I've avoided the steroid talk for so long. Sure, I've discussed Barry Bonds, but that's just because he's my man crush. The truth is I have avoided it because I wasn't really sure whose side I was on. Believe the players who deny it to the death? Or cheer for the government getting involved and punishing those who they can catch?
Well I chose neither. I say keep steroids and HGH in baseball.
Now I'm not stupid, I understand why they want steroids out of baseball. They are bad for your body, they are unnatural, they set bad examples for children, etc. But I think it's much more simplified for Major League Baseball. They don't want steroids in the game because they are performance enhancers. Records are being erased and then re-written every season. This is simply unacceptable for a league that prides itself on its history and records.
But why? What is so wrong about wanting to enhance your performance? Isn't that why people take Viagra? And since we are on the subject, what else can be considered performance enhancers? Coffee gives you a false sense of energy (just to send you to the bathroom in an hour - or maybe that's just my IBS acting up). Does that mean everyone who tries to enhance their performance at work with a cup of joe should be considered a cheat?
Strippers get breast implants so they can better serve the gentlemen of their community. Should the stripper union punish them? Hell no. They should be rewarded with a fresh one dollar bill folded in half.
What about the music business? Do you think Snoop Dogg would be where he is today without smoking six blunts a night? Snoop without dope would be like the Cavaliers without LeBron. Boring as soup. You could even go back in history. I'm pretty sure The Beatles were high as a kite 99% of the time, and they created some of the most influential music of any generation.
Seriously though, doesn't it seem ironic that players get punished for wanting to become better? If there was a supplement out there that would make me a better writer I would take it in a heart beat, even if it did cause my ball point pens to shrink.
I think it's time baseball just accepted the steroid era instead of embarrassing themselves by parading out in front of congress to see who can lie the least. They will never get full cooperation from the players union. It will never go away. Just move on.
Now I'm not condoning the use of dangerous drugs at all. I just think that if they can be taken safely, as people such as Victor Conte seem to think, then why the fuss? Wouldn't you rather it be done safely with a doctor instead of in the back of someones van?
Jose Canseco thinks that steroids can be monitored safely. I mean look at Jose, arguably the most famous steroid user ever. He still looks good. The only thing wrong with him is he twitches like he just stuck his finger in an electrical socket. But you know what, my Uncle Vinny twitches like that too and I still love him.
Maybe baseball should instead shift its focus to the performance dehancers, like alcohol. It destroyed Mickey Mantle, who could have been the BEST player ever if he didn't have the liver of my Uncle Vinny (maybe that's why he twitches so much?).
They also talk about how it sets a bad example for the young ball players. Which it does, you can't argue that. But so does beating your wife, or driving drunk or even chewing tobacco. (Have you ever seen Big Papi during a game? He looks like he's got John Kruk stuck in his cheek.)
So while millions of people are saying performance enhancing drugs killed baseball, I couldn't disagree more. They saved baseball. Without them we would be stuck watching Ben Grieve win MVP after MVP while batting .267 with 13 home runs. Barry Bonds could hit 13 home runs over one weekend.
Performance Enhancers And You
My Fantasy Political Team
I know what you're thinking, after 60 plus blogs, I can read your minds by now, and here is what you're thinking:
"Meredith what does politics have to do with sports?
And if you didn't know that you were thinking that, now you know, I'm one step ahead of you.
So what, does politics have to do with sports? Very little. But the idea of a politically related blog popped into my head during a speech and debate practice one day (I know I'm on the speech and debate team and it's totally rad! Sort of...) My coach and I were working on my speech which is, to no one's surprise, about sports and he said: "Try and work in some political jokes, it makes you sound smarter."
Apparently sports knowledge isn't enough.
So, I started thinking, maybe I don't sound smart enough in my own blog, although I am supposed to write about sports so maybe that's simply untrue. Anyway, I am going to attempt a politically related sports blog, God help me.
Where to start? I should probably draft my team first and now that I know everything about fantasy leagues (and still despise them) I should probably form my own political team. So, here is my fantasy draft (assuming that I got up late, missed the start time, and only received a handful of solid players).
Catcher: CNN Political Correspondent Candy Crowley as Jason Veritek. They are both wise and respected men in their fields with the legs necessary for catching (have you ever seen Tek's thighs? They are like tree trunks!) Oh, and Candy also looks more like a Jason than a Candy (note: If your name is Candy, Destiny, Ginger, etc, you should probably change it before you become a CNN political correspondent.)
Pitcher: John McCain as Curt Shilling. They are both old, conservative, and should maybe think about retiring.
1st Base: Bill Richardson as David Ortiz. He may not make the best first basemen but he is loveable and has skills in other areas of the game.
2nd Base: Mitt Romney as himself (He's really incomparable). With a team of mostly politicians compared to Red Sox players, I figured he'd fit in, since Massachusetts loves him so.
3rd Base: Hillary Clinton because similar to Red Sox 3rd basemen, Mike Lowell, she's a veteran who seemed washed up but she's a fighter and could still end up MVP in my league (that's most valuable politician for all of you out there).
Short Stop: Dennis Kucinich as Alex Rodriguez. They both used to be super stars, at least I think Dennis has and, if not, they both have hot wives.
Right Field: Mike Huckabee as himself. I figured since we can't get rid of him in the presidential race, why should I do so on my team? Hopefully in the outfield he'll bother less people.
Center Field: Barack Obama as Jacoby Elisbury. They are both young superstars, although it is yet to be seen if they need more practice before truly entering the majors. Either way, they are both extremely handsome (swoon).
Left Field: Ralph Nader as Barry Bonds. No matter how many times Ralph Nader runs, no one is going to vote for him, and no matter how many times Bonds claims he has never taken steroids, no one is going to believe him.
Manager: Wolf Blitzer as Joe Torre. Love him or hate him, he knows his stuff and will be around for a long time, even if it isn't with the Yankees (smooth move Steinbrenner).
Bench Coach: Mark Foley because I'm sure he loves male sporting events! (As long as he stays away from the batboys).
Waterboy: Ron Paul. Let's be honest, the man looks like walking death, he shouldn't be on the field, that's just dangerous. Also, he looks like he could pour a mean cup of Gatorade.
There you have it, my 2008 political dream team. The question now isn't, will they play well but rather, if they will play well together as a team. Because just like real sport's teams, if partisan lines can't be crossed, and double plays cannot be turned, and world issues cannot be solved, and pitchers cannot hit their zones, then the team is simply going to fall apart.
Why Bill Belichick Owes me $110
As I was sitting on the butterfly machine at my local YMCA this week, my friend Zach made a request.
"Don't write your blog on the Patriots again. They were on the cover of Sports Illustrated every week during football season. I'm sick of them." He then proceeded to give me other topics to write about. Topics that were interesting, and definitely more creative than writing about the stupid Patriots again.
Well Zach, too bad. The fact is that my boy Bill Belichick owes me money, and I'm pissed.
The scene of the crime was set three years ago in a dorm room at a branch campus of The University of Pittsburgh (yeah, I didn't get into the main campus at first, don't judge me). The Patriots had just embarrassed the Steelers in the AFC Championship game, 41-27. It was the second time in four years that the Patriots had dethroned the Steelers at home in the conference championship.
I'll admit, I'm a sore loser. As I lied on my dorm room floor for upwards of thirty minutes, I was a large tornado of anger, swirling about. (Thanks to Will Ferrell in Kicking and Screaming for that line.)
As I stood up, drunk with hatred towards the Patriots, I wasn't thinking clearly. So I did the only logical thing - punched a hole in my roommates bedroom door. But that didn't quite quench my thirst for destruction. So I took a few steps back, got a running start, and ran straight through the door, landing on the other side of the room.
We spent the next couple of weeks trying to figure out how we could hide it from room inspections. But eventually we just threw it out. Sure enough, at the end of the semester I got a bill in the mail for around $110.
I can hear you now, "But Joe, why should Bill have to pay your fine? You were the idiot that ran through the door." And you know what, up until last week I would have said that's a good point. But just a couple days ago news had surfaced that Belichick and the Pats had cheated during that game specifically. Therefore, I believe I should not be held responsible for my actions. (It took me eight paragraphs to get to the point. Terrible journalism.)
Had Belichick not cheated, the Patriots might not have won. Thus, I wouldn't have broken the door. Which means I would be $110 richer right now. So it's clear - Bill Belichick is responsible for anything I did in anger following that game.
If a minor gets into a drunken driving accident, is the bartender who served him not held responsible for his actions? Well this is the exact same thing. And the only way to be forgiven would be to send me $110. Check, money order, straight cash homey - it doesn't matter to me. All I ask is that I get the money I am rightfully owed.
So Bill, have your people call my people. Just make sure it's after nine because that's when my free minutes kick in.
Desperate Housewives Reruns or The All-Star Game?
Desperate Housewives Reruns or The All-Star Game? That was my choice last night. Deciding between those two things is like deciding between Doritos or Vegetable Chips. Or maybe Corona or celery flavored diet soda. I hope you all see the point I'm getting at, it's not a hard decision at all. The NBA All-Star Game is clearly my celery flavored diet soda to my Corona, but in the end I went with the mother of all sundae's, Rock of Love II with Brett Micheals.
Let me make something clear, I'm not just hating on the NBA, I am hating on All-Star Games in general. I don't need to see the best of the best duke it out in tacky All-Star jersey's for the title of who's the most All-Star-y-ist of them all. This isn't Snoop Dogg vs. Puff Daddy. There are no East Coast, West Coast battles in the NBA. If no one is getting shot, it isn't street.
But unlike most All-Star Games (cough MLB cough) where the same side wins every year (cough American League cough), this year had a little more pizzazz. The East Coast edged out the West Coast with a final score of 134 to 128. What I gathered from the 15 minutes I forced myself to watch and ESPN.com's nauseating coverage of the game; The East Coast simply played better ball. Ray Allen scored 28 points for the East with Lebron James adding 27 of his own. And, as ESPN so gracefully put it, Lebron had a "did he do that?" dunk. Well, I didn't see the dunk myself but I'm assuming that he did do that so why are we questioning him after the fact ESPN?
Moving on, let's talk about this ESPN coverage for a second. Either I am really killing my brain cells in college or it took me much to long to find the final score of the game. I made so many wrong clicks through blogs about the game to the Fantasy All Star Game (fantasy leagues are back to haunt me) to an uncomfortable Viagra ad, before finally getting to the box score and recap of the game. Although, maybe this was a blessing in disguise (not the Viagra ad), because I stumbled upon this gem of a blog. I usually look at ESPN as the Messiah of Sports, the CNN of sports coverage sans Heidi Collins and lame graphics and although this blog didn't ruin ESPN for me, it did make me wonder, where do they find their writers? Here is the intro to said blog by J.A. Adande:
"Let's hear it for big, fat contracts. Money-money-money-monnn-ey -- MON-ayy. Dollar-dollar bills, y'all. Those salary-cap-killing, luxury-tax-inducing contracts -- envied by fans, cursed by owners with buyer's remorse -- are saving the NBA."
What is this boys in the hood? I had no idea Donald Trump had his influence on ESPN. Now, I have made some lame references in my blog to Nancy Kerrigan and Full House but I would never stoop that low. And the phrase "Dollar-dollar bills, y'all." I don't think that's been used since Dionne Sanders tried to become a rapper. It's not alright. And then the blog turns into almost a slam poetry session with "those salary-cap-killing, luxury-tax-inducing..." Yeah stick it to the man J.A. Adande.
One last thought on the All-Star Game. If people are really watching it, and the same side doesn't win every year, maybe I will consider giving it a second try but under two conditions:
1. J.A. Adande will never write another gangsta intro for his blog about the All-Star Game ever again.
2. They change their All-Star outfits. For those of you who missed it, the colors on the front were different from the colors on the back of the jersey so it was difficult to tell who had control of the ball, but I'm sure the 5 people watching the game didn't mind. I was just looking out for the color blind among us. Shame on you NBA.
Top Nine Valentine Day Gift Ideas
If you're a typical guy, then you probably didn't know that this Thursday is Valentine's Day. Which means you probably didn't buy your girlfriend anything yet (or boyfriend - who am I to judge). Which means unless you act soon you will probably spend this weekend alone, watching late night Skinamax.
But don't worry, I'm here to help.
The following list contains nine thoughtful and romantic gifts that are sure to make your significant other giggle with delight - assuming she is a sports fan. If she isn't, then you're screwed.
And for the women who read this, just pray that your boyfriend was lucky enough to have picked your gift out from my list.
Top Nine Valentine Day Gifts for the Casual to Heavy Sports Fan
9. A Patrick Ewing game used jock strap - Nothing says I love you more than a salty, sweaty pair of unmentionables. And no one in professional sports has ever perspired more than "The Hoya Destroya."
8. Pittsburgh Pirates season tickets - Can't ever seem to get any privacy? This gift guarantees 81 secluded dates with no one around for miles. As an added bonus, Lanny Frattare will call all the action from the press box. Chicka Chicka yeah.
7. A copy of Bobby Petrino's new book, How To Stay Faithful: A guide to a long lasting, trust worthy relationship - No one knows how to build trust and be a man of his word more than the current Arkansas and former Atlanta Falcons, Louisville Cardinals, Auburn Tigers, Jacksonville Jaguars, Utah State Aggies, Idaho Vandals, Nevada Runnin' Rebels, Carroll Fighting Saints, Arizona State Sun Devils and Weber State Wildcats coach.
6. A burial spot next to Al Davis' - Well, he's not dead yet. But how cool would it be to put on your tombstone, "Just die, baby."
5. NBA League Pass on Direct TV - If she says you don't put enough effort into the relationship just turn on any NBA game. Then she'll see what it really looks like when someone isn't trying.
4. A book chronicling baseball commissioner Bud Selig's accomplishments - Show your girlfriend that no matter how bad you might mess up in the future, you will never fail as miserably as Bud Selig.
3. A Love Ballad CD performed by the stars of the NHL - Show me a woman who wouldn't enjoy hearing Evgeni Malkin singing Michael Bolton's "When a man loves a woman" and I'll show you a soon-to-be ex-girlfriend.
2. Ben Roethlisberger's phone number - Let's get real, she'd leave you for him in a heart beat. And you didn't even remember Valentine's Day. It's not like you two had a future.
1. A wedding ring - No, I'm just kidding. Shawn Kemp never bought a ring and he has a happy family of thirteen children with nine different women.
But it's Just a Sweet, Sweet Fantasy Baby
I'm sorry I just had to do it. This was the ideal topic to use Mariah Carey lyrics in my title and I just couldn't resist. My only saving grace I believe is that they are old school Mariah lyrics which is so much cooler than new school Mariah Carey, but still not that cool because it is Mariah Carey after all.
Oddly enough, these lyrics were actually fitting to my blog topic today (for once): Fantasy leagues. Was Miss. Carey obsessed with ESPN when she wrote this song? Was she trying to trade for Randy Johnson back in 1995 and, when it didn't work, sighed to herself and said, "It's Just a Sweet, Sweet Fantasy Baby." Probably not, but a girl can dream.
I decided to investigate fantasy leagues because, I do not understand them. Not even a little. What is the point of having fantasy sports leagues? It's just confusing. I couldn't figure out while perusing the ESPN website what was real and what was fantasy league because it all looks the same. Can't you guys out there just play Madden or something? Do you really need your own little fantasy team to play with online? Is this some subconscious way of living out your childhood dreams of playing on a professional team or, more specifically, running a team filled with players of your liking? I bet Scott Boras would kick ass at fantasy baseball.
I started my quest for answers at 10:02 am, which is the exact time I stop paying attention in my science class, which starts at 10am. I have a short attention span. It is now 10:40am and I still have yet to understand anymore about fantasy leagues than I did before. Wikipedia didn't even have a definition about fantasy leagues; I am completely lost.
So, I decided to sign up for a fantasy league myself and obviously I picked, stock car racing. Nothing I love more than stock cars. Whatever that means. Honestly it was the only one I could figure out how to sign up for.
My first task was to join a league and golly was that hard! How do I decide between the "Northern Nascar Nuts" and the "DO WORK SON" leagues? After much debate, I went with WHAT DA HELL I KNOW? group. That doesn't even grammatically make sense which is really fitting to the demographic of people who enjoy nascar. I will be the fourth member of this group. Apparently WHAT DA HELL DO I KNOW? isn't a popular league.
Onto the next step: Creating my team. 1. Location, Location, Location. Estonia obviously. I feel like they could use a league, their voices deserve to be heard! Nickname: The Stones. Get it like the Rolling Stones but not! Abbreviation: What? Um, I guess we'll go with E, but not like the actor on Entourage.
Now, I have the choice to learn about drafting 101, NASCAR in general, or I have the option to "take me to my league." Ok ESPN, take me to my league. I am currently on my little League page, it's like facebook for racing fans! Apparently the draft doesn't occur till February 15th in the "early a.m." What does that even mean? How early is early? Don't people have jobs? How are they going to have time to do this? Our first race is Daytona 500, so the page also has articles about the first race and who is projected to win, which only further confuses me. Are we talking real Daytona or fantasy Daytona? Or does real Daytona influence our fantasy Daytona decisions? I am still lost.
So, this little experiment has been a bit of a let down. I did get to make a sweet racing team, I just don't know what to do with it. Just like my American Girl doll, Samantha, who I received for my 9th birthday, my racing team will sit in my room, unused and unloved mostly because I don't know how to work it, and in Samantha's case, how to play with her (What the heck do you do with a doll that isn't Barbie?) So, thanks for nothing ESPN. I still don't understand fantasy leagues. I don't get why you waste money on journalists to write stories on the fantasy leagues. And I really, really don't understand the appeal of Nascar. What I do know is this: I enjoy reality over fantasy especially when it comes to sports and WHAT DA HELL DO I KNOW? is going to be super pissed at me when I don't wake up at 4:00am, put on my Jeff Gordon racing jacket, pop a can of Bud Light, and race to my computer to draft my perfect Nascar team.
Eli Won My Heart
Forgive me bloggers, for I have sinned. It has been several weeks since my last post.
But no worries, the last couple months I've thought up dozens of topics that I can make fun of. Unfortunately, I forgot them all.
Thank God for the Super Bowl.
Anyone who has read any of my previous posts knows how I feel about the Patriots. Do I hate them out of jealousy? Probably. Does that bother me? Not really.
But relax Pats fans. I will go easy on your team right now because Experience.com is based in Boston, and I don't want to make anyone upset. Actually, I just want to make sure I still get paid.
And in your defense, it wasn't "the biggest upset in Super Bowl history," as so many people are already saying. This isn't Super Bowl III with an AFL team playing an NFL team. This is 2008. Anyone can beat anyone. I don't care if it was a double digit spread (not that I notice those types of things).
Obviously the main story line is the end of the Patriots perfect season. And isn't it ironic that the Patriots dynasty all began with the "Tuck Rule" of 2001, and it might have come to an end at the hands of Justin Tuck on Sunday. Go fig.
But besides the Patriots going "18 and oh no!", Eli Manning was the next biggest story. It wasn't too long ago when he refused to sign with the Chargers, forcing him to be traded to the Giants, thus making him one of the most hated athletes in sports. It wasn't long ago that Eli was being criticized for his inconsistant play by every reporter within 5,000 miles of New York.
Fans hated him, the media didn't care for him - I even heard his dad refused to show up for his birthday party at Chucky Cheese.
Well, times have changed. Eli should send a thank you letter to the Patriots. The only way he could have saved his image and become a hero would be to crush the hopes of someone who is hated even more than himself. Without the Pats becoming the bullies of the NFL, I'm not so sure Eli would have ever been able to crawl out of the hole he dug for himself.
There is no doubt that on his final, game-winning drive on Sunday night, Eli won over the hearts of fans accross America. Yeah, that's cheesy, but it's true. Deal with it.
So put your feet up and relax, Eli. You're the toast of the town for a while. Enjoy it while it lasts.
Blame it on Gisele
(Conversation between my roommate and I)
Me: (gesticulating wildly) WHY is Tom Brady sucking!? Is it the ankle?
Tracy: Blame it on Gisele.
At first I looked at my roommate with skeptical eyes, I mean this was the same girl that told me earlier in the evening that former disgraced Governor of New Jersey, Jim McGreevey, was her distant cousin which was quite possibly the most interesting thing that happened all night. As you can tell the Super Bowl wasn't that interesting up until this point.
After much thought (about 2.5 seconds) I realized that she was right! It completely slipped my mind that Tom Brady's super fine, super hot, super model girlfriend, Gisele, was in attendance in Arizona ( I was too busy trying to evenly spread the guacamole on my quesadilla, you can see where my priorities were at).
Which led to my next thought, WHAT WERE YOU THINKING TOM!? Have you learned NOTHING from Tony Romo and Jessica Simpson. Don't bring the eye candy to a game. She's just distracting and BAD LUCK. Girlfriends are BAD LUCK. Bad Tom. Bad, bad Tom.
But I don't think I can blame it all on Tom, I think I may be partly to blame for the Patriots crushing loss. I hail from the great state of NJ which obviously makes me ....a Pats fan. It's a long story but look I am now going to college in Boston and finally accepted for my sports allegiance so leave me be! Anyway, Jenna the Intern (who you may remember from last semester) sent out a chipper "Hey! Blogging rules! Start blogging Monday Feb 4! Sports guys you'll be SUPER PUMPED because the SUPER BOWL will have just happened! (Jenna really doesn't talk like that )).
And I'll be honest, this made me nervous. I felt instant pressure to write pure sports blogging greatness. That's a lot of anxiety for a young blogger. So, I started thinking about what I would write about, what my angle would be, what would separate my blog from Joe's. After coming up with zilch, I made an offhanded comment, "Gosh if the Patriots would just lose it would make this so much easier. I mean what could be more heartbreaking, more sensational than a team with a perfect record losing to the Wild Card team? Aw, it's not going to happen anyway, the Patriots cannot lose."
The Patriots lost.
And know what the real irony is?
I don't know what to say. I'm at a loss for words. ESPN will spend days analyzing, going through every play to figure out what went wrong. And quite honestly, the Patriots just didn't have it. Whether it was because of his ankle or his mistress, Tom Brady was off. He wasn't hitting his spots. His offense couldn't figure out the Giants defense. The Patriot's defense couldn't stop the Giant's offense. The Giants gave 100%, the Patriots did not. The Giants were simply a better team tonight. Trust me, I can't believe it either.
But I have learned five things from this experience that I will share with you:
1. Don't heckle the opposing team's fans. It will just come back to haunt you. Especially on facebook.
2. Joe Buck is just as bad of an announcer for baseball as he is for football! Go figure!
3. Never EVER watch the Super Bowl with kids that go to Berklee College of Music. You will be hit with questions like, "Does Arizona have a football team" or "Why are they kicking the ball to the other team?"
4. Bill Belichick will stop at nothing to ruin your fun. Case in point: He ran out while the Giants were celebrating because there was still :01 seconds left and technically a play had to be run. Then while they were trying to clear the field, he took the opportunity to run down the tunnel and out of the stadium before the real celebration could begin. He is ruthless and I'm a bit jealous.
5. Plexico is a wimp. Who cries during a Pam Oliver interview? She isn't even that good of an interviewer. Hold back the tears man you're a football player.
And with that I am off to drown my sorrows in chocolate cake. Until next year my dear Pats.
