Sportastic

It was a good sports weekend for those of us in the ANTA. On the baseball front the Cubbies got their comeuppance and the Triples (Devil Rays for you plebians, actually just the Rays now but whatthefuckever) looked good in the games at the Trop.

I have long tried to like the Triples and but could never quite muster up real affection for a team that had never been anywhere but a cellar dweller. Gnome, Kuro and myself even went to a game at the Trop a few years back. Beautiful looking from the outside but and absolute shithole on the interior. Why is baseball ever played inside? I can't even remember who they played but the concessions were nice. We even got to see a player hit a low wall at full speed trying to catch a popup and flip over the wall.

Even seeing a game wasn't enough to make me a fan. Gnome and I debated how to make the team interesting enough to follow. We agreed that a name change would do them good, but the name had to be something new and fresh (aka not the abortion which is the Oklahoma City Thunder). Hence the Triples were born. Named for the fact that Tampa Bay hosts the three cities of Tampa, St. Petersburg and Clearwater and that a triple is ya know, a baseball kinda thingee. So much better than the Twins, which I have on a good authority were named after gay porn.

I just thought the Triples wouldn't make a fan out of me playing in a division with the Yankees and the BoSox, whose combined bankrolls could be used in lieu of taxpayer money in the Bailout plan. But the Yankees didn't make the postseason proving that just throwing money at something isn't some magical panacea for all ills (cough cough Bailout cough cough). The Triples proved that young players and solid management can sometimes win. That the baseball business machine juggernaut isn't the end all, be all of the sport.

If the Triples actually win this thing they will have earned themselves a fan in me. I will overlook the fact that the AL with the DH is an abomination. I'll even buy a hat. Well, if they actually take my name change idea at least. Whatever it takes to keep the Yankees and BoSox out of the World Series (of baseball).

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Whew! It's October and I actually took that long to talk about baseball when the Braves aren't in it. And there is perfectly good football going on out there. On to it.

Saturday means college football here in the South. Kuro and I hit up the Ga Tech game live and in person. We hit up JR Cricket's for wings and beer before the festivities. I can't recommend that place enough. I didn't even get to sit down before the order was ready.

The game itself was fun and I wondered why I haven't been to a game in two years. Then I remembered the Reggie Ball/Chan Gailey experiment. Paul Johnson and his 1960's flexbone (wow, that just sounds five kinds of dirty) have tried hard this year to make me forget about quixotic nature of the past seven. The equally improbable wins and losses that make one question why they bother with all this fandom mess.

That brings us up to Saturday with my Jackets facing what is supposed to be a new Duke team with Cutcliffe at the helm. Loaded up with lack of sleep, 10 hot wings and two 24oz beers for fuel, and the knowledge that Duke broke their ACC losing streak but was still, well, Duke I was ready for the game.

It was a nice day to be out and some old lesbians kept encroaching on Kuro's personal space so it was destined to be an entertaining experience. The first half was kind of lackluster but I've got a feeling that's how this offense will always work. The second half was much more enjoyable (24 points more!) and the only downsides were getting sunburned and the 'burbian housewives behind us nattering on about preparing their children for high school dances (e.g. "So I got the dress at Target, but when I said I got it at Target they were all like, NO WAY, but I got it at Target for cheap. And my usual hairdresser was booked up...." and on in that vein for 10 minutes without breathing).

We public transitted (woohoo, new word) our way back to the hood and had a few more drinks before retiring to our respective abodes to rest up for the poker game over at Cat Arena. The 28 inch pizza brought by Empire and Da Bruiser (in celebration of Empire's 28th bday, natch) was good, but also a bad beat. Broccoli that is baked has interesting effects on my GI system. It does not so much cause intestinal discomfort in me as it does olfactory discomfort in others.

Oh, and I finished up almost four buy-ins. That was nice for once. Nothing to do with skill. Just pure broccoli fuel. That and the Pabst.

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Not much happened on Sunday but the Falcons taking down the Packers. I can't muster up as much hate for the Packers since Favre fled to the Jets. I guess I can just hate the Jets for more reasons than the fact that they are "in" New York.

If you made it this far through the post you deserve to see this. A pure testament to what men find funny. 35 minutes long and worth just letting run on the background while working.