Affleck for the first 30 years of their lives.

 

The XFL. In the opposite of the other items discussed, if only the XLF wouldn’t have folded after one year. This league was horribly great. Sprint to the football instead of a coin toss, slutty cheerleaders, nicknames on the jerseys, awesome team names, ugly uniforms, and stars such as Tommy Maddox, Rod Smart and Yo Murphy. Give the league a chance. My God, the WNBA is still around and there’s no way you can say the quality of play in the WNBA is better than it was in the XFL.

 

The Money Shot. Yes, Graig, your blog. If only you would have stopped it after one year of posts, we would all be better off not hearing about your Sex and the City fetish (aren’t you excited about the movie this weekend!!!!), your front running fan basis (since we all know you just started like the Redskins and Yankees around the time they won championships), and your bizarre undying love for Austin Carr and DiGiorno’s Pizza.

 

 

Fratello

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A Great View Post

Sorry for the late post. I had to go to a meeting for work and just got back at 11:45. Don’t worry though, not even work could stop me from making a post after a long weekend. I know looking forward to the newest J Beanie post today is what got most of you through the weekend. I can only hope you haven’t given up on me and taken your own lives by now. There isn’t much to talk about today so we’ll just going through a few thoughts.

Thanks to all those who congratulated me on the feat-that-none-of-you-will-ever-do. But the Golf Gods got me back. I played yesterday with my uncle, cousin and cousin-in-law (is that what you call the guy your cousin marries?) and I maybe had four good shots all day. I should have retired from golf after my last swing last week. 

I didn’t watch any sports on TV this weekend. I was outside all weekend at different venues and didn’t even turn a TV on until falling asleep last night. The only sporting event I saw was Sunday’s Indians-Rangers game, since I was there. Besides the outcome of the game, it was a great day with plenty of sights to behold. 

Rosie, Wes and I arrived at Progressive Field at noon hoping to get a table at the Batters Eye (the centerfield bar). We didn’t but we did get seats at the bar. We stayed there for the top of the first. The next few innings we stood on the home run porch in left field above the 18-foot (may not be the right height) wall. The double was hit off the wall directly below us. (I didn’t say who’s double because only one Indian is hitting extra base hits; Ben Francisco. Isn’t it a little crazy that he is leading the team in doubles and he’s been with the team less than a month? And Wedge and Shaprio didn’t think this guy was good enough to make the team out of spring training? What’s that say about them?) Anyway, Francisco’s ball was literally six feet below us. It was really cool and if it would have been a home run, I know I would have got it. Great View No. 1.

By the bottom of the third inning we were tired and needed to sit down. Only probably was our seats were in the upper box, row V. Way too far away to enjoy the game. We noticed an entire open row down the third base line and made our way there, just five rows from the field. Great View No. 2.

This was prime foul ball territory. I thought we had a good chance to get one but I was a little intimidated because the three 10 or 12 year old boys behind us had their gloves. We didn’t get any chance at a foul ball. The closest was a ball that bounced foul and kicked up into the second row. It bounced right at a man in a tight blue tank top. The ball hit him square in the hands but he couldn’t hold it and it bounced back on to the field. I started booing him as the ball boy picked it up and gave it to a kid in the first row. Tank Top Guy’s son was the most disappointed kids on Kids Day. I yelled to him he should be embarrassed for his son. That’s as close to a foul ball we came.

At some point during the game, maybe the sixth or seventh inning, Wes and Rosie were talking and whispering. I asked what they were talking about and they said you could see down this women’s tank top. Children, grow up. But then I caught a glimpse and understand why they were so giddy about it. A good looking girl, somewhere around 21, 22, 23 (since she had a beer and looked like a college aged girl) with a nice body and top that may have been a little to big for her. Wes was directly above her (two rows) and didn’t take his eyes off of her all game. He may not know who won the game. It sounds petty and immature, but when a guy sees a boob (and there was an occasionally nip slip) he can’t help but look. Call us creepy if you must, but next time you see a nipple, try to look a way. Great View Nos. 3-548. 

This has nothing to do with sports but it was pretty interesting and another “great view.” I, along with The GF, GFB, GFBW-1, GFB-2, GFB-2’ LF (lady friend) and another couple went to the Kenny Chesney concert on Saturday. As we were tailgating for the concert at Cleveland Browns Stadium, a big, beat up, rusty conversion van pulled up across from our site. Out jumped 4-5 guys dressed exactly the same in gray wife beaters and cut off jean shorts. With them, about 43 other people come out of the van. It was like an unfunny clown car. The first thing they did, grab their Confederate flag and stuck in the van for all to see, proclaiming the land in the name of rednecks everywhere. (I have some good pictures of this and will share at a later date.)

On a very random note, I hate more hot dogs this weekend then an average man eats in a year.

On a programing note, not sure what to expect from J Beanie the rest of the summer. With the Indians as bad as they are, there could be a lot more random post like today’s. Please feel free to comment any suggests for posts that you feel would make a good topic. All of us here at J Beanie Sports appreciate your help and understanding in this very difficult time.

 

 

 

Fratello

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A story for the ages

Oh, do I have a story for you today. Sit back, relax, get a cup of coffee (or beer, this story goes much better with a beer) and enjoy this story. It’s a tale you’ll be telling your friends, your family, your children, your children’s children and your girlfriend’s best friend’s cousin’s sister’s babysitter’s husband. It’s that good.

On Wednesdays, I play in this golf league but only when a buddy of mine can’t and I sub for him. I thought I was going to play this Wednesday but I wasn’t needed. I had already pumped myself up to play that night and when I wasn’t needed I felt like the little boy who lost a tooth, put the tooth under his pillow for the Tooth Fairy to bring him a quarter only to wake up and realize the Tooth Fairy never came. I was in the golfing mood and damn it, I was going to golf. 

I couldn’t get anyone to go Wednesday night but the guy, we’ll call me AK, I called said he could play Thursday so that’s what we did. We played last night. 

The round was going like you’d expect any round to go. I was enjoying it since I hadn’t AK in a few months and it was nice to catch up. We went to this course I never been to before. I was playing like I normally do, a bogey here, double there, par occasionally. AK was just a few shots better than me. Pretty normal. But something felt different. Something felt, not out of place, but not right. Not quite strange but not quite comforting either. It was like having a picnic on a beautiful, warm, sunny summer day and then seeing dark storm clouds roll in. Not a horrible feeling but something unsettling. 

I don’t know where this feeling was coming from or why. It was like the Golf Gods just wanted to mess with me. (Like they haven’t done enough by giving me a slice and a horrible mid range game.) AK thought I was crazy for having this feeling. I felt as out of place as a white guy in an NBA locker roomer.

My game was struggling because of this. I was four over after four, then on five, six, seven and eight, I was seven over on them alone. The storm clouds seemed to be roaring in on me. The wind was picking up, sprinkles had began and I was gather my picnic basket and running to the car before I got soaked, leaving the women and children to fend for themselves. My mind was not in the game anymore. How bad was it getting? Let’s just say on one hole, I was laying 3, and yet to clear the women’s tees. My pants should have been off and a putter up my putter for that. 

By the time we got to No. 9, I was gone. I just didn’t care anymore. I was questioning why I even play this stupid game. I wanted to get off the course and join my family who was planning a dinner at this great Mexican restaurant to celebrate my cousin’s new house and my cousin’s son’s “birthday.” (It wasn’t really his birthday, we just like to tell them it is so we get ice cream and he wears a big sombrero.) 

The Golf Gods may have been angry with me that I wasn’t appreciating their game anymore. I was taking it for granted. While angrily walking from the eighth green to the ninth tee, I slipped down a small hill. Of course I did. I could almost hear the Golf Gods laughter echoing from the trees, but it was just AK’s laugh. As I sat there on the grass pissed off at the world and everything golf related debating whether or not I should start throwing my clubs, hitting AK with them or driving the golf cart into a pond, I allowed myself to laugh. I mean, come on, if roles were reversed and my playing partner was struggling so that if hewas  Michelle Wie he would have quit long ago, and he just fell on the smallest hill, I would be laughing my ass off at him. I still be making fun of him. I would have be ripping him so much and so hard that I’d leave him no choice but to punch me. 

As I laughed, I began to feel better. The storm clouds were moving out and the sun was returning. I got out of my car and made it back to the picnic to enjoy dessert. I went up to the final tee box of the day just plain not caring anymore. If I shank it off a tree and the ball goes backwards a 100 feet, I couldn’t care less. It was the last hole and I needed to have fun. AK hit a good shot on the par-3, 188 yard hole, maybe 20-25 feet from the pin. He said if I got inside him (te he he, inside him), he would give me $5. A nice little motivation but I thought no way this happens. There’s a better chance of Paula Creamer and Natalie Gulbis giving me hands on golf/sex lessons than me putting the ball inside 20 feet. 

I pulled out my 3-iron and walked to the tee box. No practice swings (what good were they serving anyway), no preshot routine, just put the ball down and take a hack. On the swing, I thought I felt four hands of two beautiful golfers guiding me, encouraging me. Contact felt good but the ball looked to be right of the green. Slowly it was coming back. It was looking pretty good and I thought I had a chance for my $5. It was by far my best looking shot since the second hole (the only par). The ball landed on the very front of the green. With a middle pin location, this was good. The ball was rolling toward the hole and I just sat there mouth opened. I was surprised I got it on the green let a lone close to the pin. 

But the ball didn’t stop rolling. It keep rolling, and rolling, and rolling, until… it disappeared. My first thought was it rolled off the back of the green. Then I realized I could see the back of the green and that couldn’t have happened. 

“Holy shit!” yelled AK, and AK isn’t one to just yell out profanity. 

“OHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWWWWHHOOOOOOOHAAAAHAHAHAHA,” was about the sound I made as it turned from a low rambling to a loud yell to pure laughter. 

“NO WAY, NO F’ING WAY. A HOLE IN ONE.” 

I yelled some form of these words and I ran around the tee box like a completely crazy person. I jumped on AK and tackled him. We rolled around on the ground in the most ungay way you can possible do with another man. I  then ran all over the place, on the next fairway, down to the green and around the green. Being the final hole, people in the clubhouse came out to see what was going on. It didn’t take long for them to figure it out. I was running around, high fiving anyone and everyone. I think I may have broke an old man’s hand. The crowd clapped for me and it may have been the first time someone has giving me a genuine applaus other than doing it because I made an idiot out of myself. 

I almost forgot to pick the ball out of the hole. AK and to remind me. In that one motion, all the troubles I had on the course this day and everyday in the past were gone. This is way you play the game of golf. For something as stupid as putting the little ball in the little hole with just one swing. We had to drive back to the tee box to find my 3-iron since I had thrown it in the air and never picked it up. Once we found it, we went int to the clubhouse. I felt like a celebrity. Everyone wanted to talk to me. Everyone wanted to touch me. They reminded me of drunk college girls who couldn’t keep their hands off me. It was kine of creepy actually. But I loved every minute of it. I bought a beer for everyone (luckily there was only five other people in there and AK doesn’t drink). 

That Top Flite 4 may never leave my pocket. I always said if I ever get a hole-in-one, I’ll quit the game off golf and that will be my last swing ever. It’s very tempting to do that. But I can’t. Trying to get this feeling again will keep me motivated for years to come. This is why you play this stupid game. The only thing that could have made this any better, having Jim Nantz do a play-by-play of it so he could give it some catchy slogan. But someone tell Paula Creamer and Natalie Gulbis I’m ready for my lessons now.

 

 

Fratello

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What do the injuries mean?

With basketball season over, baseball season boring the hell out of me as the Indians struggle to hit balls off tee’s let alone live pitching, it’s time for the first football post of the season.

Last season, the Cleveland Browns finally rewarded their walk-through-fire-for-them faithful fans with a very good and entertaining season. It’s a shame the season fell short of the playoffs but it was something promising. It was something that didn’t make us question ourselves every Sunday. They were able to keep us just as enthusiastic on Dec. 30 as we were on Sept. 8. It was nice, it was refreshing and it gave us all kinds of expectations for this up coming year. 

The Browns have a schedule that will test them early and often. They have the talent and the roster to be a playoff team. But do they have the karma? The luck?

To be successful in the NFL, you need talent, experience and coaching, but more importantly, you need luck. The Browns had it last year. They got lots of breaks. By the end of the year, those breaks weren’t going their way. Now, with the start of the OTA’s, are the Browns are back to what they once were? A cursed, injury plagued team? 

Last week it was Ryan Tucker getting hurt. Yesterday it was Devon Holly. Two starters hurt without ever putting the pads on and hitting. Tucker may be back for the end of training camp and ready for the start of the season. Holly is a relatively average cornerback and at worst was third on the depth chart. He is out for the year, more than likely. 

It isn’t who got injured or what they injured. The point is two starter were injured. You have to be healthy, even more than lucky, to be successful in the NFL. Is this a sign of things to come? Are the Browns going to that injury filled team again? Will the injuries lead them down a path that us as fans have see every year from 1999 to 2006? Will the loses mount up and turn Browns fan celebratory drinking to drinking to forget how bad they were beat? 

Or does this all mean nothing? The injuries will not affect the team? These are the only injuries all year long? The Browns signed a starting offensive lineman (Rex Hadnot) to fill in if something like this happens and won’t miss a beat? With Holly out, the Browns are forced to find another CB and they go out and get Ty Law or Lito Sheppard and it makes the defense even better? 

I think the latter is more likely the case but this is the Browns. It’s enough to at least make you think.

 

 

Fratello

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A ‘Hanging Tough’ Grab Bag Day

 

Everyone, put on your rubber corpses handling gloves, we got two frozen bodies to find. Or at least a Grab Bag to reach into and you never know what kind of horribleness you’ll find inside.

 

… The NBA Finals start tonight when the defending champion San Antonio Spurs travel to Los Angeles to take on the Lakers. Wait. What’s this? That isn’t the NBA Finals? It’s the Western Conference semifinals? There’s another series going on? I didn’t know that.

…The Stanley Cup Finals start Saturday. I’m more excited about this than the NBA Finals. You got the New York Yankees of hockey, the Detroit Red Wings, and the Pittsburgh Penguins, the NHL’s Cleveland Cavaliers (only because they have a young superstar and I can’t think of a better comparison). I’ve always enjoyed the Stanley Cup Finals and this should be one of the better ones in a while. Throughout the NBA playoffs, when games would be boring (and there was a lot of them) I’d switch over to the NHL and find myself enjoying them more. I’m looking forward to this series. But it’s pretty bad when NBC doesn’t start showing your games until Game 3. The Stanley Cup Finals is one event I’d love to see live (Rosie, ticket for me?)

… Chucky Barkley says he will not gamble any more. Well, almost. “For right now, the next year or two. I’m not going to gamble.” Convincing Chuck. Barkley saying he won’t gambling is like Graig saying he won’t be attracted to guys, or me saying I won’t make any grammatical errors. It’s just not going to happen.

… New worst job in the world: ESPN’s guy who does the WNBA power rankings. (Yeah, they really have one.)

… Did you see the Chicago Bulls want to interview Eric Snow for their head coaching position? Ferry, I’m talking to you. You might want to tell them they can’t have permission. You need to make him your coach or at least part of your coaching staff.

… Matt Ryan signed a 6-year $72 million contract. Wow! Think the Falcons are trying to move on from the old dog fighter. I think Matt Ryan is going to suck. He wasn’t really that good at BC. He threw way to many balls up for grabs, he had a lot of interceptions and he couldn’t win big games. Now he is supposed to turn around a franchise like the Falcons. A team with absolutely no one around him. This has Tim Couch written all over it.

… I don’t know if I should be excited, scared, repulsed, confused or nervous. The New Kids on the Block are making a comeback. Yep, those New Kids. The same ones that captured your hearts as a youngster with songs like “Hanging Tough” and “Step by Step”. When I was a kid, there was no doubt what my favorite musical group was. I had their T-shirts, tapes and even put on shows with friends pretending we were them. We were nerds, yes, but it was awesome. Of course that was 15-18 years ago. Why in the world would you make a come back now? Jonathon Knight is 40. The others are in their late 30s. This was a boy band. Kind of weird they are still wanting to be a boy band. We can’t call them a boy band anymore and they sure aren’t a man band so what do we call them? Losers? Weirdoes? Who are they trying to appeal to? Fans of theirs from the early 90s? I don’t think that will happen. New teenagers to be heart throbs to? That’s just creepy. I’m so confused yet I’m a little excited about it. I can’t stop thinking about this and wanting to see what happens. It’s like what being a Cleveland Brown fan was before last year. You knew they were going to suck but you were still excited to see them.

 

 

Fratello

 

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