This is going to be a regular feature in which I name five things I hate, and why. I hate a lot of things, so this shouldn't be difficult.
People Who Don't Make Right Turns On Red
Seriously, what the hell is wrong with these people? There is a valid reason for making a right hand turn on red, and usually it involves "traffic flow". I am fine with people who aren't risk takers at lights, that's fine. But the people who sit there when no one is coming for miles should be kicked out of the country. Every time, this happens I want to yell "You inconsiderate prick, get the fuck out of the way" out the window. Are these people oblivious to the written law that says they can make right turns on red? Are they admiring the lovely traffic light scenery? Do they just not give a fuck?
The worst part is this is always the same person who is driving comfortably below the speed limit, so you know this is going to be a problem when you get to the light. You'd think knowing this would make me less angry when the act occurs, but for some reason it just pisses me off more.
They are also usually related to...
People Who Stop Where There Isn't a Stop Sign
This is an action mostly seen in shopping centers. Most shopping centers don't have stop signs when you enter them, because they want you to get in there faster (fucking marketing geniuses, these developers). This of course doesn't stop fucking idiots from stopping when they get to the first intersection of said shopping center. It usually leads to people at actual stop signs staring confused at the idiot who is randomly stopped. It also usually leads to the person behind said idiot to have to slam on their breaks because they didn't expect to have to randomly stop where there ISN'T A STOP SIGN.
Of course, after the stare down, someone has to go. If this goes according to the idiot who has stopped for no reason's apparent plan, everyone will try to go at the same time. Realizing this, everyone will then stop. Again. And stare at each other for a few seconds trying to figure out what to do. Again. These people should also all be deported.
Lazy Journalists and the Snowball Santa Story
If you google "santa snowball" (get your minds out of the gutters. fucking perverts) you don't get stories about the demon holiday or winter or Santa Claus. You get a story about Eagles fans throwing snowballs at Santa Claus. Fortunately, it is one that explains the stupidity of the whole thing. Long story short: it happened it 1968, there is a back story to it, we should stop talking about things that happened 40 years ago. But if you are a hack sportswriter/caster, you feel the fucking need to resuscitate this story as much as possible because you suck at your job and have nothing else to talk about.
This is as good a place as any to explain my theory on this. I have attended sporting events in many places in this country. I used to work game day security for the Eagles, so I have met a lot of fans from across the country. What I learned is that there is "Northeast fans" and there is everyone else. People from Boston, New York and Philly take this sports thing a bit more serious than everyone else. Maybe it has something to do with familial roots or population density, but there is a bit more "passion" from those fan bases than most anywhere else. And if you really wanted to, you could find examples of shitty behavior from Bostonians and New Yorkers at sporting events. You just don't hear it repeated as much, and I think part of that is that ESPN employees are stationed in New England and most major media publications come out of New York.
Don't get me wrong, I am not excusing what some assholes do. The flares at the Vet? Yeah, that guy is a douche. But the Capitals have now had incidents in consecutive years in the first round of the NHL playoffs with fan behavior, and no one really seems to give a shit. If that happened here, holy shit every news outlet in the country would be invading.
I am going to douse some myths here:
1. There is no prison at the Linc. There used to be one at the Vet after the flare incident, but that was not brought over from across the street.
2. We weren't booing Michael Irvin. We were booing Deion Sanders doing a healing dance around Michael Irvin. Big difference.
3. You don't immediately get beat up if you're opposing fan. If you aren't a douche, you will be fine. If you're a douche, all bets are off. I have been to Giants Stadium twice. Once we we're fine. The other was an 8 PM start and we got real drunk. We were douches, and someone threw a bottle at us. It happens.
When there is millions of people who all have an interest in something, a few are going to be real assholes. Just look at political parties. Are some Philadelphia fans assholes? Sure, but most of those people are too young to have thrown snowballs at Santa. Stop bringing it up, you fucking hacks.
(Ed. Note: I will say that Phillies/Mets games the past few seasons are kind of an exception to all this. The asshole quotient goes through the roof on both sides. Mets fans seem to go to CBP with the intent of getting into a fight, and I have heard the same thing happens in reverse. I think it has something to do with drinking in the heat. And high school kids drinking, because lets not kid ourselves: no one is a bigger douche than a drunk high school kid. These games are way worse than any other event I have been to, and that includes Eagles/Dallas games and Flyers/Penguins playoff games. Also, the Mets suck.)
Nancy Grace
What a C U Next Tuesday Nancy Grace is. For those that don't know Ms. Grace, she hosts a show on Headline News sensationalizing news stories. She in particularly loves a good "white girl gets kidnapped" story. That is when the dollar signs really show up in her eyes. She will have every family member, friend, acquaintance, former soccer coach, or townsperson of the kidnapped on her show.
I feel for these people, obviously. Something awful has happened. But our girl Nance is clearly just trying to make money off of these people's suffering. It is fucking awful, and pretty damn blatant if you ever really pay attention to. She has these wild eyes and she yells a lot and she makes wild claims and accusations. It is unsettling.
She often likes to point out that she was a prosecutor. And she was. What she usually fails to mention is that on her way out, the Georgia Supreme Court chided her for "inappropriate and illegal conduct in the course of the trial." A United States Court of Appeals called her ethics "fast and loose". Basically, she cheated. She would withhold evidence and on occasion do things she would surely have an on air hissy fit about if other people were caught doing.
Things like that are how prosecutors become the equivalent of lawyers chasing ambulances. She is a TV host chasing kidnappings. I bet she doesn't make right hand turns on red, either.
Radical Temperature Changes
What are the high temps in Philadelphia the past ten days, you ask?
51
68
55
70
73
88
92
90
87
73
What. The. Fuck. Tomorrow is supposed to be only 66. There is a 41 degree swing in there, including daily changes of +17, +15 (twice), -14, and -13. I know spring has crazy weather, but we almost had a fucking heat wave in April. More people are going to get sick from this than pig aids, but I don't see anyone freaking out over it.
My personal favorite day was the 24th, when the high was 73 and the low was 39. On an average spring day, that is like getting on a plane in Atlanta and landing in Anchorage.
I don't know how to blame for this, but my main suspect is the guy who created fluorocarbons. I don't know who he is, but I bet he is a real jerkoff. And really rich.
4/27/09
Musings...
I hate doing this, because I think it's pretty lame, but I have some salient points to make. Also, people keep bitching that I haven't updated my blog. I can't believe people are reading this thing. It is nice to know that even people with jobs are as bored as I am.
-The main purpose of this is a record that Tim told Rush that he would dress as Macho Man Randy Savage to the game if Macho Harris ever starts a home game for the Eagles. Seriously, that is the main reason I am writing this post. It had to be placed in perpetuity somewhere. I think we have all become gigantic Macho fans now, no?
-I also needed to display my anger about something. Tom McCarthy, go fuck yourself. Seriously, choke on your pregame Krispy Kreme and go away. After an Elijah Dukes home run onto Ashburn Alley tonight, Tommy MetsFan said, and I quote "He hit that one into Mike Piazza territory!". Are you fucking kidding me you douchebag? It is bad enough that he openly roots for the opposition most nights, but you are now naming parts of the ballpark after former Mets and homosexual icons? If the Phillies brass had any fucking brains, Franzke and LA would be on TV tomorrow and TMac will be sobbing somewhere in a local McDonald's, drowning his sorrows in McNuggets. Maybe Mike Piazza can stop by and cheer him up.
-I miss Harry.
-Tucci just turned one on Friday, and she is 68 pounds. What the fuck? The dog was 4 pounds when we got her. Christ. She is goddamned huge. She also eats sticks like they are candy. Mmm, roughage!
-Today I took upon myself to go the shore on a Monday and get my yearly spring sunburn. It is pretty bad, but the back of the knees are safe. Sorry to disappoint. I am alternating between shivering and overheating, so I got that going for me.
-Marty Biron, proving French Canadians never learned how to catch since 2009. Steve has always thought it was because they don't play baseball as kids. I think he is onto something. Related: Hey Carcillo, there is a reason they won't fight you when they are winning. Maybe you shouldn't fight when we are winning. He did beat his ass though, so that was fun.
-Only people between the ages of 22 and 55 should be able to drive. If you are outside of that age range, there is 90% chance you suck at driving. Also, if you are driving while inebriated, driving ten miles below the speed limit is way shadier than driving around the speed limit. You look like a fucking moron, and are causing traffic. Get off the goddamned road. Douchebags. Vick should have to constantly ride shotgun with me and ticket any person who annoys me on the road.
-What is more frustrating? Set over set on the flop or having two blackjack bets turn into nine bets and losing all nine? What if this happens an hour apart? I'll let you decide. FML.
-I was telling people the other day the Hornets quit on their coach. They won that day, and people questioned me. Today, the Hornets lost a home playoff game by FIFTY EIGHT POINTS. Blow me, they quit on their coach.
-If my recent job search has taught me anything, it is that I am really only qualified to sell insurance. This is disheartening because who isn't qualified to sell insurance, really? It is like the old saying "I wouldn't want to be a part of any club that would have me as a member", I am not sure I want any job I am qualified for. C'mon Powerball!
-That fucking Asher Roth song gets worse every fucking day. I like that he has a song on his album whining about people comparing him to Eminem, wittily called "As I Em". (Get it! Em! Like Eminem!) Stop complaining douchebag, at least people aren't comparing you to Vanilla Ice.
-I mostly read Pitchfork just so I can disagree with it, but they rated Asher's album 2.4/10. That sounds right. However without Pitchfork I wouldn't know that Clipse and Kanye just came out with a track (They gave it a 7, btw). Where else can you find out that and about MGMT settling their differences with the French government in just seconds? God bless the interwebz and uppity internet music journalists(?).
-The Phillies pitching sucks worse than having to go to work/school on a 90 degree day in April. (suckers).
-Kenny Smith is currently playing with one of those electronic boards in which the host can move images with his finger. Is this really fucking necessary for basketball halftime shows? Was it really fucking necessary to give Michael Smith one for the draft? We get it, CNN had a cool board on election night. Even that was unnecessary. Sportscasters don't fucking need one.
-You know what's awesome? Mayo. If you disagree, I think you are an unrefined imbecile that probably likes Asher Roth.
-The Quizno's commercial in which it is suggested that the guy is having sexual relations with the oven while making "torpedoes"...a bit much, no?
-After 25 years of being angry, I have really mellowed lately after starting this blog so I could bitch about things. Fuck that. The only logic I can see about God is that he must exist, cause why else would I constantly get fucked over by things like this. Fuck.
-I almost just wrote the phrase, "be being". That can't be right, right? Right.
-If you spell check on this thing, it says "internet" is wrong. They say it should be capitalized. Self important assholes.
-I enjoy the Blackhawks radically insensitive logo. Good for them, and screw Canada. I mean, really, what has Canada ever done for me. Provided cold fronts? Kept Sarah Palin at bay? The only good things I have ever heard about Canada is that it is nicer than Detroit. No shit. Chernobyl is nicer than Detroit, too, but they aren't bragging.
-TNT is using the header "Win or go home" for this Lakers broadcast. If the Lakers win, they stay home. But if they lose, they have to go away. That header is misleading. Maybe if they didn't spend so much of Ted Fucking Turner's money on giving Kenny Smith interactive TV screens, they could hire someone to notice these things. (I'm available, if necessary!)
-Dear HBO, stop showing the Sex and the City Movie 24 hours a day. WHY IS THAT MOVIE TWO AND HALF HOURS LONG? WHAT THE FUCK? The one's a whore, the one's a prude, the one's a bitter angry woman, and the lead is a whiny little fucker who looks like a foot. Why does this take 150 minutes to sort out?
-Put a price, Put a price on my soul....Find a cure, Find a cure for my life
-I really do love female British pop singers. Which is odd because I really hate British people. Pompous fucks. (Ed. Note: I have never actually met a British person. I don't think they travel to Philly too much. Bad memories of getting their asses kicked. TAKE THAT BRITS. AMERICA, FUCK YEAH. They would rather go to Canada where those brown nosing Canucks let the Brits rule them until like 2002.)
-That was a great few sentences full of international stereotypes. Snobby Brits? Abrasive Americans? Worthless Canadians? We got it all. I don't know if worthless Canadian is really a stereotype. If not, I think we should make it one. This is the kind of thing I envisioned for this blog. Demeaning mass groups of people I know nothing about, and mocking their made up shortcomings.
-I really think this entire entry is pretty fucking shitty. Maybe if I keep writing my mental diarrhea you people will stop asking me to update my blog. As you may or may not know, when people tell me to do something it makes me less likely to do it. I have the same attitude as the average seven year old. In fairness, I am real light headed and dehydrated from the sunburn. I would say I'll try harder in the future, but let's be honest.....that'd be a lie.
-The main purpose of this is a record that Tim told Rush that he would dress as Macho Man Randy Savage to the game if Macho Harris ever starts a home game for the Eagles. Seriously, that is the main reason I am writing this post. It had to be placed in perpetuity somewhere. I think we have all become gigantic Macho fans now, no?
-I also needed to display my anger about something. Tom McCarthy, go fuck yourself. Seriously, choke on your pregame Krispy Kreme and go away. After an Elijah Dukes home run onto Ashburn Alley tonight, Tommy MetsFan said, and I quote "He hit that one into Mike Piazza territory!". Are you fucking kidding me you douchebag? It is bad enough that he openly roots for the opposition most nights, but you are now naming parts of the ballpark after former Mets and homosexual icons? If the Phillies brass had any fucking brains, Franzke and LA would be on TV tomorrow and TMac will be sobbing somewhere in a local McDonald's, drowning his sorrows in McNuggets. Maybe Mike Piazza can stop by and cheer him up.
-I miss Harry.
-Tucci just turned one on Friday, and she is 68 pounds. What the fuck? The dog was 4 pounds when we got her. Christ. She is goddamned huge. She also eats sticks like they are candy. Mmm, roughage!
-Today I took upon myself to go the shore on a Monday and get my yearly spring sunburn. It is pretty bad, but the back of the knees are safe. Sorry to disappoint. I am alternating between shivering and overheating, so I got that going for me.
-Marty Biron, proving French Canadians never learned how to catch since 2009. Steve has always thought it was because they don't play baseball as kids. I think he is onto something. Related: Hey Carcillo, there is a reason they won't fight you when they are winning. Maybe you shouldn't fight when we are winning. He did beat his ass though, so that was fun.
-Only people between the ages of 22 and 55 should be able to drive. If you are outside of that age range, there is 90% chance you suck at driving. Also, if you are driving while inebriated, driving ten miles below the speed limit is way shadier than driving around the speed limit. You look like a fucking moron, and are causing traffic. Get off the goddamned road. Douchebags. Vick should have to constantly ride shotgun with me and ticket any person who annoys me on the road.
-What is more frustrating? Set over set on the flop or having two blackjack bets turn into nine bets and losing all nine? What if this happens an hour apart? I'll let you decide. FML.
-I was telling people the other day the Hornets quit on their coach. They won that day, and people questioned me. Today, the Hornets lost a home playoff game by FIFTY EIGHT POINTS. Blow me, they quit on their coach.
-If my recent job search has taught me anything, it is that I am really only qualified to sell insurance. This is disheartening because who isn't qualified to sell insurance, really? It is like the old saying "I wouldn't want to be a part of any club that would have me as a member", I am not sure I want any job I am qualified for. C'mon Powerball!
-That fucking Asher Roth song gets worse every fucking day. I like that he has a song on his album whining about people comparing him to Eminem, wittily called "As I Em". (Get it! Em! Like Eminem!) Stop complaining douchebag, at least people aren't comparing you to Vanilla Ice.
-I mostly read Pitchfork just so I can disagree with it, but they rated Asher's album 2.4/10. That sounds right. However without Pitchfork I wouldn't know that Clipse and Kanye just came out with a track (They gave it a 7, btw). Where else can you find out that and about MGMT settling their differences with the French government in just seconds? God bless the interwebz and uppity internet music journalists(?).
-The Phillies pitching sucks worse than having to go to work/school on a 90 degree day in April. (suckers).
-Kenny Smith is currently playing with one of those electronic boards in which the host can move images with his finger. Is this really fucking necessary for basketball halftime shows? Was it really fucking necessary to give Michael Smith one for the draft? We get it, CNN had a cool board on election night. Even that was unnecessary. Sportscasters don't fucking need one.
-You know what's awesome? Mayo. If you disagree, I think you are an unrefined imbecile that probably likes Asher Roth.
-The Quizno's commercial in which it is suggested that the guy is having sexual relations with the oven while making "torpedoes"...a bit much, no?
-After 25 years of being angry, I have really mellowed lately after starting this blog so I could bitch about things. Fuck that. The only logic I can see about God is that he must exist, cause why else would I constantly get fucked over by things like this. Fuck.
-I almost just wrote the phrase, "be being". That can't be right, right? Right.
-If you spell check on this thing, it says "internet" is wrong. They say it should be capitalized. Self important assholes.
-I enjoy the Blackhawks radically insensitive logo. Good for them, and screw Canada. I mean, really, what has Canada ever done for me. Provided cold fronts? Kept Sarah Palin at bay? The only good things I have ever heard about Canada is that it is nicer than Detroit. No shit. Chernobyl is nicer than Detroit, too, but they aren't bragging.
-TNT is using the header "Win or go home" for this Lakers broadcast. If the Lakers win, they stay home. But if they lose, they have to go away. That header is misleading. Maybe if they didn't spend so much of Ted Fucking Turner's money on giving Kenny Smith interactive TV screens, they could hire someone to notice these things. (I'm available, if necessary!)
-Dear HBO, stop showing the Sex and the City Movie 24 hours a day. WHY IS THAT MOVIE TWO AND HALF HOURS LONG? WHAT THE FUCK? The one's a whore, the one's a prude, the one's a bitter angry woman, and the lead is a whiny little fucker who looks like a foot. Why does this take 150 minutes to sort out?
-Put a price, Put a price on my soul....Find a cure, Find a cure for my life
-I really do love female British pop singers. Which is odd because I really hate British people. Pompous fucks. (Ed. Note: I have never actually met a British person. I don't think they travel to Philly too much. Bad memories of getting their asses kicked. TAKE THAT BRITS. AMERICA, FUCK YEAH. They would rather go to Canada where those brown nosing Canucks let the Brits rule them until like 2002.)
-That was a great few sentences full of international stereotypes. Snobby Brits? Abrasive Americans? Worthless Canadians? We got it all. I don't know if worthless Canadian is really a stereotype. If not, I think we should make it one. This is the kind of thing I envisioned for this blog. Demeaning mass groups of people I know nothing about, and mocking their made up shortcomings.
-I really think this entire entry is pretty fucking shitty. Maybe if I keep writing my mental diarrhea you people will stop asking me to update my blog. As you may or may not know, when people tell me to do something it makes me less likely to do it. I have the same attitude as the average seven year old. In fairness, I am real light headed and dehydrated from the sunburn. I would say I'll try harder in the future, but let's be honest.....that'd be a lie.
4/10/09
The Road to the Final Four
First, a mea culpa. I was terrible picking the tournament this year. My worst year in recent memory, which is funny because I watch more college basketball this year than ever before. I still finished in the 79% percentile on ESPN’s Tournament Challenge with those picks, which I think says more about the rest of the tournament picking public. Hooray for getting the obvious champion right!
Anyway, I haven’t written much lately mostly because I have been traveling the eastern half of the United States watching forty minutes of Villanova Basketball (copy write Jay Wright, 2001). Below are some thoughts and impressions on each stop, as well as the distance traveled in miles and minutes.
New York
Distance: Approx 95 miles from home to Matt and Ryan’s apartment. Two hours of trains each way.
Expectations are an interesting thing. Everyone always talks about how great hope is, but I say fuck hope. I want expectations. There was a long period of time that I would hope Villanova would simply be good enough to make the tournament, maybe play some meaningful games in March. Now it is not only expected to be playing important games this time of year, it is expected to win some. The expectations are better. It is probably not always fair to the players and coaches to feel this way, but I would bet even they would tell you it is better to have expectations of greatness than hopes of relevancy.
With that said, how different are expectations if Dwayne Anderson doesn’t make that layup to beat Marquette? We are probably not in Philly the first weekend. Probably a four seed, not a three seed. Which likely means playing UNC in the round of sixteen, not four. Making this probably just another Villanova Sweet 16 team (speaking of altered expectations…) instead of a perception altering team. We are now a Final Four program, partly because Reggie Redding found Dweeze in the final second. Since this team will ultimately be remembered for another basket in the final second, maybe this was just a harbinger of things to come.
NYC for the Big East Tourney is quickly becoming one of my favorite times of the year. It allows me the opportunity to drink in the afternoon, find new people I dislike (in this year’s case, the Louisville fan base), and then to drink even more that evening. This was a particularly alcoholic year, leading to Vick taking the 4:14 AM train home on consecutive nights.
We also hung out in the only naturally occurring cave in NYC Saturday night, and Vick loved it there.
Philadelphia
Distance: Approx 30 miles from my house to arena, 45 minutes both ways.
So, I gambled and bought tickets for the Saturday session in Philly assuming we would roll American. With 18 minutes left in the game, that did not look like a very good decision. That game was rather horrific, as well as being the only Villanova post season game I did not attend. And maybe that was for the best, because I was kind of a mess. It was nice knowing everyone else was equally as unnerved by this, judging by Meghan thinking she was such a curse a 100 miles from the arena as well as the dozens of texts I got.
As awful as that first 22 minutes were, the next 58 minutes played at Wachovia were just that dominating. UCLA could whine all they wanted about having to play in Philly (funny coming from a team who played at six pre Final Four sites the last three years: 5 in California, and one all the way out in Phoenix. Poor Bruins!) We would have won that game if it was played at Pauley Pavilion or anywhere else in the world.
The beating of UCLA was great not only for embarrassing UCLA on national television, but because it led to the nationally televised embarrassing of Duke. I thought if we beat UNC, our new slogan should have been “Fuck your tradition.”
Boston
Distance: There-Home->Manhattan->Boston Approx 300 miles and 7 hours
Back-Boston->Manhattan->Center City->West Chester->Home Approx 375 miles and 9 hours
Ed. Note: I was unable to sleep the night after the Pitt game and typed up this long, winding, sappy review of the entire weekend. It is probably pretty entertaining, and I will likely post it sometime in the next seven to ten days after I clean it up.
A few times while in Boston, Meghan referred to the weekend as “One of the best things I have ever done” or some variant of that. At the time, I wasn’t sure that I agreed with that. Reflecting back, I think that those four days in Boston encompassed an event and a feeling that I will likely—hopefully?—never again experience.
The weekend following Villanova advancing to the national semifinals for the first time in 24 years, I was encountered by three fan bases of huge public universities with gigantic athletic budgets that they used to retain or lure hall of fame, national championship winning coaches. Villanova spends its share on basketball, but not what UConn or Michigan State does, and barely in the same neighborhood of North Carolina. We are different, as some lovely Michiganders were not too shy to point out.
They, as programs and fan bases, expected to be there. They expected to be there in November. And January. And as I was running around NYC watching Dweeze beat Marquette. It would be a bit much to say a large portion of the Villanova fan base thought this was a Final Four team in November. Or January. Or as I was in NYC watching a double digit lead against Marquette slip away.
That lack of expectations, that feeling of being surprised at a group of players who seemingly outlasted every expectation, is a huge part of what made this so special.As great as expectations are, they change everything. Expecting to beat American did not lead to anywhere near the emotion hoping to beat Pitt did. It was unbridled, unquestioned joy. It was a different type of happiness than I had ever experienced, whether it be connected to a sports related event or anything else. It was overwhelming in every sense of the word. Now with a Final Four pedigree and monstrous amounts of talent coming in, expectations change. The second time will not feel like the first time.
I say it is a feeling that will hopefully never be duplicated for that reason. I want there to be a second time. And third. And tenth. But, from here on out, Villanova making a Final Four will (again, hopefully) never be such a shock, such an overwhelming experience. And that is a good thing, even if it isn’t as much fun.
Even if lofty expectations aren’t met, and we don’t get back here for another twenty years or so, I still can’t imagine that it can ever be the same. I won’t be twenty five. I find it hard to believe that it will be as easy to think that heading to Boston on a Thursday afternoon on a whim is a good idea, let alone convincing someone else to come along (thanks, Meg!). It is probably unreasonable to expect that wave of people to arrive on Saturday, almost in a mass cleansing for what happened when we were seniors in ’06. The opportunity to hear Jay speak in a room of alumni and students, with the chance to personally thank the players. There will not be the youthful exuberance of this. And it certainly won’t be the first time all over again. As Steve said, “I think if I ever make it to heaven, it’ll be the lobby of the Weston”.
In hindsight, Meghan was probably right. This was a perfect storm of events, and I will likely always remember it as one of the greatest things I was ever apart of. While I was driving around Manhattan waiting for her to finish work, I had The Hold Steady on the radio, mostly just as background noise. You know how sometimes things just jump out at you for no real reason? Well, the line “Let this be my annual reminder that we could all be something bigger” smacked me right in the face. It is funny to think about it now, because if this weekend wasn’t that step up into something bigger, I don’t know what is. In five seconds we went from a perennially strong program to a Final Four program. It happened in the blink of an eye really. Expectations got bigger, our profile got bigger, our coach got bigger. I just hope the next step is half as fun.
Detroit
Distance: There-Home->Trenton, NJ->Southfield, MI. Approx 630 miles and ten hours
Back- Southfield->Trenton->Home. Approx 630 miles and ten and a half hours.
We drove to Detroit at night. Leaving the Trenton train station around 11:30 and arriving in the Detroit suburbs at around 8:30 AM led to a lot of darkness in distance while commuting through Western PA.
Everything you heard about Detroit is pretty spot on. Pretty neat area around the stadiums, some casinos, and then a whole lot of abandoned buildings. We went to a McDonald’s across from the hotel when we got there because it was too early to check in. My total was like $4. 57. I gave the girl a five and she ran it through this machine to confirm it wasn’t counterfeit. Yeah.
Pregame we drank some, saw Will Sheridan and scalped some tickets. All around a good time.
Ford Field was nice, Michigan State fans were kind of jerkoffs, and we got to watch the Nova game from the 17th row off the floor. So that was nice. I would estimate the Spartan crowd at 45-50k for the semifinals. They were everywhere. I thought maybe the dome would temper some of the crowd noise, but it did none of the such.
The bar we went to post game had two different white Michigan State fans trying to “spit rhymes” over a beat. Apparently they all think they are Eminem or Kid Rock. It was pretty funny, however. We then proceeded to a diner where I got two Chili dogs for four bucks, and we think we saw a pimp come in with a couple of his hos at 3 AM. There was also Michigan State fans there who didn’t quite understand why Jay wouldn’t become the next coach at Memphis. Again…yeah.
However, I was glad I went. It was very cool atmosphere, and who knows when you’ll get to go to the Final Four again. As I told Matt and Meg, I have lots of crazy ideas but it can be difficult at times to find people who are willing to go along with them.
About those future expectations, early reports seem to suggest we will be preseason top 5 next year despite losing the team’s top scorer. No pressure, Let’s do it again.
It is better than hoping to be relevant though, isn't it?
Anyway, I haven’t written much lately mostly because I have been traveling the eastern half of the United States watching forty minutes of Villanova Basketball (copy write Jay Wright, 2001). Below are some thoughts and impressions on each stop, as well as the distance traveled in miles and minutes.
New York
Distance: Approx 95 miles from home to Matt and Ryan’s apartment. Two hours of trains each way.
Expectations are an interesting thing. Everyone always talks about how great hope is, but I say fuck hope. I want expectations. There was a long period of time that I would hope Villanova would simply be good enough to make the tournament, maybe play some meaningful games in March. Now it is not only expected to be playing important games this time of year, it is expected to win some. The expectations are better. It is probably not always fair to the players and coaches to feel this way, but I would bet even they would tell you it is better to have expectations of greatness than hopes of relevancy.
With that said, how different are expectations if Dwayne Anderson doesn’t make that layup to beat Marquette? We are probably not in Philly the first weekend. Probably a four seed, not a three seed. Which likely means playing UNC in the round of sixteen, not four. Making this probably just another Villanova Sweet 16 team (speaking of altered expectations…) instead of a perception altering team. We are now a Final Four program, partly because Reggie Redding found Dweeze in the final second. Since this team will ultimately be remembered for another basket in the final second, maybe this was just a harbinger of things to come.
NYC for the Big East Tourney is quickly becoming one of my favorite times of the year. It allows me the opportunity to drink in the afternoon, find new people I dislike (in this year’s case, the Louisville fan base), and then to drink even more that evening. This was a particularly alcoholic year, leading to Vick taking the 4:14 AM train home on consecutive nights.
We also hung out in the only naturally occurring cave in NYC Saturday night, and Vick loved it there.
Philadelphia
Distance: Approx 30 miles from my house to arena, 45 minutes both ways.
So, I gambled and bought tickets for the Saturday session in Philly assuming we would roll American. With 18 minutes left in the game, that did not look like a very good decision. That game was rather horrific, as well as being the only Villanova post season game I did not attend. And maybe that was for the best, because I was kind of a mess. It was nice knowing everyone else was equally as unnerved by this, judging by Meghan thinking she was such a curse a 100 miles from the arena as well as the dozens of texts I got.
As awful as that first 22 minutes were, the next 58 minutes played at Wachovia were just that dominating. UCLA could whine all they wanted about having to play in Philly (funny coming from a team who played at six pre Final Four sites the last three years: 5 in California, and one all the way out in Phoenix. Poor Bruins!) We would have won that game if it was played at Pauley Pavilion or anywhere else in the world.
The beating of UCLA was great not only for embarrassing UCLA on national television, but because it led to the nationally televised embarrassing of Duke. I thought if we beat UNC, our new slogan should have been “Fuck your tradition.”
Boston
Distance: There-Home->Manhattan->Boston Approx 300 miles and 7 hours
Back-Boston->Manhattan->Center City->West Chester->Home Approx 375 miles and 9 hours
Ed. Note: I was unable to sleep the night after the Pitt game and typed up this long, winding, sappy review of the entire weekend. It is probably pretty entertaining, and I will likely post it sometime in the next seven to ten days after I clean it up.
A few times while in Boston, Meghan referred to the weekend as “One of the best things I have ever done” or some variant of that. At the time, I wasn’t sure that I agreed with that. Reflecting back, I think that those four days in Boston encompassed an event and a feeling that I will likely—hopefully?—never again experience.
The weekend following Villanova advancing to the national semifinals for the first time in 24 years, I was encountered by three fan bases of huge public universities with gigantic athletic budgets that they used to retain or lure hall of fame, national championship winning coaches. Villanova spends its share on basketball, but not what UConn or Michigan State does, and barely in the same neighborhood of North Carolina. We are different, as some lovely Michiganders were not too shy to point out.
They, as programs and fan bases, expected to be there. They expected to be there in November. And January. And as I was running around NYC watching Dweeze beat Marquette. It would be a bit much to say a large portion of the Villanova fan base thought this was a Final Four team in November. Or January. Or as I was in NYC watching a double digit lead against Marquette slip away.
That lack of expectations, that feeling of being surprised at a group of players who seemingly outlasted every expectation, is a huge part of what made this so special.As great as expectations are, they change everything. Expecting to beat American did not lead to anywhere near the emotion hoping to beat Pitt did. It was unbridled, unquestioned joy. It was a different type of happiness than I had ever experienced, whether it be connected to a sports related event or anything else. It was overwhelming in every sense of the word. Now with a Final Four pedigree and monstrous amounts of talent coming in, expectations change. The second time will not feel like the first time.
I say it is a feeling that will hopefully never be duplicated for that reason. I want there to be a second time. And third. And tenth. But, from here on out, Villanova making a Final Four will (again, hopefully) never be such a shock, such an overwhelming experience. And that is a good thing, even if it isn’t as much fun.
Even if lofty expectations aren’t met, and we don’t get back here for another twenty years or so, I still can’t imagine that it can ever be the same. I won’t be twenty five. I find it hard to believe that it will be as easy to think that heading to Boston on a Thursday afternoon on a whim is a good idea, let alone convincing someone else to come along (thanks, Meg!). It is probably unreasonable to expect that wave of people to arrive on Saturday, almost in a mass cleansing for what happened when we were seniors in ’06. The opportunity to hear Jay speak in a room of alumni and students, with the chance to personally thank the players. There will not be the youthful exuberance of this. And it certainly won’t be the first time all over again. As Steve said, “I think if I ever make it to heaven, it’ll be the lobby of the Weston”.
In hindsight, Meghan was probably right. This was a perfect storm of events, and I will likely always remember it as one of the greatest things I was ever apart of. While I was driving around Manhattan waiting for her to finish work, I had The Hold Steady on the radio, mostly just as background noise. You know how sometimes things just jump out at you for no real reason? Well, the line “Let this be my annual reminder that we could all be something bigger” smacked me right in the face. It is funny to think about it now, because if this weekend wasn’t that step up into something bigger, I don’t know what is. In five seconds we went from a perennially strong program to a Final Four program. It happened in the blink of an eye really. Expectations got bigger, our profile got bigger, our coach got bigger. I just hope the next step is half as fun.
Detroit
Distance: There-Home->Trenton, NJ->Southfield, MI. Approx 630 miles and ten hours
Back- Southfield->Trenton->Home. Approx 630 miles and ten and a half hours.
We drove to Detroit at night. Leaving the Trenton train station around 11:30 and arriving in the Detroit suburbs at around 8:30 AM led to a lot of darkness in distance while commuting through Western PA.
Everything you heard about Detroit is pretty spot on. Pretty neat area around the stadiums, some casinos, and then a whole lot of abandoned buildings. We went to a McDonald’s across from the hotel when we got there because it was too early to check in. My total was like $4. 57. I gave the girl a five and she ran it through this machine to confirm it wasn’t counterfeit. Yeah.
Pregame we drank some, saw Will Sheridan and scalped some tickets. All around a good time.
Ford Field was nice, Michigan State fans were kind of jerkoffs, and we got to watch the Nova game from the 17th row off the floor. So that was nice. I would estimate the Spartan crowd at 45-50k for the semifinals. They were everywhere. I thought maybe the dome would temper some of the crowd noise, but it did none of the such.
The bar we went to post game had two different white Michigan State fans trying to “spit rhymes” over a beat. Apparently they all think they are Eminem or Kid Rock. It was pretty funny, however. We then proceeded to a diner where I got two Chili dogs for four bucks, and we think we saw a pimp come in with a couple of his hos at 3 AM. There was also Michigan State fans there who didn’t quite understand why Jay wouldn’t become the next coach at Memphis. Again…yeah.
However, I was glad I went. It was very cool atmosphere, and who knows when you’ll get to go to the Final Four again. As I told Matt and Meg, I have lots of crazy ideas but it can be difficult at times to find people who are willing to go along with them.
About those future expectations, early reports seem to suggest we will be preseason top 5 next year despite losing the team’s top scorer. No pressure, Let’s do it again.
It is better than hoping to be relevant though, isn't it?
ND and BO
//Politics and Religion, feel free to ignore....
Generally, I don't really care what people think or believe. You can believe that the world is going to end in 2012 because the Mayans say so if you really want as long as you keep it to yourself. But this is the part that most people with strong beliefs struggle with. They can't keep it to themselves. Or at least moderately sane. They have this intense desire to let everyone know what they think, and to tell you that you are a moron if you disagree with them.
Which leads me to Barack Obama and Notre Dame. Barack is scheduled to give the commencement speech at the university in May in what seems like a once in a lifetime opportunity for the graduates. How often do you get the opportunity to hear a sitting president speak, let alone one that even his greatest critics claim is an absurdly good speaker?
Of course, this has brought the hardcore Catholics out of the woodwork. Because everything brings the hardcore Catholics out of the woodwork. Going to Catholic school from pre school through college graduation I have seen this routine many times. You know what doesn't stop teenagers from having sex? Protesting Planned Parenthood. This just leads to them having unprotected sex, leading to unplanned pregnancies, which--on occasion--leads to worst of all Catholic crimes.
To be fair, I get the opposition to abortion. I see your point. I don't necessarily agree with it, but I understand where you are coming from. What I don't understand is why you think acting like you have just been released from an asylum is a good way to change people's minds. People tend to ignore the beliefs of people who do crazy things.
Anyway, back to BO and ND. Some fellow named Randall Terry, who proudly claims that he wanted to mail Bill Clinton a dead fetus, says he is going to make this a "circus". I am sure Bill would have saw that fetus and thought "maybe this guy sending dead fetuses (fetii?) through UPS is full of great ideas. I should listen to him." But, nah, probably not.
Our boy Randy has moved his entire family to South Bend in preparation for his circus. He is picketing in front of the Board of Trustees members' homes. Because, again, people tend to respect the opinions and ideals of people who harass them and their family. I think that is in John's Gospel, somewhere. He exults that he has garnered twenty whole volunteers to help him create his circus. (Hey Randy, more people than that want Charlie Weis gone. And if you think abortion is bigger than football at Notre Dame, you might be in for a rude awakening.)
I guess what pisses me off most about this is what it says about America and how politics are handled in this country. No longer do people want to sit down and discuss differences; we would rather just overnight a dead fetus. It is why nothing ever get accomplished around here besides needless vitriol and more anger on both sides. Because everyone has become fucking insane. There are millions of normal, sane, thoughtful pro life supporters out there. You never hear about them because Randy is the one getting AP stories written about him. It is why nothing ever changes.
All I am saying is that maybe the people at Notre Dame should enjoy the once in a lifetime opportunity. I don't think Barack is going to slaughter any kids during his speech, so no worries there. I was never a Bushie, but I wish he would have spoken at my Catholic university instead of Big Bird. Seriously, Big Bird spoke at one of our commencements. It probably doesn't help we chased away a pro-choice speaker years ago. It is a slippery slope. The leader of the free world is coming to your college graduation. Listen to him. You don't have to agree, but try to learn something. And for fuck's sake, don't throw fake blood on him or mail him a fetus. You just look like an insane person. Plus, it won't make him repeal abortion laws any time soon.
Generally, I don't really care what people think or believe. You can believe that the world is going to end in 2012 because the Mayans say so if you really want as long as you keep it to yourself. But this is the part that most people with strong beliefs struggle with. They can't keep it to themselves. Or at least moderately sane. They have this intense desire to let everyone know what they think, and to tell you that you are a moron if you disagree with them.
Which leads me to Barack Obama and Notre Dame. Barack is scheduled to give the commencement speech at the university in May in what seems like a once in a lifetime opportunity for the graduates. How often do you get the opportunity to hear a sitting president speak, let alone one that even his greatest critics claim is an absurdly good speaker?
Of course, this has brought the hardcore Catholics out of the woodwork. Because everything brings the hardcore Catholics out of the woodwork. Going to Catholic school from pre school through college graduation I have seen this routine many times. You know what doesn't stop teenagers from having sex? Protesting Planned Parenthood. This just leads to them having unprotected sex, leading to unplanned pregnancies, which--on occasion--leads to worst of all Catholic crimes.
To be fair, I get the opposition to abortion. I see your point. I don't necessarily agree with it, but I understand where you are coming from. What I don't understand is why you think acting like you have just been released from an asylum is a good way to change people's minds. People tend to ignore the beliefs of people who do crazy things.
Anyway, back to BO and ND. Some fellow named Randall Terry, who proudly claims that he wanted to mail Bill Clinton a dead fetus, says he is going to make this a "circus". I am sure Bill would have saw that fetus and thought "maybe this guy sending dead fetuses (fetii?) through UPS is full of great ideas. I should listen to him." But, nah, probably not.
Our boy Randy has moved his entire family to South Bend in preparation for his circus. He is picketing in front of the Board of Trustees members' homes. Because, again, people tend to respect the opinions and ideals of people who harass them and their family. I think that is in John's Gospel, somewhere. He exults that he has garnered twenty whole volunteers to help him create his circus. (Hey Randy, more people than that want Charlie Weis gone. And if you think abortion is bigger than football at Notre Dame, you might be in for a rude awakening.)
I guess what pisses me off most about this is what it says about America and how politics are handled in this country. No longer do people want to sit down and discuss differences; we would rather just overnight a dead fetus. It is why nothing ever get accomplished around here besides needless vitriol and more anger on both sides. Because everyone has become fucking insane. There are millions of normal, sane, thoughtful pro life supporters out there. You never hear about them because Randy is the one getting AP stories written about him. It is why nothing ever changes.
All I am saying is that maybe the people at Notre Dame should enjoy the once in a lifetime opportunity. I don't think Barack is going to slaughter any kids during his speech, so no worries there. I was never a Bushie, but I wish he would have spoken at my Catholic university instead of Big Bird. Seriously, Big Bird spoke at one of our commencements. It probably doesn't help we chased away a pro-choice speaker years ago. It is a slippery slope. The leader of the free world is coming to your college graduation. Listen to him. You don't have to agree, but try to learn something. And for fuck's sake, don't throw fake blood on him or mail him a fetus. You just look like an insane person. Plus, it won't make him repeal abortion laws any time soon.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)