Baseball is America's pastime, but had our forefathers enjoyed the modern conveniences of clocks, ball pumps, or haste, this pastime may well have been basketball or football. Instead, they had wood, leather, and a rudderless disposition. Baseball is Boring is a series of live blogs for folks who need irony and self-awareness to get through a game.
My girlfriend and I go to a lot of games in Cleveland, and for a change we decided to check out one of the Minor League teams. She took a look at the schedule and laughed at the team names. I told her that a weird-funny team name (Everett AquaSox) isn't as bad as a team name that used to make sense but doesn't now because the team moved. Like the Utah Jazz. "Where did the Jazz play before Utah?" "Uh, New Orleans? Where else would they have named a team 'The Jazz'?"
Kids, if the Rockies ever move ANYWHERE other than Colorado, be prepared to have this conversation. It just won't work anywhere else. They can't be the San Antonio Rockies. They can't be the Orlando Rockies. They can't be the Mexico City Rockies.
Although I guess the Indians could move anywhere they want, because there were pretty much Indians everywhere.
Baseball is America's pastime, but had our forefathers enjoyed the modern conveniences of clocks, ball pumps, or haste, this pastime may well have been basketball or football. Instead, they had wood, leather, and a rudderless disposition. Baseball is Boring is a series of live blogs for folks who need irony and self-awareness to get through a game.
From the Wikipedia article for "beard" - "A beard is the hair that grows on a human's chin, cheeks, neck, and the area above the upper lip (the opposite is a clean-shaven face). Typically, only post-pubescent males are able to grow beards. When differentiating between upper and lower facial hair, a beard specifically refers to the facial hair on the lower part of a man's chin."
The question here is, "how much lower part of a man's chin can one man have?" Peralta might as well cut his chest hair into a straight line and pretend it's his jawline. Sorry Jhonny, I want to look like Brad Pitt as much as the next guy, but when your head is shaped like a ripe melon a thin line of scruff isn't going to differentiate your neck fat from your head fat.
Y'know, Mrs. Claus is always pictured as a kindly old woman, but if there were really a Santa Claus who could do everything that Santa Claus does, wouldn't he be able to pull hotties like this on a regular basis? I mean, he's Santa Claus. He's got all the cool toys, and he's got a sled that can fly anywhere. What guy wouldn't try to be a pimp with all that?
You know who's a pimp in this game tonight? Steve Smith. He was in mid-air when Michael Lewis crashed into his hip at full speed -- and Lewis lost. Smith landed right where he jumped up as if he hadn't been touched, and Lewis came down with a broken nose. Seriously, how does that happen? That's last son of Krypton territory.
Smith has three catches for 51 yards and a TD. At the half, Carolina leads Philadelphia, 14-7. And so far, I've gotten three MySpace friend requests. Look, here's Jamie Mottram's MySpace page. He interviewed Mike Tyson, and he survived with all his fingers intact. That may be more amazing than the nose-breaking abilities of Steve Smith's hips.
Pictured here are actual Philadelphia Eagles cheerleaders. They may look slutty, but they still have a long way to go to top Renee and Angela...
Speaking of being slutty, I have decided to point all of you to my totally boring MySpace page. Feel free to throw a friend request or twelve my way. Yes, that quote is a lyric from a Keane song. I know there are plenty of you out there who think Keane is just an East Sussex Coldplay, but I don't care. Under the Iron Sea is a solid listen, and we're all allowed a musical guilty pleasure or two. So bugger off.
I'm going to sit here and look at this picture for a minute. Then I'm going to start the 2nd quarter liveblog after the jump...
So MJD calls me in a panic this afternoon and tells me that West Virginia football fans stormed his crib after Saturday's WVU-Rutgers game and tried to set his couch on fire while he was attempting to score with Jessica Rose. On that couch. It sounded pretty messy, but apparently, she kind of enjoyed it, so she stuck around a few days to "help with the clean-up."
So y'all get me tonight, and guess what, folks? I've been drinking! I wanna kiss all of you, and I couldn't care less that the Panthers' offense is strugga-liiing...
So kick back, pop open a cold one, hit that reload button on your browser often, and enjoy this game with me as best you can. Feel free to leave comments, too. It's just me at home with my dish and my laptop, and no one should have to suffer through three hours of Theismann and Kornheiser alone.
Still reading this? Really? You are a truly dedicated FanHouse fan, and I salute you. And so do these cheerleaders...
Y'know, Mrs. Claus is always pictured as a kindly old woman, but if there were really a Santa Claus who could do everything that Santa Claus does, wouldn't he be able to pull hotties like this on a regular basis? I mean, he's Santa Claus. He's got all the cool toys, and he's got a sled that can fly anywhere. What guy wouldn't try to be a pimp with all that?
Pictured here are actual Philadelphia Eagles cheerleaders. They may look slutty, but they still have a long way to go to top 
So MJD calls me in a panic this afternoon and tells me that West Virginia football fans stormed his crib after Saturday's WVU-Rutgers game and tried to set his couch on fire while he was attempting to score with Jessica Rose. On that couch. It sounded pretty messy, but apparently, she kind of enjoyed it, so she stuck around a few days to "help with the clean-up."
