On Monday, November 3rd 2008, I cast my vote for the next President of the United States. The polls were at a little V.F.W. type place in Lorain and I thought I would be slick and go Monday to avoid the long lines of Tuesday morning, Sounds good. I stood in line for three hours in the rain and cold amongst hundreds and hundreds of voters with the same idea. It was interesting to hear everyone talking and see some of the things they were wearing mostly in support of Obama.
I finally got to my little semi-private voting booth, and it was on. I was excited to vote for Barack Obama, as like most, I was excited for change. That was the easy decision, President. The rest was kind of a blur and I have no recollection of the other 15 or so issues and candidates that I voted on and I should have just stopped after the Presidential because the rest I really didn't care about.
I am politically retarded. I hate all things politics. I have no idea where anyone stands or what they're about, I just knew I wanted something different for at least the next four years and I'm sure if nothing else, the first black president would provide that. How bad can he do? the country was already upside down economy wise, we're involved in a couple of wars that no one, especially the countries we're trying to help are appreciative of and health care needs to be looked at.
It amazes me how people feel so strongly about candidates and issues but most of them when asked won't say who they're voting for. That's totally fine with me because as I stated, I know less than nothing about politics. I hate political shows, I hate political comedians, I hate comedic political shows, I hate politics. I've never asked anyone who they were voting for because frankly, I don't give a shit. I'm sure that in some way that makes me un-American or stupid, but would John McCain and Tina Fey really have made that much of a difference? I mean, she is great for some Saturday Night Live skits and her daughter thats a mother is kind of a train wreck, but besides that where would we be better or worse?
My reason for writing this came about in that I get a little tired of hearing people(my own wife included) bitching about things like: Obama makes a pitch for LeBron James to go to the Chicago Bulls, Obama picked Kansas to win the NCAA basketball March Madness tournament, the Obamas takes too many vacations, he does too many tv interviews.... Who gives a shit! he is the President of the United States and he is a HUMAN MALE! The pressure that he must face on an hourly basis is unfathomable. I worry about keeping cheese out of a guests pasta so they dont have an uncomfortable two hour stretch of pissing out of their anus and he has the fate of millions upon millions of people in his hands and weighing on his heart.
He's relatable even to me who like I think I've made my point don't give two shits about this type of thing, but I think it's cool he does more than just sit in the oval office and contemplate giving aid to the Congo to research the effect gorilla feces has on the mountain landscape or spending tax dollars trying to figure out why Greenland is named Greenland when it is totally covered with ice and rock and why Iceland is named Iceland when for parts of the year is actually quite pleasant to be there. Good for him. Take vacations, have sports opinions and be heard and seen by the people of our country through the most wonderous invention prior to Mountain Dew, velcro and Post-it notes, the television.
I will back him or whoever else is in the White House Democrat or Republican until we are denied the things that I think most of us Americans take for granted like all things written in the US Constitution, listening to whatever radio stations we want or if we desired, go to Las Vegas and legally pay a woman to have sex with us(I mean, I heard that happens)Until things like that go away, the Pres is golden and who cares if his daughters do the Soulja Boy or the Stanky Leg after they finish dinner and their homework.
Bottom line is, I am a political Simple Jack and go by the philosophy "we're going to be F-d either way, so just pick one" Hate me or call me ignorant or both. I'm over it already and am going to enjoy the fact that I can watch Jersey Shore and not be shot for it.
Monday, August 30, 2010
Monday, August 16, 2010
Fall Guys
I hate the fall. To me, every fall re-champions it's title as the worst period of time ever. They say that Cleveland has two seasons--winter and construction, and I think I would actually prefer construction over the fall anyday. I understand that for about three days, trees look pretty cool with the differences in colors of their leaves, but for the majority, its all bad. Colder weather, shorter periods of daylight, the aforementioned trees basically dying for a few months and most of all it reminds me of how much I despised the summer ending and returning back to school when I was younger. I hate it all, the look, the smell, the feel, yucccccchhhhhh!
There is a saving grace for this wretched period though, Football. Not just Football, but more importantly, Fantasy Football(and yes i do think it holds the properness of capital F's). I heart Fantasy Football!!!!
As a kid growing up in Cleveland in the late 70's early 80's, I played and watched alot of football on tv. On W. 46th and Busch Ave., kids grew up either Steelers, Raiders or Cowboys fans. I was a Cowboys freak and wished Roger Staubach and Tony Dorsett were my parents even though it would be wildly frowned upon, was illegal and oh yeah, I already had parents. There wasn't much hometown Browns love as they weren't very good.
I moved to Massachusetts in 1984 and although I continued to play football, I pretty much stopped watching it all together as my dad have rather watched blind LPGA snow golf than football and I spent most of my weekend time pursuing my dream of someday playing in the NBA by hooping for 10-12 hours each day. Good thing huh, look where it got me- fat, two torn ACL's, multiple broken ankles and if lucky, a wheelchair at 50.
Out of school and once I started working, I don't think I had a Sunday off for the next 15 years minus vacations or a few injuries. Football fell waaaayyy off the list of significance in my life.
In 2006, my buddy Troy invited me to join his fantasty league. I had never done it before and even though I was miseducated on the Fantasy game(and football players in general at this point), I wanted try as I had heard how much fun it was. I was not disappointed. I instantly became addicted, fell in love with it and impatiently await its arrival every year like a fat kid waiting for a new Dolly Madison outlet to open. In two weeks, I will be participating in my fifth season of Troy's league which kicks off with the Triple-S(Sympson Summer Spectacular) where he and his lovely wife Sara host us members with great food and hospitality and culminating with the choosing of our players.
This year I will be commissioning a league of my own for the second straight season with all of the members being people I work with. Troy's league is competitive, but a gentlemens(and lady) league for the most part besides the occasional ribbing by members toward each other. My league on the other hand is kind of like the now defunct XFL meets the first twenty minutes of Saving Private Ryan. We all have outrageously big egos and mouths, and no one, especially another member of our league can tell us our shit stinks.
If it weren't so cliche-ish, my league would appropriately be named 12 Angry Men. No one is safe, nothing is sacred. We will talk hateful shit to each other continuously the whole calendar year whether its football season or not. How mothers and family and significant others figure into this is a mystery but somehow in the banter that ensues, they do. It doesn't help that most of us will see each other nearly every day throughout the season. I love it and can't wait. Our draft is Sunday and it can't come soon enough.
I love every part of it from saving a date to deciding draft order to making the picks w all of the members to the food involved and of course the shit talking. The only thing bad about it is that you kind of lose NFL team loyalty as you want your Fantasy team to do better.
After the drafts, I will analyze and rate my picks and countdown to the beginning of the NFL season. From the kickoff of the first game until a champion is determined, these two leagues will consume my life. I will watch all three games on Sundays and the Monday night game as well, all the while following along on my computer screen with the real time results and scoring. I just don't want to beat my opponent for the week, I want them to cross the street if we're walking on the same side in embarrassment. So, please hurry 8/22/10, I've been waiting for you.
To me, as the Christmas carol states, "Its the most wonderful time of the year" and it lets me give the fall a BIG middle finger. Suck it fall. Fantasy Football gives me reason to live after August and thank you Troy Sympson for making this Fantasy Football Frankenstein come alive.
To members of The Cizz FFL good luck, I hate you.
There is a saving grace for this wretched period though, Football. Not just Football, but more importantly, Fantasy Football(and yes i do think it holds the properness of capital F's). I heart Fantasy Football!!!!
As a kid growing up in Cleveland in the late 70's early 80's, I played and watched alot of football on tv. On W. 46th and Busch Ave., kids grew up either Steelers, Raiders or Cowboys fans. I was a Cowboys freak and wished Roger Staubach and Tony Dorsett were my parents even though it would be wildly frowned upon, was illegal and oh yeah, I already had parents. There wasn't much hometown Browns love as they weren't very good.
I moved to Massachusetts in 1984 and although I continued to play football, I pretty much stopped watching it all together as my dad have rather watched blind LPGA snow golf than football and I spent most of my weekend time pursuing my dream of someday playing in the NBA by hooping for 10-12 hours each day. Good thing huh, look where it got me- fat, two torn ACL's, multiple broken ankles and if lucky, a wheelchair at 50.
Out of school and once I started working, I don't think I had a Sunday off for the next 15 years minus vacations or a few injuries. Football fell waaaayyy off the list of significance in my life.
In 2006, my buddy Troy invited me to join his fantasty league. I had never done it before and even though I was miseducated on the Fantasy game(and football players in general at this point), I wanted try as I had heard how much fun it was. I was not disappointed. I instantly became addicted, fell in love with it and impatiently await its arrival every year like a fat kid waiting for a new Dolly Madison outlet to open. In two weeks, I will be participating in my fifth season of Troy's league which kicks off with the Triple-S(Sympson Summer Spectacular) where he and his lovely wife Sara host us members with great food and hospitality and culminating with the choosing of our players.
This year I will be commissioning a league of my own for the second straight season with all of the members being people I work with. Troy's league is competitive, but a gentlemens(and lady) league for the most part besides the occasional ribbing by members toward each other. My league on the other hand is kind of like the now defunct XFL meets the first twenty minutes of Saving Private Ryan. We all have outrageously big egos and mouths, and no one, especially another member of our league can tell us our shit stinks.
If it weren't so cliche-ish, my league would appropriately be named 12 Angry Men. No one is safe, nothing is sacred. We will talk hateful shit to each other continuously the whole calendar year whether its football season or not. How mothers and family and significant others figure into this is a mystery but somehow in the banter that ensues, they do. It doesn't help that most of us will see each other nearly every day throughout the season. I love it and can't wait. Our draft is Sunday and it can't come soon enough.
I love every part of it from saving a date to deciding draft order to making the picks w all of the members to the food involved and of course the shit talking. The only thing bad about it is that you kind of lose NFL team loyalty as you want your Fantasy team to do better.
After the drafts, I will analyze and rate my picks and countdown to the beginning of the NFL season. From the kickoff of the first game until a champion is determined, these two leagues will consume my life. I will watch all three games on Sundays and the Monday night game as well, all the while following along on my computer screen with the real time results and scoring. I just don't want to beat my opponent for the week, I want them to cross the street if we're walking on the same side in embarrassment. So, please hurry 8/22/10, I've been waiting for you.
To me, as the Christmas carol states, "Its the most wonderful time of the year" and it lets me give the fall a BIG middle finger. Suck it fall. Fantasy Football gives me reason to live after August and thank you Troy Sympson for making this Fantasy Football Frankenstein come alive.
To members of The Cizz FFL good luck, I hate you.
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
Pampered
I was so excited to take my first trip to Hawaii. I was going to propose to my girlfriend in super stud fashion, on a beach at sunset in Hawaii. Winner, winner chicken dinner. We were going with my parents, my grandmother and my sister. Thanks to AP, I was reminded of the memorable experience of flying there, so I will share.
As you all know, I love food. I had gone no carb for the month leading up to the trip to work on my girlish figure and look halfway tolerable, although beit still ass white in my board shorts. The plan though was to do some serious gastrointestinal damage once the trip began, starting with the strange near fetish but definite obsession that I have w airport food court food. It didnt even matter to me that our flight left at 5 a.m., I was ready to do work. I had dreamed for the two weeks leading up to the trip, not of paradise or my impending engagement, but of my traveling meal plan.
I hit a speed bump early as Cleveland Hopkins has zero to weak food choices at best at such an early hour. No worries, O' Hare was only an hour away and though I had never flown through there before, I had to believe that I would be pleased w the plethora of yumminess ahead. I was not disappointed, there were tons of options. My facial expression probably mirrored that of Charlie, Grandpa Joe, Mike Teevee and Veruca Salt seeing the inside of the factory for the first time. I did a little window shopping, but in my stomach of stomachs I knew there was only one endgame. Manchu Wok(is it bad I still remember the name?)get ready.
We had a little bit of a layover, which was perfect because M.W. didnt open until 7. It was going to cut it close to when we had to board, but I would not be denied, I've been waiting a month for this, and there will be other flights.
With my three item combo and what had to be a gallon of Diet Coke in hand, we boarded our plane. I patiently waited until we were at cruising altitude to dig in as we still had about three hours left until we arrived at LAX. Grub time. I started in and it was everything I had hoped for. After a couple of bites, I had to wash down this goodness so I tipped my drink and took a long sip. What I didnt realize was that the lid wasnt on tight and the whole time I was sipping, I was pouring DC all over my white tee and shorts. Sweet. I was now going to be cold, soaked and look like I pissed myself for the rest of the day as we had no carry on clothes. Fuck Yeah! This really took it down a notch.
We got to LA and I immediately ran to the store to buy the worst shirt I could find. I bought a smedium LAPD Serve and Protect shirt that I still giggle about out loud. I then went into the bathroom, tried to clean up a little and re-robed. Theres no hiding the DC crotch soak though, so with that and my tiny shirt going for me, I looked like a creepo that shouldnt be left alone or near children. Time to board!
Getting to our seats, normalcy again was restored. Shei had the window, I was in the middle and there was an about 15 year old in the aisle seat. He was with The Brady Bunch I think because the row in front of us were his parents and a sibling and the row behind us were three siblings as well, we were surrounded. I took a little nap and when I awoke it was time to break out the entertainment. I brought along a portable DVD player and was beginning to watch Kill Bill when I noticed the kid doing the sneaky peek over to catch a glimpse. I had earphones on so he couldnt hear but it was kind of uncomfortable, as I didnt know if he should be watching it.
I started turning the DVD player to take away his angle until finally I had to just tell him to stop watching which drew a sharp elbow from my future bride. His parents kind of acknowledged the situation but I looked serious, especially w my sweet outfit which they didnt want any part of, so no drama. I still had 4 hours next to this kid who at the very least now thinks I'm the biggest douchebag alive.
It gets better. After the movie was over, I started going through the Skymall magazine to help pass the time. Shei noticed a three or four page section devoted to "The Pampered Chef" and knows I get excited about kitcheny things so we started discussing their products. I had seen some of their stuff before and know it's not the best quality, and in typical Cizz fashion begin to almost angrily verbally shred the brand. "Look at this shit, Dollar Store quality at Williams-Sonoma prices, way overpriced for this garbage, I wouldn't use this shit for free, let alone pay for it" on and on and on with only maybe half of an inside voice to the point where Shei was like, "ok, I get it, no Pampered Chef gift card for you for Christmas" and we continued through the pages.
We finally landed in Hawaii and were ready to officially start the vacation. As the "fasten seat belt" light went off and everyone started to scurry, I noticed but tried not to look at the kid's parents glaring at me. I thought it was because I got at their son a little bit, and I felt bad so I was ready to muster up an apology when Sheila nudged me and tried not to burst out in laughter. Thats when I noticed very prominent "Pampered Chef" logos on Carol and Mike Brady's polo shirts. Talk about an uncomfortable Larry David moment. We had no where to go as the door of the plane was still minutes from opening so we just stood there awkwardly and held in laughter. I had verbally bashed this company for a good part of 7 minutes and unbeknownst to me, the President of pampered chef was sitting in front of me w her husband and family, all to hear the whole thing. My bad.
I know she was the president because when we got off of the plane, their driver held a sign saying "Mrs. Blank, President of Pampered Chef". They were there for the Pampered Chef annual awards conference. Yikes.
I don't know how many, if any other Pampered Chef employees were on the plane, but I think enough damage was done. We had an amazing 7 days in paradise and I came home w a fiance
and a great story.
As you all know, I love food. I had gone no carb for the month leading up to the trip to work on my girlish figure and look halfway tolerable, although beit still ass white in my board shorts. The plan though was to do some serious gastrointestinal damage once the trip began, starting with the strange near fetish but definite obsession that I have w airport food court food. It didnt even matter to me that our flight left at 5 a.m., I was ready to do work. I had dreamed for the two weeks leading up to the trip, not of paradise or my impending engagement, but of my traveling meal plan.
I hit a speed bump early as Cleveland Hopkins has zero to weak food choices at best at such an early hour. No worries, O' Hare was only an hour away and though I had never flown through there before, I had to believe that I would be pleased w the plethora of yumminess ahead. I was not disappointed, there were tons of options. My facial expression probably mirrored that of Charlie, Grandpa Joe, Mike Teevee and Veruca Salt seeing the inside of the factory for the first time. I did a little window shopping, but in my stomach of stomachs I knew there was only one endgame. Manchu Wok(is it bad I still remember the name?)get ready.
We had a little bit of a layover, which was perfect because M.W. didnt open until 7. It was going to cut it close to when we had to board, but I would not be denied, I've been waiting a month for this, and there will be other flights.
With my three item combo and what had to be a gallon of Diet Coke in hand, we boarded our plane. I patiently waited until we were at cruising altitude to dig in as we still had about three hours left until we arrived at LAX. Grub time. I started in and it was everything I had hoped for. After a couple of bites, I had to wash down this goodness so I tipped my drink and took a long sip. What I didnt realize was that the lid wasnt on tight and the whole time I was sipping, I was pouring DC all over my white tee and shorts. Sweet. I was now going to be cold, soaked and look like I pissed myself for the rest of the day as we had no carry on clothes. Fuck Yeah! This really took it down a notch.
We got to LA and I immediately ran to the store to buy the worst shirt I could find. I bought a smedium LAPD Serve and Protect shirt that I still giggle about out loud. I then went into the bathroom, tried to clean up a little and re-robed. Theres no hiding the DC crotch soak though, so with that and my tiny shirt going for me, I looked like a creepo that shouldnt be left alone or near children. Time to board!
Getting to our seats, normalcy again was restored. Shei had the window, I was in the middle and there was an about 15 year old in the aisle seat. He was with The Brady Bunch I think because the row in front of us were his parents and a sibling and the row behind us were three siblings as well, we were surrounded. I took a little nap and when I awoke it was time to break out the entertainment. I brought along a portable DVD player and was beginning to watch Kill Bill when I noticed the kid doing the sneaky peek over to catch a glimpse. I had earphones on so he couldnt hear but it was kind of uncomfortable, as I didnt know if he should be watching it.
I started turning the DVD player to take away his angle until finally I had to just tell him to stop watching which drew a sharp elbow from my future bride. His parents kind of acknowledged the situation but I looked serious, especially w my sweet outfit which they didnt want any part of, so no drama. I still had 4 hours next to this kid who at the very least now thinks I'm the biggest douchebag alive.
It gets better. After the movie was over, I started going through the Skymall magazine to help pass the time. Shei noticed a three or four page section devoted to "The Pampered Chef" and knows I get excited about kitcheny things so we started discussing their products. I had seen some of their stuff before and know it's not the best quality, and in typical Cizz fashion begin to almost angrily verbally shred the brand. "Look at this shit, Dollar Store quality at Williams-Sonoma prices, way overpriced for this garbage, I wouldn't use this shit for free, let alone pay for it" on and on and on with only maybe half of an inside voice to the point where Shei was like, "ok, I get it, no Pampered Chef gift card for you for Christmas" and we continued through the pages.
We finally landed in Hawaii and were ready to officially start the vacation. As the "fasten seat belt" light went off and everyone started to scurry, I noticed but tried not to look at the kid's parents glaring at me. I thought it was because I got at their son a little bit, and I felt bad so I was ready to muster up an apology when Sheila nudged me and tried not to burst out in laughter. Thats when I noticed very prominent "Pampered Chef" logos on Carol and Mike Brady's polo shirts. Talk about an uncomfortable Larry David moment. We had no where to go as the door of the plane was still minutes from opening so we just stood there awkwardly and held in laughter. I had verbally bashed this company for a good part of 7 minutes and unbeknownst to me, the President of pampered chef was sitting in front of me w her husband and family, all to hear the whole thing. My bad.
I know she was the president because when we got off of the plane, their driver held a sign saying "Mrs. Blank, President of Pampered Chef". They were there for the Pampered Chef annual awards conference. Yikes.
I don't know how many, if any other Pampered Chef employees were on the plane, but I think enough damage was done. We had an amazing 7 days in paradise and I came home w a fiance
and a great story.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Yonatan
Last week, for the first time in my life, I had one of those moments. Ive seen it overacted many times in movies and on TV and thought to myself "yeah right, like they wouldnt remember" until it happened to me.
I wanted a big dry erase board in our prep kitchen at work. It was so that we, as a chef team, could educate our staff about important information that would help empower them to move the restaurant forward.
I put one of my sous chefs in charge of buying the board, dry erase markers and thin, black electrical tape to border off the different sections. He brought in all of the supplies and we were on our way. Board, check. Markers, check. Tape, wahhh wawww. Too thick. I needed it to be thinner and was told by my sous chef, "they didn't have any such thing". Well, I know they do and I'm gonna call the guy who put the board together at my previous spot to find out where we got it, then, Boom! the punch to the gut.
As I reached for my phone, I realized I had done it. The man I was going to call was my long time friend, one time sous chef and best man in our wedding, Jon Banks. Jon passed away on March 15th of this year. He was 35 years old. His passing was so sudden and shocking, leaving a lot of questions to this day yet to be answered. I couldnt believe it, had I already forgotten about losing Jon and put him that far out of my mind like one of those shows/movies that I mentioned?
We became friends more than ten years ago, when he first came to work for The Factory. As years went by, life changes and people move around, but I always knew that when I called Jon or when he called me no matter where we were, we just picked up the conversation like we were standing in a prep kitchen together.
I wanted a big dry erase board in our prep kitchen at work. It was so that we, as a chef team, could educate our staff about important information that would help empower them to move the restaurant forward.
I put one of my sous chefs in charge of buying the board, dry erase markers and thin, black electrical tape to border off the different sections. He brought in all of the supplies and we were on our way. Board, check. Markers, check. Tape, wahhh wawww. Too thick. I needed it to be thinner and was told by my sous chef, "they didn't have any such thing". Well, I know they do and I'm gonna call the guy who put the board together at my previous spot to find out where we got it, then, Boom! the punch to the gut.
As I reached for my phone, I realized I had done it. The man I was going to call was my long time friend, one time sous chef and best man in our wedding, Jon Banks. Jon passed away on March 15th of this year. He was 35 years old. His passing was so sudden and shocking, leaving a lot of questions to this day yet to be answered. I couldnt believe it, had I already forgotten about losing Jon and put him that far out of my mind like one of those shows/movies that I mentioned?
We became friends more than ten years ago, when he first came to work for The Factory. As years went by, life changes and people move around, but I always knew that when I called Jon or when he called me no matter where we were, we just picked up the conversation like we were standing in a prep kitchen together.
Jon was a funny cat. He always uplifted the spirits of the people around him, and playing jokes on everyone. He was also very unselfish. When Sheila and I figured out when our wedding date was going to be, I called Jon(who was living in St. Louis at the time and I hadnt talked to him in probably 4-5 months) and asked him to be my best man for our October 1, 2005 wedding in Cleveland. He immediately, excitedly accepted and we didn't find out until our wedding day that it was also Jon's 30th birthday. He never mentioned it to take away from our day and we had to announce it at our reception to give him some props. This meant alot to us, as a single guy with a million friends on a milestone birthday, would fly in to be with us, no questions.
I see probably 5 guys a week that make me do a doubletake thinking they're Jon. I think about him alot and the funny, dumb stuff he used to do and the hundreds of stories I have about him. He was a good friend to Sheila as well and we miss being able to pick up the phone and bullshit or ask him where to buy thin electrical tape for dry erase board projects.
We miss you bro.
Sunday, July 18, 2010
Gaymes
Ok, now with the LeBron saga finally over and most fan's feelings turned from heart break to being over it, its time to move on. Right? We'll try. The Tribe is playing better as of late and Brown's training camp starts soon so there are a few things to look forward to as a Cleveland sports fan.
On my way home from work the other night, I was listening to what I would nominate, if ever my opinion was asked, the worst show in the history of sports talk radio. I was ready to try to find a combination of static, deathmetal and folk when I heard a very intriguing pre-break teaser. They were going to discuss a major sporting event that Cleveland was going to be hosting and would bring alot of opportunity to our city.
They had me. I was waiting anxiously during the over the top silly car commercials and throwing out ideas in my head. 2020 Summer Olympiad? 2018 World Cup?Superbowl LV? 2015 Summer X Games? 2011 Bowling championship?(I'm glad I don't know what it's really called) I started to feel like Ralphie Parker waiting for the message using his Ovaltine decoder ring.
They returned and quickly ended the buildup. Unbeknownst to me,(seems like I was one of only a few that didnt know) back in September of '09 Cleveland, Ohio was awarded the 2014 Gay Games (huh?) beating out Boston and Washington D.C.. I had no idea there was such a thing. I was just happy that we finally beat Boston at something. After a little research, I found that there are 12,000 participants in the games, which is more than the Olympics and It could bring anywhere from $50m to $80m to the local economy and great exposure for travel and tourism to Cleveland. Then I thought, are we ready for this?
The Games have previously been held in cities such as Vancouver, Amsterdam, Sydney, Chicago, San Francisco and this year they are being held in Cologne, Germany. Im sure they all have their issues, but this is Cleveland. Chicago dyes their river green for St. Patricks Day, our river may still spontaneously combust at any moment. Vancouver's nickname is "Hollywood north", ours is "the mistake on the lake", you get it. We are the ugly duckling in this for sure.
This is not the announcement that I thought they were going to make. I'm disappointed its not something that has to do with one of the four, five, eight or even ten major sports we have in this country. Either way, Cleveland has a chance to shine on a pretty big stage. Hopefully, Byner won't carry, Ehlo wont defend and Elway sits this one out. We could really use the boost, but not so fast.
Boston, fackin Bawston, has cried foul. The city officials vying for the games to be held there claim that Cleveland has broken many of the rules that would make it possible to host including: the maximum number of sports allowed is 28 and Cleveland has applied for 40. Also, all venues are to be within a max of 15 miles of city limits (golf would be held in Akron, home of the traitor) which is 45 miles away. So, not only do the Celts and the Sox get the best of us, now the city officials are getting at us as well. The decision to allow Cleveland to host is now under review and could possibly be overtrurned and granted to Boston. Of course. Why would we get the chance for good exposure?
As much as Cleveland could really benefit from hosting these games, it seems like our sports curse cannot be lifted. We'll have to wait and see. At least the Cavs two draft picks and Vitaly Potapenko are dominating the Summer league, Tim Couch is in great shape and Jose Mesa is throwing a wicked 12 to 6 in Columbus.
On my way home from work the other night, I was listening to what I would nominate, if ever my opinion was asked, the worst show in the history of sports talk radio. I was ready to try to find a combination of static, deathmetal and folk when I heard a very intriguing pre-break teaser. They were going to discuss a major sporting event that Cleveland was going to be hosting and would bring alot of opportunity to our city.
They had me. I was waiting anxiously during the over the top silly car commercials and throwing out ideas in my head. 2020 Summer Olympiad? 2018 World Cup?Superbowl LV? 2015 Summer X Games? 2011 Bowling championship?(I'm glad I don't know what it's really called) I started to feel like Ralphie Parker waiting for the message using his Ovaltine decoder ring.
They returned and quickly ended the buildup. Unbeknownst to me,(seems like I was one of only a few that didnt know) back in September of '09 Cleveland, Ohio was awarded the 2014 Gay Games (huh?) beating out Boston and Washington D.C.. I had no idea there was such a thing. I was just happy that we finally beat Boston at something. After a little research, I found that there are 12,000 participants in the games, which is more than the Olympics and It could bring anywhere from $50m to $80m to the local economy and great exposure for travel and tourism to Cleveland. Then I thought, are we ready for this?
The Games have previously been held in cities such as Vancouver, Amsterdam, Sydney, Chicago, San Francisco and this year they are being held in Cologne, Germany. Im sure they all have their issues, but this is Cleveland. Chicago dyes their river green for St. Patricks Day, our river may still spontaneously combust at any moment. Vancouver's nickname is "Hollywood north", ours is "the mistake on the lake", you get it. We are the ugly duckling in this for sure.
This is not the announcement that I thought they were going to make. I'm disappointed its not something that has to do with one of the four, five, eight or even ten major sports we have in this country. Either way, Cleveland has a chance to shine on a pretty big stage. Hopefully, Byner won't carry, Ehlo wont defend and Elway sits this one out. We could really use the boost, but not so fast.
Boston, fackin Bawston, has cried foul. The city officials vying for the games to be held there claim that Cleveland has broken many of the rules that would make it possible to host including: the maximum number of sports allowed is 28 and Cleveland has applied for 40. Also, all venues are to be within a max of 15 miles of city limits (golf would be held in Akron, home of the traitor) which is 45 miles away. So, not only do the Celts and the Sox get the best of us, now the city officials are getting at us as well. The decision to allow Cleveland to host is now under review and could possibly be overtrurned and granted to Boston. Of course. Why would we get the chance for good exposure?
As much as Cleveland could really benefit from hosting these games, it seems like our sports curse cannot be lifted. We'll have to wait and see. At least the Cavs two draft picks and Vitaly Potapenko are dominating the Summer league, Tim Couch is in great shape and Jose Mesa is throwing a wicked 12 to 6 in Columbus.
Saturday, July 10, 2010
LeGone
Thank you LeBron for pushing me to finally start my blog. My hate filled venomous tweet rant left me unfulfilled as a man, Cavs fan and most of all Clevelander. I'm not even that upset anymore that he left, even though obviously we were the team to beat w him on it. It's the way he did it, spitting in Clevelands face and making a mockery of us with "the decision" on live, national TV.
There is an interview w LeBron from 2006 in which he states " I want to bring a championship to Northeast Ohio and will do whatever it takes to do so". He went on to say he would "never be a ring chaser". Hello foot, I'm mouth, come inside.
Lebron has already shown Cleveland that he has no heart and now proves he has no balls as well. Not making any effort to communicate with the Cavs after the season ended and then dropping this on the organization without a heads up to seek a "plan B" just adds to the cowardice displayed by a spoiled, had everything handed to me my whole life brat kid. His self-promoting, Vitamin Water sponsored decision show was a joke, though I too usually keep Vitamin Water on my bookshelves as the B & G club of Greenwich does.
He was noticeably uneasy at the beginning of the interview until the announcement that he was going to use his talents, not with the Heat or Wade and Bosh but in South Beach. Hmmm...was that supposed to try to ease the pain of Ohioans, like we didnt know that South Beach was Miami? StupidAss. As the interview went on, he got looser and started to feel more comfortable w the damage he was causing. As his talk with Jim Gray ended( i hate him too now), I'm sure he felt almost at ease as the softball questions were kid glove handed to him by the analysts at ESPN. Then it happened.
Michael Wilbon showed LeBron images and video of his beloved fans in Lakewood burning LeBron jerseys and tshirts. You would have thought that he was shown Gloria and Delonte hittin it on LeBrons kitchen table surrounded by Vitamin Water and both of them wearing St. Vincent St. Marys #23 jerseys. Classic. His face and body language immediately changed and though he managed to get through the rest of the questioning, he was noticeably affected. Cleveland's err.... Akron's most beloved son became the devil in the blink of an eye.
The next day, Dan Gilbert became my favorite person. His reaction letter to "the decision" was maybe the best thing to happen to Cleveland sports since the drafting of The Lord of No Rings. It was great. It's about time that someone in Ctown showed some serious passion about one of our sports organizations. I hope that he follows up and pushes hard. I may get a GILBERT #23 Cavs jersey made in his honor and buy his Fathead.
The great thing about this is that he will never, no matter how many rings he gets(assuming that he does win some), be a real winner in most peoples minds. Mike, Larry, Magic, Kobe, Isiah, KG even soft ass Timmy will all be greater champions when its said and done because they were true and had heart. Each one of those guys would rather kill you than let you even score, let alone take a championship from them. LeTinman doesnt have that in him and would rather be friends w other players on the court and dap it up and play you score and then let me score. Hey fuckstick, no one else is like that, this isnt your high school camp where players need to kiss your ass. NBA players don't care who you think you are, they're pros too, stupid.
In closing, I love the Cavs more now than ever. They need us. There will be a huge hole for a while where Bron was and we are going to struggle for a minute. Thats ok, we're Cleveland and we've been through this before. To quote my loving mother, "LeBron James should burn in hell......Laces out". Thank you, mom. Any combination of sports and Ace Ventura can never be bad, even if they don't match. Suck it Bron.
There is an interview w LeBron from 2006 in which he states " I want to bring a championship to Northeast Ohio and will do whatever it takes to do so". He went on to say he would "never be a ring chaser". Hello foot, I'm mouth, come inside.
Lebron has already shown Cleveland that he has no heart and now proves he has no balls as well. Not making any effort to communicate with the Cavs after the season ended and then dropping this on the organization without a heads up to seek a "plan B" just adds to the cowardice displayed by a spoiled, had everything handed to me my whole life brat kid. His self-promoting, Vitamin Water sponsored decision show was a joke, though I too usually keep Vitamin Water on my bookshelves as the B & G club of Greenwich does.
He was noticeably uneasy at the beginning of the interview until the announcement that he was going to use his talents, not with the Heat or Wade and Bosh but in South Beach. Hmmm...was that supposed to try to ease the pain of Ohioans, like we didnt know that South Beach was Miami? StupidAss. As the interview went on, he got looser and started to feel more comfortable w the damage he was causing. As his talk with Jim Gray ended( i hate him too now), I'm sure he felt almost at ease as the softball questions were kid glove handed to him by the analysts at ESPN. Then it happened.
Michael Wilbon showed LeBron images and video of his beloved fans in Lakewood burning LeBron jerseys and tshirts. You would have thought that he was shown Gloria and Delonte hittin it on LeBrons kitchen table surrounded by Vitamin Water and both of them wearing St. Vincent St. Marys #23 jerseys. Classic. His face and body language immediately changed and though he managed to get through the rest of the questioning, he was noticeably affected. Cleveland's err.... Akron's most beloved son became the devil in the blink of an eye.
The next day, Dan Gilbert became my favorite person. His reaction letter to "the decision" was maybe the best thing to happen to Cleveland sports since the drafting of The Lord of No Rings. It was great. It's about time that someone in Ctown showed some serious passion about one of our sports organizations. I hope that he follows up and pushes hard. I may get a GILBERT #23 Cavs jersey made in his honor and buy his Fathead.
The great thing about this is that he will never, no matter how many rings he gets(assuming that he does win some), be a real winner in most peoples minds. Mike, Larry, Magic, Kobe, Isiah, KG even soft ass Timmy will all be greater champions when its said and done because they were true and had heart. Each one of those guys would rather kill you than let you even score, let alone take a championship from them. LeTinman doesnt have that in him and would rather be friends w other players on the court and dap it up and play you score and then let me score. Hey fuckstick, no one else is like that, this isnt your high school camp where players need to kiss your ass. NBA players don't care who you think you are, they're pros too, stupid.
In closing, I love the Cavs more now than ever. They need us. There will be a huge hole for a while where Bron was and we are going to struggle for a minute. Thats ok, we're Cleveland and we've been through this before. To quote my loving mother, "LeBron James should burn in hell......Laces out". Thank you, mom. Any combination of sports and Ace Ventura can never be bad, even if they don't match. Suck it Bron.
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