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HOT SPORTS TAKES - A man who won't stand for the anthem is an act that we as Americans shouldn't stand for (1 Viewer)

I was really worried that LeBron throwing the HST world such a giant softball would throw this thread off it's game (either because it's too easy, or because it could take the focus off so many other topics that need hot knowledge dropped), but this thread has really met the challenge.

 
Today millions of Americans will watch the Belmont Stakes. A horse named California Chrome has a chance to win the Triple Crown, something that hasn't been accomplished in over three decades. Count me among those who will NOT be watching.

They say horse racing is the "sport of kings". That seems apropos when you think of medieval Europe and the kings who slaughtered millions of peasants. Confused?

I can assure you, I'm not horsing around.

Consider this: while those million-dollar thoroughbreds race around that track on Saturday, they could be feeding a whole starving village in Bangladesh. Or Ethiopia. Or Canada.

Gives a whole new meaning to the term "fast food".

It may sound taboo to us Americans, but in places like China and the UK, horsemeat is a delicacy. It's a quality source of protein that nourishes millions of people every day.

Think I'm joking? Neigh.

Sorry Corporate America, but I can't stomach this abomination you call sport and entertainment. According to UNICEF, all of the race horses in the US could feed every starving child in the world for a whole year. That's not speculation. That's not a laughing matter.

That's a horse of a different color.

So enjoy the race, America. You'll have to do so without me. I'll be helping to raise awareness of this issue at a local shelter here in Manhattan. We'll be serving up horse chowder, horse tacos, and horse salad sandwiches to the city's homeless, and handing out leaflets on the corner to passersby. Clearly raising awareness of this issue will have to happen at the grass-roots level. And I don't mean Kentucky bluegrass. Because horse racing is big in Kentucky.

I hope I've given you something to chew on.

 
Consider this: while those million-dollar thoroughbreds race around that track on Saturday, they could be feeding a whole starving village in Bangladesh. Or Ethiopia. Or Canada.

Gives a whole new meaning to the term "fast food".

It may sound taboo to us Americans, but in places like China and the UK, horsemeat is a delicacy. It's a quality source of protein that nourishes millions of people every day.

Think I'm joking? Neigh.
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:lmao: dying

Starting this thread is my greatest life accomplishment.

 
McGarnicle said:
Today millions of Americans will watch the Belmont Stakes. A horse named California Chrome has a chance to win the Triple Crown, something that hasn't been accomplished in over three decades. Count me among those who will NOT be watching.

They say horse racing is the "sport of kings". That seems apropos when you think of medieval Europe and the kings who slaughtered millions of peasants. Confused?

I can assure you, I'm not horsing around.

Consider this: while those million-dollar thoroughbreds race around that track on Saturday, they could be feeding a whole starving village in Bangladesh. Or Ethiopia. Or Canada.

Gives a whole new meaning to the term "fast food".

It may sound taboo to us Americans, but in places like China and the UK, horsemeat is a delicacy. It's a quality source of protein that nourishes millions of people every day.

Think I'm joking? Neigh.

Sorry Corporate America, but I can't stomach this abomination you call sport and entertainment. According to UNICEF, all of the race horses in the US could feed every starving child in the world for a whole year. That's not speculation. That's not a laughing matter.

That's a horse of a different color.

So enjoy the race, America. You'll have to do so without me. I'll be helping to raise awareness of this issue at a local shelter here in Manhattan. We'll be serving up horse chowder, horse tacos, and horse salad sandwiches to the city's homeless, and handing out leaflets on the corner to passersby. Clearly raising awareness of this issue will have to happen at the grass-roots level. And I don't mean Kentucky bluegrass. Because horse racing is big in Kentucky.

I hope I've given you something to chew on.
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:lmao: Never imagined I'd see a HST advocating eating horses. Maximum likes. Hot hot heat

 
How about an HST on HOT SPORTS TAKES? I'd do it myself, but I'd rather it was funny.

Be sure to work with a cooling tank though. Last thing we need in the FFA is a chain reaction.

 
randall146 said:
McGarnicle said:
Today millions of Americans will watch the Belmont Stakes. A horse named California Chrome has a chance to win the Triple Crown, something that hasn't been accomplished in over three decades. Count me among those who will NOT be watching.

They say horse racing is the "sport of kings". That seems apropos when you think of medieval Europe and the kings who slaughtered millions of peasants. Confused?

I can assure you, I'm not horsing around.

Consider this: while those million-dollar thoroughbreds race around that track on Saturday, they could be feeding a whole starving village in Bangladesh. Or Ethiopia. Or Canada.

Gives a whole new meaning to the term "fast food".

It may sound taboo to us Americans, but in places like China and the UK, horsemeat is a delicacy. It's a quality source of protein that nourishes millions of people every day.

Think I'm joking? Neigh.

Sorry Corporate America, but I can't stomach this abomination you call sport and entertainment. According to UNICEF, all of the race horses in the US could feed every starving child in the world for a whole year. That's not speculation. That's not a laughing matter.

That's a horse of a different color.

So enjoy the race, America. You'll have to do so without me. I'll be helping to raise awareness of this issue at a local shelter here in Manhattan. We'll be serving up horse chowder, horse tacos, and horse salad sandwiches to the city's homeless, and handing out leaflets on the corner to passersby. Clearly raising awareness of this issue will have to happen at the grass-roots level. And I don't mean Kentucky bluegrass. Because horse racing is big in Kentucky.

I hope I've given you something to chew on.
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:lmao: Never imagined I'd see a HST advocating eating horses. Maximum likes. Hot hot heat
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Jonathan Swift would have penned some pretty HOT takes.

 
Hot Take Saturday with Sheila Horevag

Under-sexed 40 somethings cringed recently when Pamela Anderson revealed a video now looking like one of Flavor Flav's old flames, than like a 90s bombshell that was a fantasy of many.

The decline of Pamela Anderson is not something unique to pop culture, baseball has someone going through a similar Brigitte Nielsen-like transformation and his name is Derek Jeter. Jeter enters Saturday's game versus the Royals hitting 60 points below his career average, and with just seven extra base hits in 2014. With Pamela we blame age and maybe too much Tommy Lee parties, with Derek we quietly accept his decline as graceful.

The Kansas City Royals gave Jeter a $10,000 BBQ grill, the Cleveland Indians gave him three scalps and a blanket without smallpox. At the same time Pamela Anderson gets an appearance front page tabloid magazine photos not wearing make-up, looking like she was addicted to more than just fame. For her growing old involves no grace, because at the end of the day it is a double standard for men and women in America.

When Derek Jeter beds yet another supermodel, we clap and nod our heads in agreement. When Pam Anderson gets divorced again, we tremble in the fetal position wondering how she has so thoroughly destroyed her life.

They both peaked in the 1990s, but they both have generally been paid too much money for their skill sets that have never exactly been elite.

Jeter is 58th all-time in WAR, that trails Paul Molitor who mostly DHed and Lou Whitaker who is best known for his forgetting his jersey at the all-star game. Derek Jeter was paid $34,000 per at bat in 2010, it took Lou Whitaker three weeks to make that in his final season.

Pamela Anderson starred in such cinematic treasures as Barbed Wire and Naked Souls while getting $60,000 for every episode of the Emmy-winning thriller Baywatch. Bill Murray made $9000 for Rushmore, Pamela Anderson could make that with just one photo in her heyday.

The point is as Pam's looks went, so did her career and image. When Derek Jeter can't hit a little ball anymore he's stately and refined, an example to the game and to humanity. Everyone wants to be Derek Jeter, teams are fawning over him in 2014 giving him new cars and all the fresh corn-on-the-cob he can eat in a lifetime. Pamela Anderson gets a front page, above the fold picture of her looking less than attractive.

Until this double standard ceases to exist we will be destined to embrace a culture that rewards mediocrity for men, and blasts the same levels for women. I for one will pass on the Derek Jeter farewell tour as he is showered with gifts and praise for hitting a ball by the pitcher and into center field 3000 times.

As a woman and a baseball fan I must, because felt hats from pimps outside US Cellular in Chicago should be shared by both Pam Anderson and Derek Jeter, otherwise we as a society are failing each other. We should recognize centerfolds and center infielders the same, hold them in the same regard for their good times and bad. I have no problem with fans cherishing things, but understand what your confetti and over-priced trinkets do to maintaining equal rights among the sexes. If you don't your daughters will be treated like all those girls in India.

-Sheila Horevag is a columnist with the Sacramento Bee and an entertainment reporter for Women's Journal Weekly

 
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For as long as he could remember, he wanted to become a doctor.

He loved sports, but doctors were always his heroes. Around the middle of his sophomore year in high school, he decided he wanted to become an orthopedic surgeon — no doubt due to his love of sports, especially basketball. But his underfunded local public high school in Asheville couldn't afford to offer the advanced science classes he needed to pursue his dream. So when the opportunity arose to transfer to New Hampton, a prestigious prep school in New Hampshire, he jumped at the chance to explore in modern science labs and continue playing basketball.

Even though he came from a nowhere town with little money, he rose to the occasion and made the honor roll at New Hampton. His scoring on both the ACT and the basketball court drew attention from major colleges. Yale expressed interest, and he found he didn't mind New England weather. He could major in biology there, then go on to medical school. It would be a dream come true for young Rashad McCants.

Then Rashad met Matt Doherty, the head men's basketball coach at the University of North Carolina. Doherty couldn't promise admission to Yale, but Yale's couldn't offer a free college education. Doherty could at UNC. It was perfect. Rashad would get to play college basketball with his friends Sean May and Raymond Felton, be closer to his childhood home, still major in biology, and go on to medical school with a little less debt and a little more fame.

But as we know, college basketball is a business that happens to be attached to colleges. And after Rashad's freshman year at UNC, molder-of-men Matt Doherty was out maker-of-money Roy Williams was in. Roy Williams has never paid much attention to the "student" part of "student-athlete". Instead of being enrolled in honors courses and the lab sciences he would need for admission to medical school, Rashad found himself enrolled in courses that demanded neither class attendance nor study. When he protested to the coaching staff and academic advisers that his college years were being wasted and that he wasn't being prepared for medical school, they laughed at him. The only thing Rashad learned was what a cold-hearted business high-level sports can be.

Disgusted with the process, Rashad left UNC after his junior year. He didn't want to go through another charade of a basketball scholarship, and Yale wouldn't accept all his no-show class as transfer credits. So he took a job in the only skill UNC and Roy Williams prepared him for: the NBA.

These days, Rashad tries not to ask the "what if...?" questions too often. What if he had gone to Yale instead of UNC? What if Matt Doherty hadn't been forced out? What if the world had let him become the next Peter Benton instead of the next Richie Frahm? What if he had never dated a Kardashian? What if he wasn't yet another failed athlete whose happiest, most glorious days are already behind him?

Roy Williams, here's the thing: you won a few more basketball games because of Rashad McCants and put a few more butts in the seats at the Dean Dome, but you might have cost us the world's next great surgeon. You owe us, sir. You owe us.

 
Today, the nation tuned in to see if a 3 year-old world-class athlete could make history. No, not your nephew and his tee-ball skills that your brother won't stop talking about, but California Chrome, the horse that has been doing its best Cinderella impression over the last few weeks as he's taken down the Kentucky Derby and the Preakness Stakes, capturing the imagination of the nation (as well as some of their pocketbooks).

Yet today, at the Belmont, the clock struck midnight and this horse turned into a pumpkin. Never really in contention, California Chrome failed to capture the Triple Crown, failing to rise to the moment as he lagged down the backstretch, letting three far-less heralded horses (Tonalist?) cross the finish line ahead of him.

Another year, another horse that could avoid choking when push came to shove. With so many years having passed without a Triple Crown winner, it makes you wonder...should we care about horses? Do they care about us? Should we even care if a horse can deliver a moment of sporting brilliance?

Compare California Chrome to Derek Jeter, who continues to put in quality year after year manning the area between 2nd and 3rd in the Bronx. Yes, he might not have the same pop in his bat, but he's risen to the occasion more times than we can count, and there's still some of that magic left in his bat and glove.

A horse is a horse...of course. But Jeter is immortal.

 
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Aaron Rudnicki said:
Cali Chrome's owner dropped a scalding hot take after the race today.
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SCALDING! Indeed.
"These people nominate their horses for the Triple Crown and then they hold out two [races] and then come back and run one... that would be like me at 6'2" playing basketball with a kid in a wheelchair. They haven't done anything with their horses in the Triple Crown. There were three horses in this race that ran in the first two -- California Chrome, Ride on Curlin and General A Rod -- none of the other horses did. You figure out. You ask yourself, 'Would it be fair if I played basketball with a child in a wheelchair?... Is it fair for them to hold their horses back?"
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Damn. Everybody is on LeBron's nuts over this cramping thing.

 
Johnny Manziel was drafted by the Cleveland Browns back in early May. Almost immediately, he was dubbed "Johnny ####### Football" even though he had yet to sign a contract or take a snap in anything close to anger. He is quite possibly Cleveland's favorite athlete right now. Cleveland-area kids getting their high school diplomas are doing his money gesture as they get their diplomas. Even the fact that his first pitch at an Indians game got cancelled created a media frenzy. And that's part of the problem.

Oh, what, Browns fan? You didn't think this column was about you? Did you? Did you?

The sad fact is that Cleveland aches for a champion. The Indians have been losers since 1948 and lack the charm and awe-shucks bumbling of the Cubs. The Browns' drought has been self-inflicted (Ernest Byner, Brian Sipe) as well as being had (The Drive). Even Cavs fans have little more than the mid-70s "Miracle at Richfield" and a LeBron James-led Finals appearance to reminisce about. Even "The Shot" leaves a mark; but at least Craig Ehlo gets the benefit of the doubt as everyone would get deked by MJ.

As a result, Cleveland fans of any stripe will latch onto anyone who holds the promise of leading them to the Promised Land. The current holder of Cleveland Sports Messiah is Johnny Manziel. God pity him. When photos of his partying like this and this to find its way into the social media of Browns fans, the fans are split into two camps: it's "WHY ISN'T HE LEARNING THE PLAYBOOK?" vs. "HE'S JUST A KID LET HIM PARTY!" Even though the Indians are making another half-hearted run for a division title, the fight on social media is whether or not JFF is ready for the NFL considering he likes to have a drink or twenty.

The fact of the matter is, no matter what side of the Manziel debate Cleveland fans are on, if he doesn't throw for 250 yards and 3 TDs against the Steelers in Week 1, he will be crucified. Worse yet, if the Steelers end up sacking him 4 or 5 times and picking him off a couple of times, both sides will turn on him with a fury usually reserved for scorned women. The partying will be brought up again and used as a cudgel to figuratively beat him. "He should have spent more time in the playbook!" and "He parties too much!" will be the refrain from both sides of this debate. The fact of the matter is that anyone who has not been to a few parties in their late teens/early 20s is a liar. Plus, if you're expecting a kid with two years as quarterback at Texas A&M to do much of anything this year, I would like some of what you're drinking/smoking.

Given the fact that everyone except my brother-in-law has quarterbacked the Browns since their rebirth, it is understandable why fans are a lot sensitive about the revolving door behind center. However, to place your hopes and dreams on kid who still cannot rent a car is a little much. Let him learn the game, take his game up to the next level, and all that other macho football :bs: that comes with playing on Sundays.

Most of all, for Heaven's sake, let him be a kid.

 
I held this take up to my hot tub. James Brown could only dip one toe into it before recoiling in screaming pain.

And then we all went back in time.

 
Over 20 million viewers tuned in to the Belmont Stakes yesterday, and many were watching for one reason…to watch California Chrome make a run at the Triple Crown. California Chrome ran out of gas down the stretch, and then millions watched his owner rant about how it wasn’t fair for the other horses to skip races.

Well, I’ve got news for you, folks. He was right.

In what other sport would we allow athletes to choose which events they would like to compete in? I’m sure Peyton Manning and the Broncos would’ve liked to skip the playoffs and go in fresh vs. the Seahawks in the Super Bowl, but they didn’t have that luxury. And speaking of the Broncos and Seahawks, they did get an extra week of rest for the playoffs, but the difference is that they earned it…by winning.

In this system, the winners are effectively punished with the false hope of winning a Triple Crown. They train hard and compete in all three big races, just to get beaten by some fresh horse named Tonalist. “A cowards way out”, indeed.

In the 1970’s, there were three Triple Crown winners. Think about that…three of the ten years in the 1970’s had Triple Crown winners and it hasn’t been done since then. The question is, “what has changed?”

I think we both know the answer.

Would it have made a difference if all horses were required to run all three races? There’s no way to know, and that’s the problem. We were robbed of the opportunity to know. California Chrome may have been destined to be the next Triple Crown winner.

Our nation may have lost a piece of history yesterday, but I guess we will never know.

 
Do you know who the worst fans in sports are? That's right, soccer fans. Americans are constantly scolded by these self-appointed sports guardians that they are missing out on THE BEAUTIFUL GAME. Their fervor is matched only by southern tent revivals; these evangelists of sports minimalism regale us with the glories of the game and how we are woefully out of step with the world's population. If only we could join our brothers in sports and kick around a ball (yet not be allowed to touch it with our hands!) we could finally realize Utopia on Earth.

I say, hogwash.

You see, beyond the crazy rules, the incessant flopping, and the insistence that no goals scored is "nil" rather than zero or nothing, there's something else at play. It is the arrogance and the condescension that comes with the game. The arrogance even goes to (in fact, is embodied by) its governing body, FIFA. This is a group of individuals so corrupt that they sell their votes for awarding venues to their quadrennial event, the World Cup.

Nobody with a sense of decency would award their 2022 competition to Qatar ("a country without a conscience"), a nation where - at present - slave labor is dying on an almost daily basis and whose general record on human rights is just above that of the old Soviet Union. Oh, and did I mention that in the summer it gets to be about 125 degrees? When Robbie Keane #####es about playing on a 90 degree day in Chicago, what's he going to say about playing under Allah's watchful eyes during a Persian Gulf summer?

You see, FIFA couldn't be bothered with either the logistics or the optics of playing in a Middle Eastern country with a lousy human rights record because they were too busy lining their pockets with Qatar's oil money. If these guys were American politicians, Americans would be screaming bloody murder. But, since bribery, extortion and sleight-of-hand is part of soccer's stock and trade, nobody says much of anything.

Even this year's event in Brazil is shrouded in controversy. Protesters rightfully decry the expenditure of billions on the World Cup this year as well as the Olympics two years from now. Yet, FIFA sweeps all of this aside with bread and circus antics like this and this. A nation like Brazil can barely get out of its own way is asked to pony up billions that they do not have to provide for some of the world's 1 percenters with posh luxury hotels and exotic suites to watch a bunch of men kick around a ball. Gee, Mr. Blatter, be careful you don't spill brie on that Armani suit of yours.

The "beautiful game"? Not after you take off the mask it isn't.

 
When I put my kids down for bed tonight, I will have to have a talk with my children that I am not looking forward to right now. It will be a talk that I'm not currently prepared for, and have to turn to you, my readers, for help. My entire family was subjected to an unnatural act on live TV, and I'm outraged.

Of course I'm talking about the live video feed of Michael Sam being drafted on ESPN. You see, good people, I have no problem with young Michael Sam. What a man chooses to do in the privacy of his own home is entirely up to him. So long as he knows he will spend eternity in hell. (Leviticus 7-12) My problem is not with him or the cabana boy that co-starred in their own love story on national TV. No, my problem is with my own people, the media.

Why did we have to air these two love birds on TV? Some of us are trying to raise a God fearing family. My wife and I keep the parental guide set to PG. So imagine my surprise when I walked in on my sons watching a "tweener" black man deeply kissing a very young petite white boy. Was that boy even of age? I don't know and I feel dirty for even thinking it, but I know how they are with these things. I quickly changed the channel but my young impressionable boys began asking questions.

"Dad, why were those two guys kissing?"

I didn't know what to tell him but with my quick wit and extensive knowledge of the Bible, I did my best. I told them that sometimes people do the wrong thing, and just because they do these things doesn't make them bad people.

Thanks ESPN, I had to lie to my kids. Of course it makes them bad people: "He who does bad things is bad and shall be shunned." (Abraham 5-9) However it didn't stop there.

"Dad, why was he so much bigger than the other guy?"

This one was a bit tougher but thankfully I had done hundreds of hours of NFL Draft research. (Click here for my draft grades www.TheWBC.com/draftgrades) I told them that NFL scouts thought Michael Sam was too small to play in the NFL and he was trying to show everyone that he was bigger than most guys.

Thanks to my sports knowledge I was able to avoid a very awkward question. However after talking to my wife I need to come clean and not lie to my kids so I have to talk to them tonight. So I sat down and watched the rest of the video by myself at my computer. I endured the cake smashing and swooning of that powerful man. I watched every last second, once in slow motion to make sure I had every detail right. I did it for my family, I did it for my kids.

So thank you, ESPN. Thank you media whores. Thank you left wing media. You may have won the ratings game this weekend. But at what cost? Your morals? Your soul? Your children's souls? Think about that one.

"What does it profit a man to gain the world, and go to hell when he dies." (John 13-19)

 
You may have heard recently that Johnny Manziel was drafted. In case you missed the fine print it was by the San Diego Padres in the 28th round of the Major League Baseball draft. Johnny Baseball. Didnt you know he was listed as a SS by his college team, Texas A&M? He never once played for them however, and the last time he played was in High School.

But that didn't matter to them, either he was going to give this small market team a few headlines or maybe they believed he would so gloriously flame out of the NFL that they could entice him to play for them.

The question is though, are the Padres such a stacked team with a deep minor league system that can afford to take that chance? Or maybe this is an example of a league having too many rounds that teams just have to find someone to select at some point.

At least at the end of the day, Johnny has options. Because thats whats important. Johnny effing whateversport will go on!

 
I thought we were going to be treated to HOT :pics: up in here...

:kicksrock:

 
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OK, Spurs fans, where are you now? All y'all Spurs fans tough guys who bragged about working out and not getting cramps; where are you?

You know what's easier than working out and avoiding cramps? Shooting free throws.

You know who can't shoot free throws? Your San Antonio Spurs.

You know who can shoot throws? Anybody.

The history of the NBA is filled with change: the court is bigger, the lane is wider, the season is longer, the players are faster, the shot clock and 3-point shot were added... you get the idea.

You know what hasn't changed? Free throws. Still 15 feet. Still one point per shot.

Your Spurs, .785 from the line on the season, were .600 from the line in Game 2. Six out of ten?!? I can't dunk, rebound, block shots, or even defend a pick-and-roll, but I can make six out of ten free throws. I'll go out to my driveway right now to prove it.

You Spurs fans buried LeBron James deep within the Earth for cramps in game conditions that never should have existed. Yet not a peep about your Spurs forgetting how to shoot the same unguarded 15-footers they are been shooting since they were twelve years old.

Your team had to break the air conditioning to win Game 1. And then your team nearly broke the backboard trying to make free throws down the stretch in Game 2. Made Nick Anderson look like Larry Bird.

Well, San Antonio, here's the thing: after Game 1, you proved you will never be a championship city. Now it looks like you won't even get that basketball championship.

 
10 THINGS I THINK I THINK

1. I think this is an underrated time of the sports calendar: NBA Finals, Stanley Cup Finals, last leg of the Triple Crown, the US Open, and reliable weather for Major League Baseball. This is one of those weeks where I feel lucky to get paid for what I do.

2. I think the old adage that a playoff series starts when the home team loses a game is spot-on. NBA and NHL finals: consider yourself in business. Spurs in 7. Kings in 6.

3. I think my favorite app to amuse me during pitching changes this week is Two Dots. It's a perfect hybrid of three longtime passions: spatial relations, mathematics, and field hockey. I hope someday I'm better at it than my daughter is already.

4. I think my body knows it's summer, because on my morning Starbucks jaunt my body isn't calling for hot coffee; it wants a Venti Valencia Orange Refresher. None of that hot stuff on these dog days of summer, give me some iced fruitiness with just a hint of coffee extract. Ahhhhh! It's a little more expensive than a standard-issue Starbucks cuppa joe, but I think I'm worth it.

5. I think if the Heat hang on and win the NBA Finals, we have to start entertaining the thought of LeBron James as a Hall of Famer. I know he's the epitome of style over substance, but I wouldn't be surprised if we see King James enshrined in Springfield someday.

6. I think it's impossible to look at shots of Pinehurst #2 and not think of the Kevin Costner sports comedy classic, Tin Cup. It's like they took everything awesome from Bull Durham and Caddyshack and mixed it all into one movie. It just doesn't get any better in sports filmdom than that final round between Costner as unlikely hero Roy "Tin Cup" McAvoy, the iconic Don Johnson as tour grinder David Simms, and real-life golf cut-up Peter Jacobsen as himself. When that movie starts on the Golf Channel, I'm unavailable for the next 2.5 hours. I'd love to talk about how it ends, but as the kids say today, "SPOILER ALERT!".

7. I think among all the beauty across all sport, there's nothing sexier than a false 9 removing his shirt in celebration after a goal in the World Cup. After all the sweating and grinding to finally put a ball deep in the netting, I think we all need the release of a world-class athlete showing off his finely-tuned, rock-hard abs.

8. I think Michael Wilbon would agree with me on number 7.

9. I think if you're not getting in on the ground floor of the next great AMC all-time great TV series "Halt And Catch Fire", you are dead to me for not properly recognizing art as it is being created. Seriously. F###. YOU. With Tin Cup's 7-iron.

10. I think it's almost game time somewhere. See you out on the field.

 
The Sizzler is doing some great work here, but can we expand past the Reilly and King takes. Maybe give me some schlocky, sentimental Mitch Albom? A little shrill Lupica? Some nice victim-blaming Jason Whitlock?

 
Ramsay Hunt Experience said:
The Sizzler is doing some great work here, but can we expand past the Reilly and King takes. Maybe give me some schlocky, sentimental Mitch Albom? A little shrill Lupica? Some nice victim-blaming Jason Whitlock?
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I'd like to make a specific request for an Albom take of a game that he actually did not attend.

 
In case you missed it, on Thursday Brazil and Croatia open the 2014 World Cup. You know, that once every four years event that lets the rest of the world tell us Americans we are lesser sports fanatics since we do not like the so called beautiful game. If it was truly so beautiful why do most of the games end with someone kissing their sister? And what is with the collared shirts? Is this a formal event?

When I was a kid, any cleats, sorry boots, had to be all black. The kids with the white shoes never got picked. Now there are a rainbow of colors across the teams footwear. GLAAD would be so proud.

Will I watch? probably not. Unless the US team manages to get to the finals. But even then and since our German coach has already said we won't be, I won't hold my breath. German coach? Since when do we trust them to lead our boys anywhere? Instead I will avoid all pubs and sports bars so I can avoid having to watch for hours to possibly see 1 goal scored followed by replay after replay of a grown man taking his shirt off and celebrating like he just won a billion dollars (or pounds or pesos, etc). Thank god ESPN will be spending their time talking about the NBA finals so I wont have to watch all the flopping going on in the World Cup. I just hope they don't ask Lebron his thoughts on it. At least we got to see his views on Maleficent. I just may go see it alone now, he gave me the courage!

But I digrest.

For all you normal people out there, now is the time to make sure you avoid all your soccer, sorry futbol, loving friends. If you thought they were bad before trying to rope you into their soccer lives, for the next month they will be unbearable.

 
I'm not perfect. No one is perfect. Everyone makes mistakes. I think you try to learn from those mistakes."

~Derek Sanderson Jeter

First, let's just get something out of the way right off the bat. Manny Machado is an otherworldly talent. He's a terror with the bat in his hands. And most importantly, he will never be half the ballplayer, or man, that Derek Jeter is.

Machado enjoyed a dynamite season in his first taste of full action last year, despite trailing off in the second half. But all he's done since is injure his knee and now he's acting like a petulant child. Actually wait, I said that wrong. He isn't acting.

When Josh Donaldson applied a fairly reasonable tag to Machado's torso over the weekend, nobody knew it would set up the A's and O's as the latest version of the Hatfields and the McCoys. It seemed fairly innocuous, but Machado reacted as if he had been shot - or worse. Of course, had Donaldson applied that same tag to Jeter's chest, it's probably Donaldson who would have come away injured. Why's that, you ask? Because he would have probably come in contact with Jeter's heart, something that is undefeated over these 20-something years.

For all of Machado's talent and, sadly, bravado, he hasn't done much to back it up. Jeter, in the twilight of his career, is still head and shoulders above the youngster who plays his games in a stadium that's a short 3-hour trip down the black dragon from Yankee Stadium. Yet the relative proximity of their stadiums only serves as a foil of just how far apart these two really are.

Jeter came up in a more innocent era. The Internet was still mostly in its infancy, and Google was something that meant a really large number. There wasn't so much puffed-up, "me-first-isms" (to coin a phrase that is sadly all too apropos). Jeter was a kid playing a man's game, and he played the part. He wasn't challenging veterans, catching an attitude, or preening around the field like he was the top dog. No, he let his play do that. He carried himself the way one would expect of someone with his upbringing. I mean this was a kid who famously once attended school...ON SENIOR CUT DAY!

I don't want to blame Machado's parents, because that would be the easy way out. But something, somewhere along the line went very wrong. Can Machado recover? Sure. Can his reputation be improved, if not restored? I suppose. But for a young kid like this, getting to watch Jeter's magical farewell tour around the league, and choosing to carry himself not with class, but like an ###? It's sad.

As Jeter said, nobody is perfect and everyone makes mistakes. It's up to Machado to learn from them. We've been there, done that with the whole "Manny being Manny" thing, and it wasn't pretty. And so I implore THIS Manny - it's up to you to learn from your mistakes. You've got a great role model in your very own division, if you'd only take the time to look. There are only a few months left to witness it.

 
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Cy Clark passed away last week. If you aren't a hockey fan or from Pittsburgh, chances are you didn't know Cy Clark. He was the last of a dying breed of sports fans; the Superfan. Clark lost his battle with lung and throat cancer, but not before he had made his mark among the many personalities in the NHL.

Clark, who was 53, had been a life-long Penguins fan, attending their first game in 1967. He had many friends in social media (myself included) as he went by the name "Malkamania" and dressed up as Hulk Hogan - originally as a joke for a Halloween costume contest at work. In fact, Hogan cut this promo for the Penguins as motivation based on a meeting he had with Clark.

He had many hockey jerseys, including his signature Malkamania, complete with black and gold feather boa, Fu Manchu moustache and bandana. He was noted for his signs as well as harrassing opposing players. This video of his interaction with the Flyers Scott Hartnell during the 2012 Stanley Cup playoffs garnered him hockey world fame. Even his jerseys attracted attention. Clark had an Islanders jersey with Rick DiPietro's number with the word FRAGILE in place of DiPietro's name. It was later presented to former Penguins goalie Brent Johnson at a 2011 autograph signing; Johnson had broken several bones in DiPietro's face during a February 2011 game in Long Island. Ironically, his last public act was getting thrown out of Consol Energy Center for holding up a large face of NBC Sports Network Pierre McGuire with his real name of Regis attached.

Sadly, there are getting to be fewer and fewer of these truly passionate fans. I grew up seeing such Superfans as the Orioles' Wild Bill Hagy and Ohio State's Neutron Man doing their best to entice their fellow fans to cheer and get loud for the home team. Some of lack of Superfans is due to these icons passing away. However, much of it is due to the corporatization of sporting events where the average fan cannot get a decent seat near the action to be able to muster any lasting enthusiasm from his fellow fans. The good seats are held for those who have the money to spend and the time to wine and dine their clientel with a ball game. Joe Sixpack is relegated to the upper deck from whence he can be seen and not very loudly heard. Even noted Washington Bullets/Wizards heckler Robin Ficker was relocated away from his seat behind the opposing bench when the team moved to Verizon Center in DC's Chinatown.

I can't help but wonder if the average fan is also to blame for the demise of Superfan. UC Irvine baseball Superfan Keith Franklin was effectively banned from home games because he failed to act "like an ordinary fan":

The rabid reaction came from Keith Franklin, known around UC Irvine as "Superfan." He has been a zany fixture at the team's Anteater Ballpark, often clawing the net behind home plate, since 2006. He has nicknames for the players, and knows their statistics and families as if they were his own.

Beyond his loud vocal stylings, Superfan is known for a repertoire of stadium theatrics. He has a special cheer for each batter, as well as for every run scored. He also celebrates with physical gusto, high-fiving people up and down rows of seats, even headbanging over the dugout. At dire moments when a run is sorely needed, he calls on the crowd to join him in breaking wind to spark a rally.
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Really? Is this what fandom has come to? Have we as Americans become that uptight about our fan experience that we can't tolerate ONE loud fan? We can politely applaud, maybe raise a cheer or two, but by golly don't do anything to get the crowd going. Sports can be considered dramatic, but that doesn't mean we have to put on airs and sit by and watch the game passively. You don't do it at home; why shouldn't you be able to do it at the park, arena or field? As long as your cheering isn't vulgar or sexually graphic, go ahead and dress crazy, paint your face and get loud.

Cy wouldn't have had it any other way.

 
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