Sports with Friends: The Yanks Take on Citi

Written by: J

Hurricanes Harvey and Irma sucked. There’s no question about it. Harvey went to Houston and fucked shit up, then Irma saw his snapchat story, said, “hold my beer,” and made her way to Florida to one up him. My heart goes out to all those who were affected by it. Unless you live under a rock, you already know that these storms caused some serious damage as they ripped through some areas – which is far more important than what I am about to talk about – but they also had a relatively unique impact on the sports world, causing games throughout Texas and Florida to be postponed, cancelled and relocated. In Miami alone, Dolphin fans were forced to wait for their inevitably disappointing Jay Cutler-driven season to start. University of Miami fans were robbed of a marquee matchup against the Arkansas State Red Wolves. Now, I get that football season is back, but as a washed up baseball player who was cut from my high school team (not to brag/fuck you Coach Sheedy), I think its important to remind everyone that playoff baseball is right around the corner, and a few baseball series with playoff implications were relocated as a result of the storms, which was far more important to me. Most notably, a three game set between the Yankees and the Rays was moved out of Florida and up to New York.

Normally, Yankees vs. Rays games in Tampa Bay are filled with New Yorkers who retired to a senior development in Florida, where the key to getting laid is to simply have the physical ability to get it up or enough mental awareness to drive places. So, moving the series to New York really didn’t seem like that big of a deal, but to preserve some type of home field advantage for the Rays, this was moved to Citi Field instead of Yankee Stadium – an interesting development. As a Yankee fan, I am not afraid to admit that Citi Field is far superior to Yankee Stadium, a place that kicked me out for wearing a judge costume the first week of this season and where the consistent answer you get when you ask for honey mustard sauce in the left field bleachers is “we used to have it, but we don’t anymore.” For starters – what does that even mean? Where the fuck did it go? Did someone break into Yankee stadium and steal all the honey mustard from that section? If they did, they should make an Ocean’s Eleven style movie about it staring the Fast and Furious cast – because that’s a movie I’d watch. Anyway, this series was a big one for the Yankees, who are in the midst of a playoff run and are notorious for casually getting swept by the bottom-of-the-standings Rays when it really matters. That, and the fact that they were offering best available seats for a $25 flat rate, prompted me and some buddies to go to game two of the series. Here are some takeaways:

“Holy shit these lines are unreal” – This was a reoccurring theme of my night at Citi. Who would have thought that everyone and their uncle would show up to a Yankee game at Citi Field for $25 tickets, right? It was an impromptu game and Citi Field was clearly understaffed, which is completely understandable based on the circumstances. I heard from a completely unreliable source that the average wait time at a concession stand was roughly 45 minutes and I’m not ashamed to admit that I missed an inning of the game so that I could shove two Kosher hotdogs down my throat and wash them down with a $6 water. At one point, I overheard a guy talking about the wait for Shake Shack in such a concerned tone that you would have thought the Wilpons kidnapped his family and were holding them for ransom to dig themselves out of the hole that Bernie Madoff’s ponzi scheme left them in. Great kosher dogs though.

“Get Sonny some runs!” – Now for some actual baseball talk. Sonny Gray was the Yankees big trade deadline acquisition. If you ever watch an interview with him, he isn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, but damn can he pitch. I personally had some doubts about Sonny when we made the trade, but since then, his stats have been as advertised. In 8 starts for the Yanks, Sonny has put together a 3-5 record with a 2.66 ERA and .206 BAA. People immediately look at his 3-5 record and say he hasn’t lived up to the hype and those people are idiots. The man has gotten zero run support from the Yankees offense when he pitches. In five of his eight starts, the Yankees have scored one or less runs to back Sonny up – all 5 resulting in losses, Tuesday’s game at Citi included. You can’t win if you don’t score runs – bottom line.

“Sittin’ Pretty” – Overall, we took the series at Citi 2-1 – I have to admit, it was nice to win a series on the Mets turf this way after the whole “Take Back NY” stunt they tried to pull, as they blue balled their entire fan base with an honestly impressive collapse following their World Series appearance two years ago. We head into a four game weekend set against the Orioles, three games back in the division, but three games up in the wildcard. Even though we have been playing well lately this team just does some stupid shit. With the third best run differential in baseball of +155 our record should be better than it is. We are either winning by 9 or losing by 1 and have lost too many close games from either a bullpen collapse (which I think we figured out) or a no show offense. Despite some shortcomings, the Yanks have won their last four series and I think we are in good shape. We have the talent and depth to compete with any team; it’s just a question of whether we can put it all together when it matters. We’ll see what happens comes playoffs, but I think its safe to say that we have officially taken back New York Citi (see what I did there?).

Written by: J

Twisted News Thursday

I write a lot about nothing. Mostly everything I write is nothing. Today, I decided to write about something more substantial. I’m adding a little bit of a news column to this blog. I’m going to take the most fucked up, ridiculous, and twisted piece of news and write how I feel about it. This week, I picked something up off of the Las Vegas Review Journal.

Today, I want to talk about Scott Dozier. He is what they describe as an “American Criminal.” Pretty weak standard for “American Criminal” if you ask me. When I think “American Criminal,” I think about Benny Eggs or Lucky Luciano. I even think of Bugsy Siegel. These people are criminals. If you don’t know who they are, look them up somewhere. You’ll understand what I mean. They are the OG, if you will.

I hear the word criminal, I think of someone smart. I don’t think of a meth dealer, who kills off his low-level dealers for a measly $12,000.  I mean don’t get me wrong, I could use $12,000. It wouldn’t be measly to me. But that’s exactly what this man did.

Scott Dozier killed, 22-year-old, Jeremiah Miller. Jeremiah Miller was one of his “drug associates.” Drug associates is the word they used in the article, not sure why. So, despite it being wrong that he was killed, I don’t feel badly. I would be lying if I said I feel that way. It’s not my place to say someone deserves to be killed and I don’t know this guy’s back story. If you’re meeting a meth dealer, in the parking lot of a place called La Concha, you must’ve considered there was at least a chance you only had a few hours left to live.

So, Scott ends up killing Jeremiah Miller. They think he shot him, but they really don’t know. Not because they didn’t find the body, no, they found the body. They found the body alright. It was sawed into pieces and stuffed in a suitcase, outside an apartment complex in West Vegas.

First off, a real “criminal” would have done a better job of hiding a body, I assume. This guy was just a wackjob who was so narcissistic, that he didn’t even care if anyone found the body. He didn’t care if a kid found it, a woman found it, a man found it, or even if the police found it. Second, what was the point of cutting this guys into a couple pieces if not to hide the evidence? There wasn’t a point. He’s obviously a real sociopath. Not the kind of sociopath described in the beloved show Seinfeld. A real, sawing bodies type of sociopath.

Now, the part that is really interesting is that Scotty is scheduled to die on November 14th of this year. Despite not believing in the death penalty, there is one thing that bothered me about him. And it bothered me more than him chopping up his 22-year-old companion. When his date of death was assigned, he had the audacity to ask the judge, “what do I need to be mentally prepared for?” Listen SCOTT, when you chopped up Miller, did you stop and say, “hold on kid, you should be prepared for me to shoot you and then chop you up into undefinable pieces?” No, because, we aren’t supposed to see death coming. We aren’t supposed to have to “mentally prepare” for our own death. That is torture in itself. You didn’t give that meth-loving jerk off an explanation. Why should you get a description of what it’s going to be like if you didn’t give this poor fuck an explanation. What should you expect when you get your lethal cocktail? I don’t really\ know but my mother always said, “It’s all fun in games, until someone saws a motherfucker in half.”

Sports with Friends: Welcome to Fall

Written by: Iceberg

Welcome to fall. The NFL is back and the great fucking pumpkin season of pumpkin beer, pumpkin picking and pumpkin spice lattes is upon us. But I am hear to talk about September’s forgotten soldier, formally known as the boys of summer. Yep, if you haven’t already guessed from my half made up sayings, that’s right, I’m talking about baseball. Every year I hear “baseball’s boring” or “baseball’s too slow” well thats why your cousin Vinny brought me here. To convince you that is EXACTLY why you should like baseball. I am about to give you 3 reasons that will make you a baseball fan for life.

Naps: You ever wake up hungover on a Saturday morning and cannot fall back asleep? Well boy, do I have a solution for you. Its called turning on a 1 o’clock baseball game and watching the first 2 innings as the announcers gently tuck you tight under the covers. You wake up during the seventh inning stretch feeling like a new man (or woman, I’ll have to ask your cousin Vinny about his target audience here). Not only do you wake up in the 7th, but sometimes you wake up to a one run game, with guys like Dellin Betances throwing 100 mph cheese, that will make your dutch oven beer farts smell like roses. Nothing better than close baseball games in the 7th inning on and thats a fact.

162 Games: Has a friend ever asked you to go get some tacos and tequila on a Tuesday night? Maybe go out on a Wednesday to get 2fers? You want to know how I respond? “Fuck that I have have to go to work tomorrow. I can’t be doing that. I’m not in college anymore. However, I will go to that crummy local dive bar that so happens to have $2 miller lites on a Wednesday to watch the Yankee game.” You see what I did there? You see what I tell people at work or a girlfriend so that she won’t get mad at me. My point is baseball is always on and it always gives us an excuse to hangout with friends or pound back a couple of casuals. People say that baseball players should not be payed millions compared to the hard-working teachers. Well, I’m pretty sure the school year is only 161 days and baseball is 162 so you tell me whose working harder.

Chicks: Has anyone been to a baseball game recently? Because I have. One thing I noticed was all the beautiful girls there. (I was of course there with my mom) Now, I am not saying you go to baseball games to pick up chicks. However, if you find a girl thats cool enough to go to baseball games with you (most likely because her father would take her as a young kid, because in his heart he wishes he had a son) than you keep that girl around. There are a few things that are certain in this life and they are death, taxes and chicks digging the long ball. And hey, if you don’t believe me, just take a look at Aaron Judge’s Shrek like face and then look at his Instagram model girlfriend.

Written by: Iceberg

Where Everybody Knows Your Name

What is the number one thing you look for in a good bar? Not a nice place or anything, but just your regular bar where you can drink heavily and not get judged, or go for that nightcap before you head home. What does that place need? For me, the TV sitcom, Cheers, really nailed it. Where everybody knows your name. I just like going to a place where there are a few regulars that I know and they know me. The bartenders know me. Once in while you get a free shot or a heavy pour on the wine. Mostly, it is just about going and feeling like the people appreciate when you come by. I don’t want to feel like I felt in Cortland, like pigs at a trough.

I’ve been searching for that bar in Vegas since I’ve been here. I actually found it too. It was a little Italian restaurant. The bartenders were Ray, Angel, and Samantha. There were always regulars there, like Terrick and Ben. I loved going there. But then I moved across town. Now, I’m working on finding another one.

Marisa and I have been going to this bar called Remedy’s. In Vegas, almost all of the bars are franchises or chains. It sucks. Like I’ve mentioned before, this creates a lack of authenticity. But you get what you get and you don’t get upset. One of my supervisors from grad school told me that one. We deal and we go try to find good bartenders as opposed to cool places.

The first time we went, we go in and the bartender comes up to us and introduces himself, “Hey guys, I’m Steve-o, have you guys ever been here before?” He was super  excited and now, so was I. “He’s going to know our names!” I thought. We bullshit for a minute or two and then he says, “alright guys, round of shots on me!” Awesome. Tequila baby. Time to put our party pants on.

We leave Steve-o for the night and we head on home. Our bellies filled with shitty food and good tequila.

Later that week, we meet a girl at the dog park. We start talking to this girl about the bars we frequent and what not. We tell her we like Remedy’s. She says, “yeah we go there all of the time, but the bartender always forgets our names.” I wanted to tell the girl, “who the fuck are you though? Does Steve-o really need to remember your name specifically, or should he just know you’re a regular?” Honestly, she didn’t strike me as a regular at any bar. I would say twice a week is a regular, not once in a while. But I didn’t want to be mean to the girl, because “we’re trying to make friends” or whatever.

Fast forward to Saturday night, we finish up at a wine bar and head back to Remedy’s. We walk in and who do we see? Steve-o, tending the bar. We sit down and he comes over and we both say hi to him. What does he do? He introduces himself to us, “Hey guys I’m Steve-o, have you ever been here before?” Are you sure you aren’t fucking ten-second Tom? This was the 4th time I’ve met him and the 3rd time Marisa had met him. We don’t even answer his question before he says, “you know what, 1st rounds on me guys!”

I really wanted a place where everyone knows my name, but should I settle for this instead? A place where no one can remember my name, but we get free drinks because he constantly thinks its our first time at the bar. The fucked up part is every time he introduces himself, he repeats your names over and over again like he’s trying to imprint in his brain. How many Italians, let alone Vinnys are walking into this bar. Bald Vinnys,  to be exact.

What do you have to do in this town to make a friend. No one can even remember your fucking name, forget about being your friend. It’s impossible to even create a semblance of relationships with people, because they are so self-serving. I’m not saying I’m a selfless guy or anything, but from these blogs, you can obviously see that I love talking to people. Even if it may not be to make friends. Hearing people’s stories amaze me. For the most part, it seems like people have their heads so far up their ass, they taste their food twice. If people for one second would listen to what people said, instead of concentrating on what they were going to say about themselves, maybe they’d be a little happier. Steve-o is trying so hard to remember people, you can tell by the whole repeating names things. It’s just so sad how badly he fails. So people, moral of the story, head out of your ass and remember peoples names. Or just say fuck it and enjoy the warmth of your own ass because honestly, you’re the real heroes. You make this literary nightmare a possibility.

Sports with Friends: Week 1

Here is week 1 of our new segment, Sports with Friends. Our first guest’s rant written by Dylan Rabidoux:

Football changes people. Mostly for the better, unless you’re one of those anti-football people. In which case, I don’t understand you. It saves millions of people from depression as summer comes to an end. It gives the average person something to look forward to every week. I don’t care if you’re not a die-hard fan of any team, or a fantasy guru, because if nothing else, it’s a damn good reason to get together with friends.  Appetizers are prevalent, good beer is widespread, and for Christ sake, even the commercials get better.

But, with all great things, some bad comes along with them. I believe it is my duty to complain about them given the nature of this blog and its creator. So here it goes.

Complaint 1: Nothing pisses me off more than people who know nothing about football, that insist on talking about it like they’re experts. Usually it backfires, and they make a fool of themselves to anyone who knows anything. But, on the off chance that everyone in the room doesn’t pick up on it immediately, I make sure I ask refined questions to bring out their football idiocy. Like, no one gives a shit if you don’t know who Odell Beckham Jr. is.  You’re perfectly accepted in the football atmosphere if you’re just here for the guacamole. But please, don’t google how many sacks Jason Pierre-Paul had through the first 8 weeks of the 2016 season and find a way to force it into conversation. There’s a 110% chance I’m gonna hate you.
Complaint 2: The commercials. Not the quality, as mentioned earlier, I happen to think the quality doubles from summer to week 1 of the season. It’s the quantity. There is exactly one hour of play in a football game, barring overtime. How the FUCK does the typical game last like 3.5 hours. I’ll tell you how with this very common scenario. Offense is driving. 2:30 left in the half/game. The offense runs 2 plays and then comes the two minute warning commercial break. Then play resumes, the offense scores, and then comes another commercial break. This next one kills me, and mostly everyone I know. They kickoff, then go immediately to another commercial. At this point, I’m ready to rock a small child. Finally, we sit down, ready for another drive and this little red flag comes out on the field. Along with that, another commercial break.  The fact that it’s not uncommon for 2:30 of play to take 30 min real time is utterly ridiculous and disrespectful to the fans. Let’s move it along NFL, you’re great but you have potential to put people to sleep with all the delays and bullshit.
Rant over, I still love football season.
Guest Writer: Dylan Rabidoux


Sports with Friends

I don’t know a ton about sports. I know Lebron is the best basketball player. I know the Tom Brady is the GOAT. And I know everybody hates the Yankees, but I love them. I also know that everyone loves sports. From the most annoying fans to the people who just come for the dip, sports bring all of us together.

Despite it sounding like we’re all happier being together, there is one person that I despise when I’m watching sports. That’s the one person who just screams and yells and argues even though they know nothing. Its the guy or girl who wants to argue with you because they heard 15 seconds of sportscenter and want to tell you all about it. I don’t want to be this person, but I do want to add a little variety to this blog.

That’s when I realized I clearly don’t know enough about sports to do that alone. Every weekend, I have to ask someone to go over my fantasy lineup. I rather listen to Howard Stern than Boomer and Carton. Or as I was informed today, just Boomer, secondary to some gambling issues on Carton’s part. I haven’t had cable in 4 years, so I haven’t seen a baseball game in quite a while. I think the only reason I watch football is because it’s once a week. I get a serious case of FOMO when I don’t watch because 90% of America spends a portion of their Sunday watching football. But that’s all going to change now fuckers. We’re going to talk about some sports.

It would take me a serious amount of research to write about sports by myself. Frankly, I do enough research at work. I love tailgating, dip, wings, and beer. I also fucking love writing. But I don’t want to write about sports alone. I need some help That’s why I’m starting ‘Sports with Friends.’ I’ve asked a combination of family and friends who I think could write about sports. If it doesn’t work out, I probably won’t give a shit. I’ll just hypocritically write about what a bad idea it was.

Due to this change in the blog, I’m going to be a little more organized. Check in on Monday mornings at 7 and Wednesday evenings at 5 for some bullshit about sports. Tuesday, Saturday and Sunday morning at 7, and every other Friday morning, you’ll be hearing from me. So tune in and check it the fuck out folks.

The Idiot at the Pet store

I went to the pet store yesterday to buy some toys for my dog, who doesn’t play with any toys. I know that makes no sense. I feel like if I buy her enough toys, eventually, she’ll play with one or like me or whatever. That’s a moot point. Some of the weirdest fuckers I have ever met work in pet stores. Everyone is an expert it seems like. They’re so smart they actually talk to the animals, like they are going to get an answer. I do that to my dog in the privacy of my own home, like a normal wack job. But I was a wack job long before I got a dog. I was talking to myself half the time, now at least I talk at something.

I go to this one specific pet store, mostly because it’s the closest to my house but also because it seems pretty cheap I guess. When I walk in, the two women who work there always come over to me, probably cause I’m so fucking cute. Although, they only call Effie cute, not me. These two idiots never actually talk to me though. They talk to my dog and ask her questions that I obviously need to answer. She said today, “what are you looking for today?” I answer her and tell her what I need. She then asks the dog, “well what kind do you like?” Again I have to answer, “she likes the peanut butter bones.” Then she asks the dog, “when did your daddy adopt you?” Now, I’m starting to feel annoyed that this idiot can’t even look at me and have a conversation, but yet I answer again, “1 month ago.”
These two shmucks start simultaneously asking the dog questions. I decide, you know what, I’m not going to answer anymore. Let’s see what they do then. The next question she asks the dog is, “what does your daddy help you do to not be so shy.” I didn’t answer. Then she says, “Do you face away from your daddy when you make poops?” What the fuck lady. My dog doesn’t want to discuss her bowel movements. Finally, she asks the dog if she wants to come in for a treat tasting.

I’ve had enough of this shit. I get that you want to talk to your dog. I do it and it’s fucking weird enough. Lady, get off the floor of this disgusting warehouse and wake the fuck up. My dog doesn’t like you. She doesn’t like anyone. I’m pretty sure she doesn’t even like me. You’re not the damn animal whisperer, so just tell me where the damn rawhides are so I can get out of this place.

I picked out a couple toys and when I go to pay she tells the dog, “if you don’t end up playing with these toys your daddy can return them.” Naturally, I respond, “That’s disgusting, so this toy could’ve been in your house?” I don’t think she loved that comment, because she stopped talking to the dog at this point and turned towards me. It seemed somewhat difficult for her to have a conversation with a person. She said, “well, we clean them.” With as much sarcasm as I could gather from deep down I responded with “righttt…”

She didn’t say another word except the total. I smiled at her and said, “thanks so much!” And now I have to find a new pet store. Sorry Effie but I can’t imagine going back in to the passive interrogation room.