Are You Kidding Me?

This evening, as I was doing my normal yahoo perusing, something peculiar struck my eye.

The first thing was the fact that the story was about the Chicago Cubs. I like to consider myself a bit of a Cubs fan, ever since that summer I spent grooming them for the world series on MLB 07: The Show. Also I’m a big fan of disappointment and also bears, so win-win. The Chicago Cubs are rolling in both of those things.

Unfortunately this story was no different. It had bears and also, disappointment.

As it turns out Travis Wood stepped to the plate looking like this:

While that is a super great hair flow young Wood here is rocking, there is something not quite right about  this photo. Maybe it’s the score, the Cubs should be losing by a lot more by the bottom of the second. Perhaps it’s the fact that his eyes are closed, you can’t hit the ball if your eyes are closed. Oh, wait. I think it’s probably the fact that THE FREAKING LOGO IS ON HIS HELMET SIDEWAYS. (Also it’s up a little high, but in the great scheme of things that doesn’t seem to be a big problem at this time)

This leads me to ask many questions of Travis Wood:

1. Are you an idiot?

2. Did you not notice something askew about your helmet when you put it on your head?

3. Are you an idiot?

4. Do your teammates hate you so much that they won’t tell you that your helmet looks stupid?

5. Seriously though Travis, are you an idiot?

Granted the Cubs have special embroidered decals that are on their helmets to add ‘more depth and texture than a traditional adhesive’, and pitchers are known to live life on the zany side, that does not excuse this embarrassing event. Travis Wood has many other teammates. All of which probably saw his helmet and thought to themselves, “Hey, his decal looks stupid, I could help….nope. Let’s watch.” And, poor Travis was thrown to the wolves to have his image spread across the world wide web for years to come.

And that is why I’m starting a campaign to become the official uniform fixer of all sporting events. If a”Travis Woods” is about to happen, I’ll be there to rotate that decal. If a hockey jersey is stuck in the back of pants, I will remove it. And if football pads are sticking out of a jersey, you know I’ll be there in a flash.

And next year when the “Official Uniform Fixer Of All Sporting Event” election takes place, remember Vote Amanda!

Hey Sidney Crosby, I’m Your Biggest Fan!

Sidney Crosby

Image via Wikipedia

Dear Sidney Crosby,

Hi! You don’t know me, but I know you! That sounded a little creepy didn’t it? I’m real sorry about that. Anyway, how’s it going?

I don’t know if you know this about yourself, but you used to be a phenomenal hockey player. Remember in 2010, you scored the winning goal in the gold medal hockey game, for your native land of Canada? And remember how you hold the record for the youngest everything ever in the NHL?

Look at all this stuff:
First rookie to record 100 points and 100 penalty minutes in a season
Youngest player to record 100 points in a season
Youngest player to record 200 career points (19 years and 207 days)
Youngest player to record 2 consecutive 100 point seasons
Youngest player voted to the starting lineup in an All-Star Game
Youngest full team captain
Youngest NHL captain to win Stanley Cup (21 years, 10 months, and 5 days)

Those were good times weren’t they Sid? You were a star. And then this happened:


You broke your brain. And now you do nothing except skate around on ice without playing hockey, you’re essentially a figure skater. No one really likes you anymore. Now don’t get sad about that Sidney. You have only played like 8 games in the last year. Surely you can see where I’m coming from here. It’s no wonder people are starting to get angry at you and saying you’re a big baby with a broken head. You don’t do anything and you’re supposedly the Captain of your team.

But I don’t think you’re a baby Sid. That’s why I’m writing this letter to you. Because I like you, broken head or not. And since I’m probably the only one who still likes you, I was wondering if I could get a few things.

1. I’d like a million dollars. You’re being paid right now, but let’s be honest Sidney, you’re not doing anything to earn it. You could sacrifice a few mill. If you could just give me 1 million for being your biggest fan, we’ll call it even.

2. I’m also going to need a real penguin. You play for (well, you are a member of) the Pittsburgh Penguins. Surely you’ve got some sort of connection with a penguin breeder. I need a pet. Get me one Sid.

3. You also played in the olympics with Shea Weber. You guys are probably friends, right? Could you introduce us? I’d really like to marry him.

4. If you can’t get Shea Weber, will you marry me?

5. I’d also like an autographed puck

That’s it Sidney. Just those 5 things. I’m the only who still thinks you can play hockey. I haven’t once called you a whiny baby for having a broken brain. (Trust me, people call you whiny a lot, and sometimes you act a little whiny. I’ve seen the YouTube videos, and I still like ya!) I google you only a weekly* basis just to check on your brain progress. So anyway, you can see how supportive I am, during this time of broken braindom.

*daily. I’m out of control

If you could offer me the same support in fulfilling those demands, that would be phenomenal.

If you don’t, I’m going to be mad at you for a little bit. But I’ll probably still like you, dang it! You’re so darn adorable!

Okay, well have a nice day Sidney! Hope your brain/neck/spine gets better soon!


Amanda, aka Your Biggest (and maybe your only) Fan

Sports Fans 101

Americans as a general rule love sports. It could be the atmosphere, the players, or the air of competition, but there is something about sports that connects everyone. They serve as the great unifier. For the few hours during a sporting event everyone is united. Blue collar, white collar, it doesn’t matter. We’re all doing the same: yelling and hoping our team comes out victorious.

Now since my recent come-outtance as a sports fan I’ve noticed that there are about 5 basic schools of fan-hood at sporting events: (particularly Nashville Predators hockey games) There’s the shouter, the mutterer, the questioner, the crowd-coach and the groupie.

The “Shouter”
They are very passionate about the game. They are also very passionate about beer, drinking one every 15 minutes. They yell everything they say. However, it seems that the shouters don’t actually know how the game works. They just shout whatever is on their mind at the time. They yell at players like they’ll actually be heard. They yell at the referees as if they could do a better job. As the evening goes in their shouting becomes less coherent. Some people might even refer to the shouters as the ‘obnoxious drunks’ (some people = Amanda) .

The “Mutterer”
Unlike the shouters, most mutterers are actually knowledgeable about the game. They know the players and all their statistics. They know when a penalty needs to be called. They’re not boisterous about this information however. They just mumble things like, “Nope. Bad call”, “Guys, come on” or “Toots is on the ice” as if they have secret knowledge that they don’t want to share with anyone other than the person directly next to them. They might be more obnoxious than the shouters simply because when I want to eavesdrop on them it’s really hard.

The “Questioner”
Often attending the game with mutterers, the questioners do just as their name suggests; they ask lots of questions. Questions about how the game works and who the players are, often they are very stupid questions. For instance at the last game I attended the questioner behind me asked their mutterer friend what all the black things (they were hockey pucks) on the ice were and when the best time to go to the bathroom would be. (clearly the best time would be at the end of a period) They have a thirst for knowledge but a complete lack of logical reasoning. They also seem to have a case of voice immodulation disorder because they ask their stupid questions really loud, causing me to laugh at them.

The “Crowd Coach”
This is the person giving really intelligent advice to the players, unfortunately the players cannot hear them because they are up really high. They give helpful advice like, “GUYS! Defend the goal!”, “Shoot the puck!” or “Get a goal!” (FYI this is not actually helpful advice as the players know how to play and that’s why they are in the NHL) The crowd coach population tends to be mostly women, I assume because they feel like they should be mothering the players.

The “Groupies”
The groupies are solely teenage/college age females. They know absolutely nothing about sports. They don’t care to know anything about them either. But they like to look at the players and have chosen their particular love target. They come to the games armed with plenty of neon colored signs proposing marriage to their favorite players. They also get up a lot during the games as if the players will see them amongst the 17,000 other people and fall in love immediately. (this does not appear to be working for them) I find these ones highly obnoxious.

I reluctantly have to admit that I tend to float a little into each of these schools. I mutter things to my neighbors, but also shout at the players. I sometimes coach from my seat, saying things like “Come on Sergei! What are you doing? You need to score!” and “What are you doing Kevin Klein? Why do you always shoot from the blue line!” I’ve been known to ask a stupid question a time or two as well. I even have a players I would be willing to marry if they asked. (Hey Colin Wilson! I’m waiting) But I DO NOT make signs. I draw the line there. (Sidenote: If I made a sign it would not propose marriage. It would say “Hey Brandon Yip! We Want a Yip-Check!!”)

I’m willing to admit that I’m pretty obnoxious. But luckily for me I’m an American. It’s natural for me to do these things at sporting events. In fact I might even say it’s expected. I’ll just be okay with being a shouting, mumbling, questioning, crowd-coach who would marry a player if they asked.

Plus this is the only social setting in which it’s okay for me to shout, “Hey, you suck!” at someone. So I’m not going to argue with the rules.

An Open Letter to the International Olympic Committee

Dear IOC,

Friday, July 27, 2012. To some this may be a regular Friday. Just another day spent complaining about the humidity and the heat. Just a day in July.

Well, not for me. Friday, July 27, 2012 is a day I have waited 4 years for. A day that begins the most joyful weeks of my summer.

July 27, 2012 is the first day of the summer Olympic games in London, England, as I’m sure you are aware. I live my life Olympics to Olympics. Winter, Summer I don’t care. Nothing brings me as much joy as watching nation compete against nation for a small metal disc on a ribbon. I do mean nothing. If I could, I would sit at home for those two weeks, on my couch, and never move so that I could watch every event. In fact, maybe I’ll stop my job search right now just to make sure I have those two weeks off. (I probably won’t do that.) But let’s be honest. Some events are more exciting than others. For instance, I enjoy watching Michael “Albatross Arms” Phelps swim really fast, way more than I enjoy equestrian events. I have taken some creative liberties and made a few minor adjustments to make some sports more enjoyable to the viewer.

Let’s start with rowing. By itself, it’s sort of like watching your camp buddies canoe.  Awesome for two minutes and then you’re over it. And shooting, well that’s just not really exciting for me at all. “But what if we combined them?”, you say. Well that’s exactly what I did.

X-Treme Rowing (The main reason for the unorthodox spelling of extreme is because if you’re flipping through your TV guide and you see X-Treme as compared to extreme, you’re picking the X. It’s just our nature)
Picture this. A team of muscled young men rowing in rhythm down a nice happy river. But what’s this I hear? Gun shots? OH NO. The shooters are on one side of the river with their targets on the other. Oh and they’re on moving platforms?! Going the same way as the rowers?! But, if the rowers don’t row fast enough the shooters will catch up to them and they’ll get shot! X-Treme Rowing!

Now you ask, “What about that boring sailing? Why is that even an Olympic sport?”, you say. Well, how do you feel about Sailminton. “Sailminton? that sounds like a cross between badminton and sailing?” You’re smart! That’s exactly what it is!

4 men. Two paddles. One birdie. A vast ocean, their mistress. Two sailboats traveling parallel to one another. One man serves the birdie to the other boat, they bat that little thing back and forth as the ocean sways them to and fro. Suddenly a giant wave pops up. This does not stop the sailminton. Lose the birdie in the sea, you lose the medal for your country. What once was viewed as a leisure activity has now become the most riveting event in the Olympics. Some go for hours, others only minutes. Only the sea knows when she will rock the boat just so. Nation against nation trying to keep their birdie in the air.

“Can’t we just get rid of fencing altogether?”, you ask. We could. Or maybe…

Water polo has been called an aquatic version of rugby. But what if, just maybe, the athletes were given sabers as well? The ball goes into the other teams net, the point doesn’t count…unless you can win a sword fight. A representative from each team emerges from the pool to have an impromptu pool-side fencing match. But, here’s the kicker, the swords are sharpened. You shed blood, you’re out of the game. The last to leave the pool goes back to their country with a medal and their head held high.

Now I know what you’re thinking, “These sports seem a little violent.” Not at all. They merely give more urgency to winning. So maybe an athlete leaves London with less limbs then they came there with. Well I guess they should have worked harder. (Plus if they’re stupid enough to participate in those events they might deserve to lose a hand)

I realize it may be too late for these events to begin in 2012, but I was hoping they could make their debuts in Rio for the 2016 games. Just let me know if these examples weren’t discriptive enought. I can draw some diagrams if you need, or give a sample of the event itself if you can provide me some athletes.

I look forward to hearing from you soon!


P.S. Michael Phelps is unaware I have given him the nickname Albatross Arms. If you run into Michael Phelps and call him by this nickname, do not tell him you heard it from me. I don’t want him to think I’m a weirdo, ok.