I think every baseball fan has a specific player that made them fall in love with the game. For me, it was Barry Larkin. Barry was one of the first shortstops that perfected his craft both at the plate and in the field. He was the type of player little league coaches could point to and say “that’s the player you need to be”. Being a hometown kid playing in Cincinnati didn’t hurt either.
He became the first ever 30-30 shortstop in Major League Baseball history which was a nice compliment to his three Gold Gloves. The man had nine Silver Slugger awards, 12 All-Star Game appearances and a National League Most Valuable Player on his mantle when he was elected to the Baseball Hall of Fame in 2012.
When people ask why I still let the Reds ruin my summer, I point to the #11 retired behind home plate at Great American Ball Park. If it wasn’t for Barry, I wouldn’t have a life long Reds fandom that will (hopefully) someday payoff. I’m hoping someday I’ll have a World Series ticket stub so sit right between my Barry Larkin bobblehead and foul ball on my desk. Until then, I’ll always have his highlights on YouTube.
For those of you unaware, tonight was WWE’s annual Tables, Ladders and Chairs pay-per-view. Speaking of which, I’m not really sure why they still call them pay-per-views in the WWE. You have to subscribe to the WWE Network (award winning, if you hadn’t heard) in order to watch any of the pay-per-views so you’re not really paying per view, if that makes sense. Either way, that’s what was on tonight, running in concurrence with the Rams shitting the bed and not knowing how to get out of bounds when you don’t have any timeouts left. If you didn’t feel like watching 300lb men collide over and over again while you lost your bets, you could flip over to the WWE Network to see a bunch of overgrown human beings slam each other through tables, fall from 20ft ladders and get their ribs rearranged by metal chairs. Continue reading →
I’m not gonna sit here and act like I’m a Fortnite expert. I think I’ve killed fewer than 3 people in the 50ish Battle Royales I’ve been blessed to be a part of. That doesn’t mean I don’t have a lot of fun playing for about an hour a week with my guy-pals (I like to say gal-pals when talking about my #DaughterSquad, but I don’t think it translates when talking about my Milliron Sports co-workers and friends). Last night I hopped on to play a few round with former co-hosts of the Nati Boys, Whitty, Jefe and DB. Boy, were we having a load of fun. First, I flew a plane off the cliff killing both Whitty and myself within seconds of starting the Battle Royal. That got a lot of laughs but really sent DB and Jefe up Shit Creek for the rest of the match. I didn’t feel too bad though, because I’m in the squad for laughs, not helping everyone win.
About halfway though one of our first Battle Royales, some random dude came flying up on me with a badass sword that resulted in your immediate death. It’s not as realistic as having to shoot someone 500 times for them to die like the rest of the game, but it is still pretty sweet nonetheless. I had never seen it, but I was quickly informed by my gamer pals (that sounds better) that it was part of the most recent season, which is extra confusing because I’ve never known video games to have seasons like TV shows, but what do I know? What I do know is I really want to have a crack at the Infinity Blade, and if I have to resort to using my umbrella on a subway instead, then so be it. Continue reading →
I hate to ruin the holiday season before we’re a full 10 days into December, but I had to do it.
I don’t even know where to start with this one. Here I was, just enjoying a nice, relaxing Sunday evening. I watched Bad Moms for the first time so I wouldn’t feel lost when I tried to watch A Bad Moms Christmas before Jesus’ big day. I packed my lunch for the next three days and did the exact amount of laundry to get me through one workday. I didn’t think there was anything that could ruin my wonderful Sunday routine until I hopped on the Ol’ Twitter Machine to see what type of offerings they had for me before I fired up a Netflix marathon that would undoubtedly lead to me running around my house like a god damn McCallister after the power reset their alarm clocks tomorrow morning.
I don’t really have a lot to add to this other than the fact that I wanted all 17 of our readers to get their eyes on it. Markelle Fultz has a case of the yips that would make Rick Ankiel blush. I don’t even know how someone physically pulls this off without losing the ball or accidentally stepping over the free throw line. This is the type of juke-pump fake you give your friends in a game of 21 in the driveway to thwart their attempt to tip you in. Only this time it didn’t work and he missed. It’s just too bad nobody tipped him in and sent the Sixers back to zero (or 13, depending on your neighborhood’s rules).
Paging Commissioner Silver: Play the first half of the season with 21 rules. It’s not like anyone is trying anyway.
The Score – Could Gritty have a future in politics? Some people in New Jersey apparently think so.
The Philadelphia Flyers’ mascot earned 14 write-in votes from residents in Camden, N.J. in the midterm elections, according to Michael Blinn of the New York Post. There was a pair of votes for Gritty to be county sheriff and another two for the U.S. House in N.J. District 1.
Before we start, let’s address the elephant in the room. I know what everyone is thinking.
But Mac, haven’t we already seen what an orange politician would look like in office?
Well, loyal readers, I don’t think I have to tell you that Sesame Street’s Ernie lost his campaign for Senate in 2010. We all remember how that went down. Oh, what could’ve been. Stupid leaked tapes.
Gritty is a known barbarian. Actually, I don’t know that for a fact but look at him. He looks like Scott Hartnell lost his gym membership and fired his barber. And I say that as someone who loves Scott Hartnell. But when it comes to trusting a mascot with our healthcare and public spending, I want more than a non-verbal, unkempt Scott Hartnell running the show. Continue reading →