You can't sweat out . . .

Archive for November, 2009|Monthly archive page

Watching six years olds get dominated by the man, the myth the legend: Nyrel Sevillayrel

In Crazy Athletic Feats, Just absolutely dominating people on November 30, 2009 at 11:20 pm

Somewhere in this land, six year olds are allowed to play full contact, cutthroat football.  To the sheer horror of two kids who came into contact with the Nyrel Sevilla aka “the hardest hitting six year old in the game,” and will likely no longer play football.  At least not the quarterback who gets sacked while he stands there begging someone to take a hand-off, fumbles, and can be heard crying while his legs move in the universal bike peddling-while-you’re-on-your-back sign of misery.

The running back who, for some reason, decides to turn towards Nyrel instead of going out of bounds at least looks like he may live to run again, despite being used used as the ball in bowling for kids on the sideline.

Watching this is kind of like watching a bunch of six year olds in the shallow end of a swimming pool when all of a sudden a great white shark comes and eats one of them.  In this case, seeing a kid get eaten by a shark will be one of the funniest things you will see all week.

Someone in Philly is my hero!

In The Sporting Life on November 3, 2009 at 2:00 pm

Last night during Game 5 of the World Series, Fox cameras caught the sign of the decade, as written by a Phillies fan.  As you may recall on this blog months ago, I ripped into A-Rod for his pink lips and how he wasn’t good enough to put any of them on one of my favorite bottles of beer.

Well, a few things have changed since then.  A-Rod’s lips have been all over Kate Hudson.  Win for A-Rod.  But they have also given ridiculously annoying soundbites about his friends on the team like “Jete” and “Swish” and “Butt Buddy.”  Sure, that last one may have been made up, but it is a great nickname for Jorge Posada.  Probably most importantly, they have spouted empty words in the form of apologies for being outed as a steroid user.

And, with the World Series shifting into Novemeber and temperatures dropping, his pink lips have become purple lips.  The sign during the game last night documented this, simply written in black, “Purple Lipped Roid Freak.”  The Red Sox may not have made the world series, but I can rest assured knowing that A-Rod is feeling the proper amount of hatred in visiting ballparks.

The New York City Marathon Makes Me Feel Bad About My Lifestyle: The Third Edition

In Crazy Athletic Feats on November 1, 2009 at 10:21 pm

This morning, standing about fifty yards from my apartment, I watched as countless runners jogged pass on 4th Avenue in Brooklyn, about eight or nine miles into their 26.2 mile journey.

As during the past two years, I still had on my Halloween costume from the night before.  I’m a huge fan of sleeping in my Halloween costume, by the way.  In this year’s episode, I woke up on a guy’s couch in the Village, still wearing my American flag tie that I had covered with the Cubs logo in my tribute to the late Harry Caray, as portrayed by Will Ferrell.  On the couch next to me, one of my friends was decked out in full 80’s glam band regalia, apparently having had his foolproof plan to run in the marathon under false credentials fall through the cracks.

After sneaking my third cup of free Gatorade (technically, I think the cups were for people to hand to the runners, but I didn’t see any signs specifically telling me that I too couldn’t quench my thirst), I got a little bored.  I can only take so much of watching overachievers (and people who are in good shape) run by while I feel like I am going to die.

So, as in past years, I went back to my apartment and made a sandwich.  And drank a bloody mary.  And watched Sportscenter.  And took a shower.

And then, after a couple hours had passed, I walked back out to 4th Avenue to watch volunteers clean up thousands of empty cups while groups of marathon outcasts trudge by.  Runners in boas, runners in costumes, runners who were dancing more than running.

After stealing a fourth cup of Gatorade and actually handing it out to a runner instead of downing it myself, I headed back to my apartment to lay down on the couch.  Watching the marathon is always so tiring.