A Spambot Wrote Something Better Than Shakespeare

You know the phrase, if you gave an infinite amount of monkeys an infinite amount of typewriters, eventually, they would recreate the works of Shakespeare. Well, this theory has now been tested in real life, as there are basically infinite spambots posting to infinite websites, and one of these has not only matched Shakespeare, but have far exceeded his works in just one single post. A spambot under the name of Judith Leighton produced this masterpiece that is so beautiful that I have to break it down line by line.

FOOTBALL
What a hook. I like football, so now I must read more. But at this point, if you think you have any idea where this is going, oh man, let me assure you that you have absolutely no idea.

Football is about the several major video game titles trialled around The united states involving NBA 
The beauty of this entire post is that it almost makes sense. Like, upon first read, you're kind of thinking that you read it wrong, but then you read it again, and it is most definitely the fault of the writer, in this case, a Spambot. Like football has video games, and it is around the United States, and it kind of involves basketball, because look at successful tight ends like Jimmy Graham and Antonio Gates. 

The game of basketball, NHL Handbags together with MLB Hockey.
The game of basketball being summed up as NHL Handbags combined with MLB Hockey may be the greatest diss a sport has ever received. It's not real NHL, it's handbag NHL, aka lady NHL, which is a bit sexist. And combining that with major league baseball players participating in hockey.

Your Country wide Footballing Category (NFL) is a specialized North american hockey group in addition to it’s made from thirty-two matchups.
And this is where shit goes off the rails. I really want to start referring to the NFL as "your countrywide footballing category." NFL players really are just a specialized hockey group; can't argue with that.

There are actually two people inside AMERICAN FOOTBAL,
God, I am so excited for you to find out the two people inside American football.

Indigenous Football Summit in addition to Us Little league Summit.
Ah yes, the famous two people, Indigenous Football and Little League Summit. You can't talk pigskin without bringing up these two, battling it out on the court, working to score a goal in the other's home plate purse. Beautiful stuff.

Right now sports is normally the most used activity in north america. The whole number of people of which joined in NFL mmorpgs with 2015 can be 19, 510, 312.
The first sentence shows that Judith clearly knows her sports. It is normally the most used activity. Abnormally, it will not be. But that second sentence has been the one that has really perplexed me. The number of people in the NFL can be 19, 510, or 312. Those are certainly all numbers, but outside of 19 being Joe Montana's number on the Kansas City Chiefs, I cannot think of any significance in the others. I looked up career interception and touchdown leaders, and it's close, but not quite right. Much like Shakespeare, it is impossible to fully understand everything.

Super Run will be the most-watched television plans around National history.
Well, this is something we can all agree on as I am already anticipating the next Super Run. It showed that she's a true sports observer and was the perfect way to end her post. Thank you, Judith Leighton, for trying to get me to click on weird internet sites and using a really bad translator system to do it. I appreciate everything about your post. And for my readers, here is that post in its entirety.

FOOTBALL Football is about the several major video game titles trialled around The united states involving NBA The game of basketball, NHL Handbags together with MLB Hockey. Your Country wide Footballing Category (NFL) is a specialized North american hockey group in addition to it’s made from thirty-two matchups. There are actually two people inside AMERICAN FOOTBAL, Indigenous Football Summit in addition to Us Little league Summit.
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Right now sports is normally the most used activity in north america. The whole number of people of which joined in NFL mmorpgs with 2015 can be 19, 510, 312. Super Run will be the most-watched television plans around National history.

Derrick Rose Was Our Guy

Derrick Rose was our guy. I say was, because yesterday, Derrick Rose was traded from the Chicago Bulls to the New York Knicks. When I first saw the news, I felt a bit of numbness. I know Derrick Rose hasn't been the player he was before his injuries, but I was still hanging on and hoping that one day he would come back and relive those former glory days. So it stopped me in my tracks when I saw it. I'm going to miss Derrick Rose.

There's not many athletes that have meant as much to Chicago sports fans as Derrick Rose. In basketball, there was nobody that could touch his popularity since Michael Jordan. And for all of Chicago sports, the only person that can compare since Jordan is probably Brian Urlacher. Derrick Rose was our guy.

Let's not forget that the Bulls had no reasonable chance to get him but still somehow won that lottery. Derrick Rose was our blessing. And he was a hometown guy. He was a super athletic point guard in a league that was fading away from the dominance of big men. He was literally the perfect superstar to bring the Bulls back to glory.

And the crazy thing is that he did it. He brought the Bulls back to levels they had not seen since MJ. With Tom Thibodeau coaching, the Bulls had a hard-nosed team that were a nightmare for any team to play. Thibs and Noah led the defense, and Derrick Rose was the offense. In their one opportunity before the injury, the Bulls cruised to the Eastern Conference Semis to take on the Miami Heat. Everyone in the world was rooting for the Bulls, and they came out and smashed the Heat by 20. They dropped the next two, but with time ticking down, Derrick Rose had a shot at the buzzer to take game four. It rimmed out, and the Bulls lost in overtime. They then barely lost at home in game 5. People remember it as a dominant 4-1 Heat win in that series, but man, had Derrick Rose just had that one break with the ball rolling in instead of out, it could've been far different.

And that pretty much sums up Derrick Rose's career to this point. It's a lot of what ifs, and so closes but not quites. I could try to go through all of them, but that would make this post incredibly long, and more importantly, I think it would just be too painful. Derrick Rose gave me so much hope, but his career has been emotionally draining to me as well. That's what happens when we care too much. It's stupid and completely illogical to care this much, but I can't help it. Derrick Rose was our guy.

God, this is really sounding like an obituary, so let's remember that he just got traded. He's gone, but we can still see him every now and then. I'll still be rooting for him, as he grasps for that glory that constantly seems just out of reach. But it won't be the same. He's not a Bull anymore. He's not a Chicago lifer. He's not the problem, and he's not the solution. But let's not forget, Derrick Rose was our guy.

Macho Man Randy Savage Is The Greatest: Volume 3 - The SpokesMan

Macho Man is great. Maybe the greatest. In fact, if you don't have Macho Man as one of the five greatest of all time, all of your opinions about pro wrestling are invalid. He was a master in the ring, he was a master with promos, and he was even a master commentator and spokesperson. In fact, although it was not critically acclaimed, I can still listen to and enjoy his rap album. But people know the highlights of his career, instead, I want to celebrate the less famous moments and bring light to these accomplishments, as they are just as impressive as the highlights.

Today, I want to focus on Macho Man as a Macho spokesMan, who would make you Randy for any Savage product that he decided to endorse. Now, everyone is aware of his work with Slim Jim where his intensity made you want to SNAP INTO THAT BEEFY JUICY TASTE. But Macho also had a softer side.

In a world where our heroes constantly disappoint, Macho Man was there to assure us that everything would turn out just fine. Now, I must warn you: Before watching this commercial, you may want to get some tissues, because it's about to get real dusty up in here.

The emotion in this commercial is raw. A child walks alone on a baseball diamond, and...wait, hold up a second. Let's take a look at that jersey.

Yep, that is a "Sport 93" jersey right there. They never fully show the front of the jersey, but I'm nearly positive it just says "Baseball." That has to be the most generic jersey in the history of commercials. So Little Billy Sport, playing for the "Baseball" team is coming out to throw the rawhide around.

Unfortunately, little Billy is met with this sign:

You see, this commercial was made in 1994, during Major League Baseball's strike, and if the pros are on strike, that means little league must follow its lead as part of the MLBPA union and cancel their games as well. Back to the jersey for a second, why is it number 93? The only thing that I can come up with is somebody else used this generic jersey a year earlier, and the WWE decided they could save a few bucks if they didn't get an updated one. I admire that level of frugality.

There is only one man that can save this dire situation, and I think we all know who that is.

OOOOOH YEAH! I mean, just look at that long, majesctic mane that he is sporting. This is a man of pure inspiration.

Macho Man throws some balls for Billy Sport to hit, because baseball should never die. Finally the child turns to Macho Man.

Billy: Do you guys ever go on strike? 
Macho Man: No way, never!

And that, my friends is the beauty of pro wrestling. That was the beauty of the Macho Man.

Why Did Nobody Tell Me About XArm?

Consider yourselves failures. You should all be embarrassed. To let something like this slip through the cracks for YEARS. That's right, not days or months but YEARS. Oh, here's XArm, possibly the greatest sports innovation since Slamball, and you all let it slip through the cracks? Come on, you are all better than that. What is XArm? Oh, my friend, do I have a treat for you.

XArm is extreme arm wrestling. It is stupid and AMAZING. How do you make arm wrestling any more extreme than it already is? I'm glad you asked. First, you strap the two opponents together around the wrist so they are locked into an arm wrestling position. Then, you chain them to the arm wrestling table so they are basically stuck in about the space of a phone booth together. That's kind of badass, but not totally extreme. But let's get to the best part. You allow each person to beat the shit out of their opponent.

Once you add in that last factor, the arm wrestling barely matters, because focusing on pinning somebody's wrist loses a lot of its relevance if that guy is repeatedly punching you in the face. I think this XArm battle may do the best job of acting as the embodiment of the sport.

Before we even get to the contest, I'd just like to point out that this between a guy named Aaron Sawyers, who, yeah, if I had to guess what that guy would do in his free time, I would have definitely guessed XArm contests. And his opponent? Buck Acosta. God damn, that is a perfect name for this sport. Like, that's so perfect that I think the final two choices for what to name this was Buck Acosta and XArm, and XArm only won on a coin flip.

The first round gives you just a taste of the action, and it somehow ends in a pin. I think somebody's arm got pinned, because I think there is arm wrestling in this sport, but before the video starts, it says the only ways to win are knockout, submission, and judges decision. Also, I get absolutely jacked for each round with the dubstep music.

But the second round is where we see the true potential of this amazing endeavor. Sawyers decides that he's bigger and should be able to win a battle of strength against Acosta, so he wants to go for straight arm wrestling. Buck Acosta hilariously just starts throwing nonstop right hooks at Sawyers who just tries to cover up until he finally just quits since he has no answer and no escape since he is both attached to Acosta and a table.

This sport is so totally awesome that my mind is near its breaking point. If you're not convinced, well first off, you're clearly a moron, but second, I think this will change your mind.

Just some 260 pound Dad straight up going for an armbar. God, I can't believe how awesome this sport is.

This is not a sport for the feint of heart. This is a sport for men, especially stupid men, most likely Dads. I want to have a kid just so I can enter. This will be my life. This is my destiny.

I love you, XArm.

A Cardinals Fan, a Cubs Fan, a Red Sox Fan, and a Tigers Fan Walk Into a Bar

...they all walk in at different times, and take seats at the bar.

The Cubs, Red Sox, and Tigers fan start conversing at the bar. The Cubs/Cardinals game is on, and even though the conversation starts on baseball, the fans of their respective teams also converse on Arkansas, Michigan, and Iowa football. Laughs are shared by all, and they are the life of the party.

The Cardinals fan sits quietly on his laptop and stays away from any and all conversation. To call him a party pooper would be an insult to shit.

The three baseball fans marvel at the skills of Jake Arrieta, because even though he didn't have his best outing, he has been on an incredible run in the second half of the season.

The Cardinals fan gets incredibly bitter at the mere mention of Jake Arrieta, because Cubs fans think he's so great. Uh, yeah dude. The reason Cubs fans are like that is because he is pretty great.

The three baseball fans continue to commiserate over sushi and beers.

The Cardinals fan gets a club sandwich (the #1 sandwich for children) and white wine, because of course the white wine pairs perfectly with the Hellman's Mayo on his sandwich.

The three baseball fans all agree that the Cubs are the team to root for in these playoffs.

And worst of all, the Cardinals fan roots for the Cardinals. He was the worst.

To be fair, this all happened for game three. For the final game of the series, I was at a sports bar and sat next to a totally pleasant, female, Cardinals fan. I don't even think she ate any mayonnaise.

I Support Players Celebrating While Getting Blown Out

I, as a hip young fella, generally support celebrating. I think most people in my age group do, because if somebody does something great, they kind of deserve to celebrate. I'd say I get little less comfortable if a player tries to rub somebody's face in their success, but it's gotta be pretty blatant before I start caring. Like, if a guy scores a touchdown and then immediately runs up to the defender to taunt him with the football, that's not cool, but I am in full support of a player watching his home run, because hitting a home run is super awesome, and you should be able to admire that without a pitcher being a fussy baby.

One place where I greatly differentiate from most sports fans is when it comes to celebrations from a player while his team is getting its ass kicked. People seem to think this is something that is truly awful, and I fully embrace it. It seems that people think that a guy who celebrates when his team is down big is an idiot (That may be the case;I think most athletes are stupid people; you kind of have to be to put yourself through that sort of pain and to have the sort of focus that is necessary to excel in such a singular field), but I don't think that's totally true.

I would actually say that celebrating when down big is actually the intelligent thing to do. Let's look at this logically. Think back to a time where you were getting your ass handed to you in a competition. It sucks, and honestly I still get irritated thinking back to these times. Anyway, if you are in the heat of the moment and the only thing you can think about is how badly you are getting your ass handed to you, you are going to perform even worse than you have been. An athlete needs to reset his mind. If he's thinking, "Man, my team is down 42-7" before every play, there is no way he will be celebrating. It takes a strong mental attitude to stay positive and continue to want to kick ass when things aren't going your way. If a guy finally succeeds and makes it into the end zone; let him high step, let him dance, hell, let him kiss a cheerleader (as long as she's cool with it). He's not thinking I just cut the defecit to 28 points; he's thinking he just did something awesome, and awesome things deserve a little celebration.

So take a note from these heroes. Don't continue to be negative no matter what happens; learn to enjoy the positives even on shitty days. You'll be a whole lot happier if you do.

What Are The Best Ages For Your Favorite Team To Win A Championship?

The Effectively Wild podcast had an interesting conversation a couple weeks ago. The situation is this: Your (possibly hypothetical, as in my case) child's favorite team will win three, and only three, championships in his/her lifetime. What ages would you want them to experience those championships? It really got me thinking as there are a lot of benefits for nearly any age and winning a championship. Still, I feel like the following ages (consider the ages approximate as there isn't much difference between 45 and 47) would be the best three years to get that title.

1. Age 11
You need to get a championship during their formative years, but at the same time, you don't want it to be too young of an age. The Bulls won their first title when I was just six, and it didn't mean as much when they were winning those titles, because it became expected. It was still great, but I feel it could have been greater. Also, the Cubs had a good year when I was five, but I don't remember it. Meanwhile, they had another good year when I was 14, and I cried when they got eliminated from the playoffs by the Braves. Is 14 a little old to be crying about sports? Well, it was either cry about sports or have sex with girls, and I had zero interest in the latter. That is why I feel that age 11 is a good balance. I think everybody finds loving sports way too much totally acceptable at that age, and it is late enough that you can fully remember and enjoy the experience.

2. Age 45
This is an approximate age, but it gives a chance for your child to share a championship with his or her child. I mean, once you're an adult, you're probably not getting the same sort of joy out of a championship, but sharing it with a child would probably be pretty boss. The first one is a no-brainer, and I feel like this is a necessity if they are going to have children. Obviously, without children, it loses some luster, but that probably still means that the kid is drinking heavily and can still enjoy a championship even slightly past his or her prime.

3. Age 25
There is something to be said for 70 years old as you can share it with two other generations, but at that age, you really cannot care too much about sports. At that age, health can become a major issue, so I just don't see the risk outweighing the reward. Meanwhile, 25 is that sweet spot for sports fandom. You are young enough to still care way too much about sports and not have too many other responsibilities, but you are old enough where you could actually afford to go all out in your enjoyment. I mean, if you are ever going to make a random trip to see your team in the championship, this is the right time to do it. There isn't a significant other and kids holding you back, and it won't be that hard for you to convince a couple buddies to join along in the adventure.

You may get more nostalgic about the other titles, but this will be the one that you'll have the most vivid memories, and that is why it has to be the third age that you would want your child to experience that championship feeling. 

My First MLS Game

I went to my first MLS game this past weekend as Orlando City SC took on FC Dallas. This writing is probably the first time I have actually gotten the team names correct. So, as you could probably guess, I am not much of a soccer fan.

Even though I'm not a soccer fan, I am enough of a sports fan that I have at least enough knowledge to carry on a conversation about the sport. Because of my limited knowledge about soccer, I decided to look up the rosters of the two teams to see how many guys I knew. The answer was one. Kaka was on Orlando City, and I only knew him from my days of playing FIFA 2002. I remember Kaka being awesome, so I was pretty excited to see him play. Of course, I found out when we got there that he had a red card in the previous game, so he wouldn't be playing. You really dropped the ball on that one, soccer.

Still, there are good things about attending a soccer matchup. The best thing about soccer is the size of the players. As someone who stands just 5'9", I enjoy that I can relate to players who are actually my size. Also, since soccer isn't a real sport, their total lack of athleticism also makes them easier to relate to...just kidding soccer fans. They are real athletes, as was evident from this 5'4" guy on Dallas who was quick as shit. With a guy that small and that quick, I decided that he was my favorite player, so congratulations on that Michael Barrios.

But to me, soccer is a game of almost-exciting moments. You'll see a guy streaking down the field with the ball, but he won't be able to get the ball centered in any meaningful way, so there isn't really any legitimate shot at a goal. You'll see a big pass down the field that gets intercepted by the defense and slowly moved in the opposite direction. There are the occasional moments that lead to shots on goal, but those are almost always missed, so you're left waiting for a climax.

Basically what I'm saying is soccer is the sports world's version of soaking. There's nothing wrong with that, but since I am an adult, I have a finite time for sports, and soccer just isn't going to make the cut for me. Still, it was a fine experience, and I would recommend giving it a try. It's a good chance to get outside and soak in the sun; just don't count on climaxing.

Why I Got Rid of Cable

My wife and I recently moved, and I finally decided it was time to get rid of cable. Now, it wasn't to switch to dish, because I'm pretty sure that sucks even worse. I no longer have a television provider, and I think I am going to be happy with the decision.

The thing that really helped me is that I'm cheap, and cable is super expensive. But the moving really pushed it over the edge as we were no longer able to keep Verizon FIOS which was actually pretty solid for my needs, and Bright House does not have a good cable package for somebody like me. 

Anyway, outside of sporting events, there isn't a whole lot of television that I actually watch live. I DVR normal shows, because then I don't have to wait through commercials. Now, I can just go to network websites and sit through limited commercials. It's certainly not worth paying $80 a month to not have any commercials in my life for scripted television.

So what am I missing out on at this point? Just sports. I like sports a whole bunch, so I will miss it. Now there are some less than legal means in finding sports streamed live online, but even that only covers the major sports. It's going to be quite a bit more difficult to find somebody streaming the Iowa/Minnesota wrestling meet on a Saturday night in the middle of winter (not that winter makes it harder to stream, but I thought it made the sentence sound more important). But that's really all I'm going to be totally missing out on, and $80 for BTN seems just a tad steep.

The Internet is changing the game, and it's time for an old cable supporter like myself to change with it. Yes, sports will be more difficult to watch, but looking at the cost/benefit of having cable, it became clear that it was time for a change. And if you don't like sports, what are you waiting for? You could get Amazon Prime, Netflix, and Hulu Plus for about $25 a month, which should take care of your every want and need. 

tl:dr version of this: I might miss some Iowa wrestling meets, but I'm cheap and saving money.

Jon Jones Vs. Daniel Cormier Is the Biggest Fight of the Year

2015 is starting off with a bang, as I don't think anything is going to touch this weekend for the greatness of sports content. With the New Year's holiday, the weekend started on Thursday, and you could make a pretty strong case that it started on Wednesday evening for New Year's Eve. The longer the weekend, the higher potential for greatness. Still, despite all of the bowl games, the NFL Playoffs, and Iowa wrestling twice this weekend, there is one event that stands above all others, and that is UFC 182 with the main event of Jon Jones defending his Light Heavyweight Championship against Daniel Cormier.

I have been looking forward to this fight since Cormier said he was going to drop down to 205. Cormier is basically Fedor Emelianenko if Fedor had a wrestling background instead of Sambo. He's so incredibly gifted at fighting that I needed no drama to get excited for a fight where he would challenge Jon Jones.

That being said, the drama and shit-talking from each side has been incredible. These guys don't like each other, and that is wonderful. It adds that extra element that gets me way too excited to watch grown men fight. And even with all of the personal dislike, there is still respect. Jon Jones hasn't voiced it as much, but Cormier openly states that Jones will be by far his toughest opponent. And he's right.

Also, you can think Jon Jones is a dick all you want (I basically agree), but there is no fighter that does a better job of being beautifully violent in his fights. He's the most exciting fighter since Pride-era Wanderlei Silva (I am horribly biased for Silva, so nobody will ever top him in my eyes), so every time he steps in the cage to fight, it is absolutely a must-watch event.

This comes down to a battle of good vs. evil. Daniel Cormier is an incredibly likable guy. He's honest, friendly, and most importantly, vulnerable. He will say Jon Jones is great. He will say that he's scared entering the cage. He will even say that the possibility of Jones beating him has crossed his mind. He's a person, and we can see his humanity; he's relatable. Jon Jones is none of those things. He lies, talks shit when the cameras are off (or at least when he thinks they're off), and never shows even a hint of vulnerability. Unless you are also a sociopath, there is no way to relate to him. It is good vs. evil. If Cormier wins on Saturday night, I will celebrate and be happy. If Jones wins, I will sulk and be totally bummed. These emotions from two people that I do not know are completely irrational, but that's what makes this so much fun.

Saying all that, you could take away that entire storyline, and it would still be the most exciting fight of the year.

One Iowa Fan's Journey Through March Mad/Matness

I had been looking forward to this past weekend for a long time. Obviously, I knew Iowa's wrestling team was going to be in contention for a National Title since forever, because they are always in contention for a national title. But this was finally the year when Iowa basketball would make its triumphant return to the NCAA Tournament and wreak havoc on all those that got in their way. In hindsight, things did not quite turned out how I planned. Let's start from the beginning.

Basketball
Last Sunday, Iowa officially got their spot in the tournament, kind of. They had a play-in game for an 11-seed against Tennessee (for these purposes, the weekend started Wednesday night). As KenPom taught me, Tennessee was even more underrated than Iowa, so it was not only a tough matchup, but it was a tough matchup to get into the regular matchup. Ugh was about the only thought I could come up with.

But, I am wildly optimistic about Iowa sports. Since just about anything could happen in sports, I always assume the most positive outcome will happen. I saw the Tennesse matchup as tough, but the SEC barely knows what basketball is, so Iowa should win that one. Then UMass was a ridiculously weak 6-seed, and I haven't been very impressed with Duke all year. That puts Iowa in the Sweet-16 against Michigan, who are dangerous when hot, but Iowa destroyed them the last time they played, so, yes, I did have Iowa making it to the Elite-8 before losing to Louisville (Side note: None of these things are outlandish, especially Tennessee beating Michigan as they have very tough perimeter defense that could give the Wolverines fits). Going into Wednesday night, I had convinced myself that good things were about to happen for the Hawkeyes.

Then Wednesday night started, and Iowa looked great to start off the game. They moved the ball well and Tennessee's shaky shooting was as shaky as advertised. I was ready to start talking trash to both UMass and Duke. But Tennessee crawled back and somehow were only down by three points going into halftime. Still, Iowa was up three points despite getting nothing from Roy Devyn Marble. Once he gets going, Iowa should be able to extend their lead. Also, Tennessee can't shoot, so that's another point in Iowa's favor.

Unfortunately, Marble showed flashes but never really got going, and Tennessee started hitting threes like they were Doug McDermott. And still, Iowa stayed right in the game. Adam Woodbury was amazing; Peter Jok was ridiculous, and even Zach McCabe played really well. They hung close enough for Marble to hit a clutch shot and send the game into overtime. There was still hope.

But that hope quickly disappeared. Iowa just couldn't get things together, and Tennessee had everything going for them. Iowa got outscored 14-1 in overtime to give them their largest margin of defeat through the entire season. After this entire season where Iowa showed they could hang with anyone, but could never pull it out, they hung with Tennessee and just couldn't pull it out. I felt empty, but then I remembered something. The real NCAA Tournament starts tomorrow, and Iowa's wrestling team had a legitimate shot at a national title.

Wrestling:
There was good news and bad news to that, though. I already had plans to go to an Astros Spring Training game in Kissimmee on Thursday, as she had an early flight on Friday morning in Tampa. That meant no wrestling for me on Thursday. I avoided all social media and wouldn't even watch ESPN, as the scroll at hte bottom may spoil a result for me. The good news was that by me avoiding everything on Thursday, I would have 13 straight hours of wrestling to watch on Friday. This had me very excited.

So I end up getting back to my place at around 9:30 after five straight hours of driving and very little sleep. Still, this was the NCAA Wrestling Tournament; there was way too much excitement for me to feel tired. Session I started off well. Cory Clark came out like a man on a mission. Ramos had a close match, but I'll allow that from Ramos, because he's proven himself pretty well these past four years. Iowa suffered their first loss when Dziewa lost, but he was the one guy expected to lose in the first round, so it was not that big of a deal. He wrestled better against Dutton than he did in their previous match, so it was a step forward. After that, both Grothus and St. John looked good in taking care of their opponents.

And then things fell apart. In two of Iowa's next three matches, Iowa suffered huge losses. Nick Moore and Ethen Lofthouse, both 5-seeds in the tournament, suffered first round upsets. The other three remaining Hawkeyes did take care of business, but that was rough. Nick Moore had been wrestling great, and I honestly thought he might be the second best guy at 165 (it was a distant second, but still), and Lofthouse looked healthy with a bracket that lined up perfectly for him to make the finals since both Ed Ruth and Gabe Dean were on the other side. Looking at how the tournament played out, I think he would have had a hell of a time beating Sheptock, but a semifinals appearance would have been a whole lot better than how things turned out.

Even my optimism began to wane.

I'm just now watching Session I of the tournament, and through eight weight classes, I have already given up on Iowa's championship hopes.
— Hott Joe (@HottJoe) March 21, 2014

I then ate a quick lunch and got into Session II. Clark took care of business, and Ramos nearly gave me a heart attack, as he had his second close matchup, this one even closer than the last, as he managed to beat Zane Richards in Sudden Victory. Still, a win is a win. Grothus got beat by Maple, but I expected that. But, everybody else took care of business. St. John, Evans, Burak, and Telford all wrestled well and advanced to the quarterfinals. Iowa had six guys in the winner's bracket.

And that was all it took for me to get my optimism back. When other teams go to the consolations, I assume they will quickly lose again, but when Iowa guys lose, I just assume that they are going to wrestle tough and grind their way back to an All-American finish. By now, you should already know that my optimism was not well placed.

Dziewa got one win before losing to the #2 seed at his weight in sudden victory who just happened to be from Minnesota which put a knife in my chest. Grothus lost his first consolation match against a guy he had already beaten twice this season, which dug that knife a little deeper. Nick Moore won two consolation matches before being on the receiving end of another 5-point move to get eliminated from the tournament and twist that knife a bit. Finally, Lofthouse topped it off by only winning one match in the consolations before getting shut out in his next match. I don't know what else knives can do, so I guess it just did another 360 twist again.

But I still had six wrestlers to look forward to in the championship bracket of Session III. Iowa had two favorites, one underdog, and three tossups. This tweet sums up my emotions well.

I'm about to watch Session III, and I'm excited at what Iowa could do, yet still terrified. Sports are illogical, and I'm a mess. #Hawkeyes
— Hott Joe (@HottJoe) March 21, 2014

Here's how Session III went:

Bad: It started off how I expected as Cory Clark just didn't have enough to beat eventual National Champion, Jesse Delgado.
Good: After that, Ramos kept Iowa fans terrified but got a late takedown in the third to advance to the semifinals.
Bad: Derek St. John wrestled his lackadaisical style but was unable to create scrambles and instead just got repeatedly taken down to lose his match 11-4.
Good: Mike Evans won in a tiebreaker over Matt Brown in an excellent match to advance to the semifinals. This was probably the match that had me most excited as it was not only a tough win, but it was a tough win over Penn State which makes it twice as nice.
Bad: Nathan Burak lost to Chris Penny, who he had beaten earlier this season.
Good: Bobby Telford finally got over the hump and beat Adam Coon in a tiebreaker.

Overall, 3-3, and it was a total rollercoaster of emotions. At this point, I had watched 10 straight hours of wrestling. I was mentally drained but physically anxious. I also had three dogs being pests, so we went for a quick two-mile run to get the bad vibes out. In the biggest shocker of the day, I actually took a shower between my 13 hours of wrestling.

At that point, I had finally caught up to the live viewing on ESPN for Session IV, the semifinals. The good news, although I was not watching, was that the three guys who lost in the quarterfinals all won their first consolation match to guarantee their spots as All-Americans. Six All-Americans, things could be worse.

For the semis, we'll start at Heavyweight, Tony Nelson is just a better version of Bobby Telford. Telford managed a win at the dual, but Nelson was wrestling great in this tournament, and Telford just didn't have enough to beat him. This was a bummer, but it was the easiest match for me to take.

Tony Ramos again tried to give all Iowa fans a heart attack in his rematch against AJ Schopp. Ramos just did not get to his offense at all in the first period. Then Schopp rode out Ramos in the second period and then got a quick escape to ensure that he would get a riding time point. Things were not looking good when Tony Ramos did Tony Ramos things and not only got a takedown but took him to his back for a five-point move to secure the victory and move onto the championship. At least Iowa would have one guy in the finals.

And god damn, it should have been two. I can't imagine how Mike Evans feels about his match against Chris Perry, because even days later, it's tough for me, who has no connection to Mike Evans outside of the fact that we attended the same university years apart, to write about it. No scoring happened in the first and Perry was able to get an escape in the second period, but as time was ticking down, Evans pulled off a takedown to lead 2-1 going into the third period. Evans had the decision and chose down. At the time, it seemed questionable, and it turned out to be an awful decision. Perry rode him out and Evans never came close to getting the escape. They were going into overtime. They got in a scramble, and this happened.

Yep. That's what looks to be a pin. In fact, I'll go so far as to say that this is definitely a pin. There have been lesser pins in the WWE, but the ref, despite looking right at it, refused to call the defensive pin. Chris Villalonga, from Cornell, suffered his first loss of the tournament on way less than this, but the ref didn't want to make the call. In the end, they went to ride-outs, and Evans got ridden out, and Perry escaped and avoided Evans enough to avoid the last-ditch attempt at a takedown. John Smith, coach of Oklahoma State, then got interviewed and didn't understand why Iowa fans were booing. I yelled a lot of expletives at my television. Evans should have made the finals, and it really sucks that he didn't. There's nothing more I can say.

After 13 hours of wrestling and standing for every Iowa match that they showed (because I'm a very pathetic individual), I was pretty tired, so I watched a few dribbles of basketball and went to bed.

Saturday morning was the medal round, and it was not a good showing for the Hawkeyes. I'll rank it from my favorite to most disappointing performance.
1. Cory Clark - He lost his first match to Megaludis, but he wrestled really hard. Megaludis was just a little more solid, and the new takedown rules (which I completely agree with) benefited Nico. Still, Clark was going for it, and that's what really matters. On top of that, he dominated his 5th place match with an 8-1 win over Dylan Peters.
2. Bobby Telford - He was the only person to make it into a third place match, and he ended up taking fourth. A win over Mike McClure is always impressive, but it was 1-0, so that is a classic Telford there. He didn't get to his offense in the third place match and lost Mike McMullan 3-1. Nothing too exciting, but he's a heavyweight, so that's never really expected.
3. Nathan Burak - He took eight place, yet still finishes this high as he wrestled hard but lost to Morgan McIntosh.
4. Mike Evans - He just didn't have it after getting screwed in the semis. I don't blame him. He lost two matches that weren't particularly close to take 6th place.
5. Derek St. John - He finished in 5th place, but he got beaten badly by Ian Miller of Kent State, and then he never got a chance to redeem himself as Brian Realbuto injury defaulted out of their 5th place match. For a guy that grinded out every second of every match during his four years at Iowa, it's disappointing to see him take a beating and never get one last shot at another match. Still, it was a great career for DSJ.

Finally, I made it to Saturday night. ESPN was going to make me wait for the Ramos match as they were starting at 174. This was extra depressing as I had to start the night off by watching Chris Perry win a National Title despite getting pinned in the semifinals. That meant Tony's match was going to be seventh. I make it through the matches, realize that once Tony Nelson lost, Penn State had basically secured their fourth straight National Title. But this night was not about the team race for me anymore. Iowa was stuck in fourth, so it was time to see the culmination of Tony Ramos's four hard years at Iowa where he would take on Tyler Graff, a guy who always wrestled him extremely close. This match would be no different.

If you were trying to sell people on watching wrestling, I would not rely on this match. It was a deliberate match. Neither guy wanted to make a mistake, and neither guy did. No scoring in the first. Graff got an escape in the second. Ramos got an escape in the third. Sudden victory, and not a score was to be had. Tony went down and could not escape from Graff. My heart sank. Tony needed to get a ride out to force it to another sudden victory period. The period started and Graff was close to squirming his way out. He did everything that he could to get away from Tony. He twisted and turned, and that would be his downfall. He turned over to his back, and Ramos planted him there for the two back points before riding him out for the rest of the period to win the National Title at 133 pounds. Ramos took his time to flex, get his hand raised, and sprint over and jump into the stands with his family and friends. After 5 years in the program, and four as a starter, Tony Ramos finally got the asterisk that he so richly deserved next to his name in the Iowa wrestling room.

Overall, this was a terrible weekend to be an Iowa fan. The basketball team got a bad seed and couldn't even make it to the round of 64, and everything is lining up for the team that beat them. On top of that, the most hated man in Iowa guided his team into the Sweet 16.

On top of that, the wrestling team had disappointing loss after disappointing loss and never came close to sniffing the overall title. Despite all that, the lasting image from this weekend will still be Tony Ramos jumping into those stands to celebrate five years of hard work. Sports are stupid. They are cruel, and they will make you feel miserable. I felt terrible way more than I felt good this weekend, but that one moment of a Hawkeye's dream coming true made it all worthwhile.

How I Grew Up And Became a Progressive Thinking Dude

When it comes to life, I'm an idiot. I have made ridiculously bad and irresponsible decisions my entire life. The only thing I am pretty intelligent about is sports, and that, in itself, is stupid. I'm not making a living off my sports knowledge, and the amount of time I spend invested in sports is really ridiculous, because in the grand scheme, they are pointless. Still, I am aware that this aspect will probably never change no matter how much logic tells me it should.

What really got me thinking about what an idiot I am was my progression to be less of an idiot when it comes to women. If you had talked to me ten years ago, my thoughts on women were basically about the same as a Neanderthal. I quoted Andrew Dice Clay as if he made good points. Come to think of it, I wasn't much better five years ago. I started liking girls as human beings, but I still felt the Entourage bros had life figured out. But now, typing that sentence makes me sick to my stomach. That's what I call progress.

When I first graduated college, I had a job where I very much disliked my female boss. I was under the impression that women didn't make good bosses. Now I realize that this was stupid, as she was just a bad boss and could have easily been as bad had she been a male. I was a know-it-all shithead, so part of the blame goes on me.

Then I started working with some very impressive ladies, and I realized I do not care whether I work with women or men. With guys, I can talk about sports, or things get really awkward. With women, I can talk about The Bachelor, but even if they don't watch that, they tend to laugh at my jokes more. Maybe it's because I am good looking. That's sexist, but it's either that or I am actually funny, which makes me arrogant, so pick your poison.

Anyway, I got married in September, and now I am a huge fan of women's rights. My wife has succeeded in a male-dominated industry, and that's awesome. She's super cool, and I like love her and shit. But none of this is a big deal, because I would hope that most people share my opinion that women should be treated equally in the work place.

Lately, people have pointed out how comfortable I am with non-traditional things. I let my wife go out on dates with other guys. When it is printed like that, it sounds pretty bad, but she has worked in a male-dominated industry for ten years, so she has a lot of friends that are guys. I understand that people think it's weird, but logically, it just makes sense to me. She gets a free meal, which saves money, and I get some alone time with the dog, so win-win. I think the biggest thing that people would worry about is her cheating on me, but this isn't a concern of mine. First off, I trust my wife. Second, I am way too lazy to keep track of her at all times, so if she wants to cheat, she can find a way to do so without me knowing. I am not an observant person, so she could probably get away with it forever.

The other thing that has come up recently is her changing her last name. When we first got engaged, she joked about keeping her last name, and I was adamant that she was going to have my last name. This was only about a year ago, but I have done a 180 on this issue. It's a really silly thing for the woman to take a wife's name, as it basically seems to be done to show ownership, but it's also a tradition which is why I thought it mattered. I definitely don't own my woman, and I also don't think her last name has any effect on the strength of our relationship so it stopped mattering to me. Also, it seems like a real hassle for ladies to change their names on everything. With that being said, she chose to take my last name, but it was after I failed at convincing her that it was a waste of time. She wanted that tradition, which is also totally cool by me.

All of these events helped me realize that I am becoming a progressive dude. It is partially because I don't care about things that don't matter or that I can't control, but at least it gets me to the proper mindset. I understand that I am still not the most progressive thinker in the world, and in ten years, I will probably realize how stupid I was about a variety of other issues, but at least I'm taking positive steps. Going from an ignorant piece of shit to a human being is pretty cool.

The Saddest Ending In Sports

I didn't expect that to happen.

There were so many ways I could have seen Anderson Silva and Chris Weidman's rematch going, but that definitely wasn't one of them.

I have long been a detractor of Anderson Silva as I thought that any good wrestler with some semblance of submission defense should be able to take him out as long as they stuck with a good game plan. I was wrong, because it didn't take a good game plan; it took a perfect game plan. Anderson Silva is so dangerous on his feet that every second that a person spends standing up is a second where they have a high risk of being knocked out. I wrote about his greatness before this fight and how excited I was for this fight, but now I am left with nothing but this empty feeling.

I'll admit I didn't see it at first. I thought that I missed him getting clipped, and then when I saw him holding his leg, I knew it was bad. Then I heard his screams. God, those screams. It was as disturbing as a child's scream, and this is not meant to compare Silva to a child, but to recognize that somebody that tough to be in that much pain is just sickening.

Then I saw the replay. And my worst thoughts were confirmed. His leg snapped in half. After that happened, nothing else mattered. Even Weidman knew, he gave a quick raise of the arms, but then went to check on Silva before being shooed away so the medical staff could take care of him.

The UFC crowd is not known for their sympathy, but everyone knew that this was terrible. As Weidman had his post-fight interview with Joe Rogan, there were no cheers, there were no boos, there was just ambient noise that seemed neither positive or negative, it just was.

No matter what happens from here, he's the greatest fighter we have ever seen, and it's going to take an incredible comeback from Georges St. Pierre or an incredible run from Jon Jones for anyone to challenge that position in the near future. The man was made to fight and reached his highest potential. So very few in any occupation can say that.

This is an unfair scenario for Anderson Silva. This shouldn't have been how his career ended. He was so great for so long. I got angry watching him, because everything he did looked so easy that it made me sick. I could make up a game specifically designed to my strengths and still not be as great as he was at mixed martial arts. Even last night, I had that feeling of inevitability that Silva was going to start picking apart Weidman after surviving that first round. He never stopped being great. Instead, greatness was taken away from him.

I have been trying to figure out the right way to end this, but I'm at a loss for words. I guess that's fitting; Anderson Silva's career was made by leaving fans speechless.

I Have Lost My Sports Hate

I hate the St. Louis Cardinals. I say that, because it is something that, as a Cubs fan, I have believed in my entire life. But, being honest with myself, I really don't hate the Cardinals. I'm 28 years old, and at this point in my life, I have to be pretty selective with my sports hatred.

I no longer hate the Cardinals, I'm just tired of them. I just want them to go away. I don't really care about the Tigers, but I'm kind of semi-rooting for them on the rare occasions that I accidentally turn on baseball. The Cubs suck, and fantasy baseball is over, so I have no reason to give two shits about the baseball season.

This is only partially because I am a much bigger college sports fan than I am of professional sports. As a fan of Iowa, I don't care at all about baseball, because Big Ten baseball is as relevant as the Jamaican hockey team. Even with the teams that do matter, I can't quite build up hatred for their opponents.

Iowa basketball has been bad for a while, so it's not like they can really create a rivalry. I think I probably hate Illinois basketball the most, but it certainly doesn't keep me up at night.

Iowa football matters, but I've gotten past the rage at how things are run to just kind of laugh when things get horribly fucked up. I was actually a Ken O'Keefe supporter. He did a solid job. He was conservative, but Kirk wants to run a conservative gameplan. People really hated the guy, but almost everyone just complained about a play call after it failed instead of having a viable solution. I also don't hate Kirk, because ten wins every few years is pretty cool. Maybe he'll never make it to the Rose Bowl, maybe he'll make it this year. He's still a really good coach, and yes, I realize he is overpaid, but I can't blame him for that. As for football rivalries, it really irritates me when Iowa loses to Northwestern, but it is just Northwestern. Wisconsin would be a rivalry, but Iowa no longer plays them every year, and I have had some great times in Madison, so it is tough to build up too much hatred. Maybe I could hate Nebraska, but the rivalry started one year ago, so I'm going to need some time to build up hate for them.

And then there's Iowa Wrestling, but hating another team in wrestling would be a real asshole move considering my favorite team always finishes in the top-5 nationally. I would say that I hate the fan bases of places like Penn State for having an awesome wrestling team and not giving a shit about it.

So, that's where I'm at. I no longer have that blind hatred of sports teams. I used to hate teams like the Packers and Cardinals. Now I'd still rather see them lose than win, but I don't have that chlamydia feeling burning inside of me anymore. Now it's more like a zit on my ballsack. Yeah, it's annoying, but it's pretty easy to make it go away.

I Suck At Basketball

I used to be decent at basketball. I was an okay shooter, even though my shot is very, very ugly. The strongest part of my game was defense, because I was quick, and I had the mindset that I was as good as the black kids. I wasn’t, but I still was never intimidated. Also, since a lot of defense is focus, I was able to focus on that, because offense was for nerds anyway.

I have not touched in basketball in years. I have not played consistently in over a decade. But there is never anybody at the basketball courts at my gym early in the morning. I figured that would be a fun way to get a light exercise in on some mornings, so I had my parents get me a basketball for my birthday (yes, my parents do still get me birthday presents). I headed to the gym on Tuesday to shoot around. I threw the ball up, expecting the worst, and the ball went in. Hum, I did not see that coming. Then I took another shot and…swish. Um, okay. I proceeded to hit 7 out of 10 of my first shots, and I was feeling good about myself. Really good. I was strutting around like I farted Swagger Deodorant. You can probably guess what happened next.

The wheels fell off. Holy shit was I awful after those first shots. Airballs, bricks, and just generally ugly shots littered my shooting session. It was awful. I was awful. I decided to nail all the shots from a 3 point contest before heading home, and it took me like 40 shots to do it. I made two threes in a row and decided that would be a good place to stop. I decided to hit a layup to make it three in a row and BRICK. Jesus, how does someone brick a layup? I don’t know how, but I know that I managed to do it. I had to shoot for another three minutes before I hit two shots in a row again and decided I did not need to give myself the ultimate challenge of hitting a fucking layup. Christ.

Since I hate being bad at stuff, I decided I was going to improve. I am going to force myself to keep at it by giving updates of my progress. Occasionally, I will shame myself on this blog, but for the most part, I will give updates via twitter (@HottJoe) every time I shoot hoops. I am going to focus on the 5 spots in the three point contest and free throws. I plan on taking 100 shots from one spot on the court every time I go and shoot. I started in the right corner, because when I was growing up and playing hoops in the back alley, I could knock down shots from the right corner like I was freaking Craig Hodges. Since I knew I kind of sucked, I figured I would shoot for 30-100. I’m shooting wide open threes, and shooting the same shot over and over so I should be able to get on some hot streaks and at least hit 30 uncontested threes. Here are my results, and,*Spoiler Alert* holy fuck was I wrong.

So I missed my first 7 shots. No big deal. I’m just getting warmed up. I should get on some streaks later where I can make up the ground. The 8^th shot goes in, so I’m not feeling good, but I’m still feeling alright.

Status: 1-8

I do not heat up. I occasionally hit a shot, but I do not hit them often. That 1-8 was an ominous sign of things to come. I keep shooting, but 30% is looking near impossible at this point.

Status: 5-40

I’m still confident. I don’t know why, but I just assumed that I could point to my 5-40 start and then show the progress I was able to make as I attempted more shots. I still think a 25-60 finish, although improbable, is still possible. I love me some me, but slowly, I am beaten down as shot after shot goes in and out. Things are not improving.

Status: 8-69

Things actually get worse. Airballs, bricks, and can it even be considered a brick when you hit the side of the backboard? Because I definitely did that a few times. My longest streak of shots made stands at one. That’s right, through 88 shots, I have not made two in a row. It is impressive how bad I am at this. 30% ain’t happening. 20% would take a near-miracle. I’m honestly just hoping that I can hit one more and get above 10%.

Status: 10-88

And then, it finally happens. I start heating up…by my standards. I hit 3 of 10. Still can’t hit two in a row, but at least I am above 10% for the day.

Status: 13-98

It is at this point that I realize that I need to keep shooting until I can end on a made shot. This slightly pumps me up, because I know I will end on a high, but it also slightly depresses me, because I just had my hottest streak by hitting 3 of 10, and it may take me until shot 120 to make another one. I take shot 99, and it actually goes in.

Status: 14-99

Now the pressure is on. I have not done nearly as well as I thought I would, and I had pretty low standards to begin with. If I hit this shot, I get to go home. Not only that, but a make here means that I have an actual streak of two shots made, something that I have not been able to accomplish through my first 99 shots. I take a deep breath, focus, exhale and shoot…SWISH! I have made it. You better believe I gave a little fist pump, grabbed up my gear and jogged out of the gym with a smile beaming on my face. I was a winner.

Status: 15-100

And so goes the first of many shooting sessions for me. I think it's safe to say that I still need a little work on my game.

The Greatest Softball Game Ever Played

A few weeks ago, I witnessed history. I saw some of the greatest athletes in the world give it their all in the sport they loved. Then we put down our beers, stopped watching basketball, and headed to the baseball complex to watch my idiot buddies play a game made for idiots. The team was sufficiently buzzed, which made them in perfect condition to play slow-pitch softball.

Now I must make an admission that I am awful at all baseball related activities. It's not something I worry about as I'm pretty great at most other things. If you've read the book Moneyball, I became the team's Paul DePodesta. If you saw the Moneyball movie, I became the team's Peter Brand. If you have not read the book or seen the movie, my main duty was keeping score, but I would still refer to myself as a bench coach. This is usually not a problem, but this game would definitely test my book-keeping skills (I tell you this only so it makes sense that despite not taking the field, I will to the team as our team, and use the we form, because I suffered through the freezing cold that February in the Midwest provides and I deserve at least some credit).

After blowing through our first two opponents, we were confident that we would cruise to the championship as we had won it all two of the last three years. We took the field first as the home team, and our raucous crowd of eight fans cheered on the squad as they stumbled to their positions. Unfortunately, this game did not go like the other games, as this team could hit the ball...and hit the ball...and hit the ball. It also didn't help that our outfielders didn't believe in cutoff men, but it was mostly their hitting that led to them taking a 13-0 lead after the top half of the first.

Luckily, our team rallied back for a total of...three runs. Yep, at the end of one, it was 13-3. Things were not looking good.

The bad guys responded with six more runs, making it 19-3 going into the bottom of the second. This is where Manager/3rd Base Coach, Jay, really took his game to a new level. He gave no inspirational words, in fact, he said nothing to the team at all. He just went out to third base as if his only job was to guide them on the basepaths. This move of ignoring the team only ignited the fire in each and every player, and a crazy thing happened. They started hitting. They started running. And most importantly, they were drinking again. They got back into the game by scoring eight runs, and making it 19-11.

Sure the team was still down eight runs, but it sucked the life out of the visiting dugout. Before the bad guys knew what happened, they produced a scoreless top of the inning, leaving the score at 19-11 going into the bottom half of the third.

The good guys kept clawing back, and put up four more runs in the bottom half of the third to make it 19-15. They had the bad guys right where they wanted them.

But here's the sad tale that nobody wants to tell you. Sometimes, the drunken assholes (good guys) can't beat the team that is sober and seem like decent human beings (bad guys). Sometimes shit hits the fan. The bad guys started spraying line drives all over the field and ended up scoring eight more runs to extend their lead to 27-15. Things were looking bleak and blurry for the good guys.

Jay would not sit idly by with silence this time around. He greeted the team in the dugout and spoke in his regular voice, "Let's go team." Three words. Three simple words. Yet, not even Martin Luther King Jr. could have ever said something so powerful so briefly. "Let's go team." These words did not echo in our heads, but in our hearts. "Let's go team."

And go that team did. Batter after batter, whether spraying a line drive, beating out an infield hit, or drawing a walk, just kept reaching base. Slowly, the lead shrunk, 16, 17, 18 the runs went up. 19, 20, 21, and the hits kept coming. 22, 23, 24, the team cheered with every batter. We didn't know what was going on, but we knew it was magical. 25, 26, 27, and the game was tied. It was pandemonium in the dugout. Grown men were hugging (honestly, this was mostly the alcohol, but the comeback helped). 28, and eventually 29 before the inning ended. Where the bottom of the fourth started as a 27-15 deficit, it ended as a 29-27 lead.

We could have put the nail in the coffin, but errors and miscues led to the bad guys putting up three runs to go up 30-29 going into the bottom half of the last inning.

Still, we had to feel good. In a 30-29 game, and our 2-3-4 hitters starting off the inning, one run didn't seem too difficult. But, like every event in this game, nothing was easy. Our #2 hitter fouled a ball off with two strikes, which counts as a strikeout.

One out.

It shouldn't have mattered. We had our best hitter up, somebody who had something crazy like eight home runs in the tournament, six of them inside the park (Seriously, MLB scouts, contact me. He gave me the right to act as his agent). With his speed, all he had to do was get on base and it was a guaranteed run. He popped it up.

Two outs.

Our cleanup hitter drew a walk. We're still alive.

Then our first basemen, fresh out of his AA meeting, and getting progressively drunker as the day goes on, rips a line drive to the outfield, and both he and the runner on first are chugging around the basepaths (speed was not a strength of this team, so they were not flying around those bases). Still, the crowd went wild as one run crossed the plate and our first basemen stood proudly at third.

Tie ball game. 30-30.

Although the tie was great, the tournament rules stated that extra innings were sudden death, so if we were unable to score a run, we would need to shut the opposing team out in the sixth for a chance to win the game. Really, what we needed was another run.

Our drunkest hitter, D, came up to the plate. This guy has trouble standing, so when you put just a tiny amount of alcohol in him, he becomes a truly decrepit piece of shit. There is nobody I have less confidence in on the team. But luckily, a miracle happened. They intentionally walked him. Our drunkest hitter walked to first, and then to second as they intentionally walked the man after him as well.

Up came our right fielder, and co-captain, Tony. This is a man who tore his MCL in the tournament the year before, because the man simply doesn't know how to not give 110%. This was the moment that every little boy dreams of. Tie game, two outs, bottom of the fifth with the bases loaded in the annual winter slow-pitch softball tournament. And so he came up to the plate, with the bright C on his sweatshirt, ready to make or break the team's hopes of a championship.

The pitcher lobbed one up (they're all lobs in slow-pitch softball) and time seemed to go in slow motion. Tony took a cut at the breaking ball that seemed to hang up there just a little too long. He blasted it into the gap. The outfielders were in hot pursuit of the ball, but they had no chance as it landed between the outfielders and rolled to the fence. One run scores, two runs score, three runs score, and even Tony would circle the bases for an inside-the-park grand slam (as scorekeeper, I am giving him credit for this, even though the game is technically over when that first run crosses the plate).

34-30 was the final score as the entire team rushes the field. The dog pile was pure insanity, and I apologize to the person I stabbed with my scorekeeping pencil. The celebration continued all night long as we ate greasy food, drank cheap beer, and sexually harassed every woman we came in contact with. We partied like kings.

If you wrote that in a script, everyone would say it was too unrealistic to ever be made. This wasn't a Hollywood ending. It was an Iowa ending, because shit gets real in the heartland.

Bronies Are Jabronies

When reader Jacob asked me to write about Bronies, I was confused. At first, I thought he was shortening the word jabronies and he wanted me to write about the worst wrestlers in professional wrestling history. That's an awesome idea for an article, and I still might do it. My next thought was that maybe he was just missing the "w" in brownies, and he feels like it's the best dessert of all time (he'd be wrong, it's cupcakes). But then he told me to Google it, and it was much more disturbing than either of those ideas.

Bronies are adult males who love My Little Pony. Yes, I am talking about this My Little Pony:

So I thought I could write about the men who love My Little Pony, but they really aren't that interesting. They're just a bunch of adults who watch My Little Pony. It's a lot like my group of friends, except we chose the show It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia, and because of that, we are not incredibly depressing losers.

But there must be something behind this show. So I decided to watch an episode on YouTube. I have to say I'm not very familiar with the show. I think my sister may have had some of the toys, but my childhood memories of watching cartoons primarily center around G.I. Joe, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, and Hulk Hogan's Rock n' Wrestling. At first I was going to watch Episode 1, so I wouldn't be confused on anything, but it was a two-parter, and I really didn't want to be left with a cliffhanger, so I decided to take my chances and go with Episode 13, "Fall Weather Friends".

:58 - I'm less than a minute in, and I am thanking this YouTube poster for providing a description, because these two characters who are playing a game of Horseshoes have called each other approximately 600 different names while talking shit back and forth. Luckily, I know that the blue Pegasus is Rainbow Dash and the pony with the cowboy hat is Applejack.

1:19 - Applejack wins the game of horseshoes (obviously). Rainbow Dash is pissed, so she does the obvious thing: She challenges Applejack to an iron pony contest.

6:06 - They have been competing in a bunch of stupid events and each keep taking their turn winning. They show eight events, and then announce that they are halfway through and the score is 5-5. I have no idea what the other two events were, but I'm guessing they were not safe to be shown to children.

8:05 - Rainbow Dash proceeds to win the next ten events, because she has wings. I found this outrageous, and so did Applejack, so she calls her out on it. RD's use of wings really parallels Barry Bonds' use of steroids in baseball. Some would argue that there were no rules against it, while others see it as blatant cheating and think that RD and Bonds disgraced their games.

9:31 - They are now running a marathon to see who the best pony is, with one stipulation: There will be no use of wings allowed.

11:14 - There is now a purple horse involved called Twilight. RD and AJ are laughing at her, because she's a nerd and can't win the race. She says she's never run a race but has read books about it. If this bitch, Twilight, wins the race, I'm going to be pissed.

14:35 - I'm pretty sure Joe Buck learned how to announce from this show. These announcers are the worst, especially Pinkie Pie. The show is in on the joke, which I'm sure nerds love, but it doesn't make it less annoying.

20:20 - RD and AJ battle it out and tumble to the finish line. They tie...for last place. Twilight took fifth, so at least I don't have to be pissed.

21:30 - Some Super Princess Pony teaches them a valuable lesson about behaving properly. AJ and RD decide to become great friends, and all is well in Equestria.

So, what did I learn from watching MLP? Not much. The show is tolerable, but not good. I have no interest in becoming a bronie. There's really no room for that in my life. But I am proud to be a Broski. Woo woo woo, you know it.

-Joe

P.S. What's the fastest growing domestic beer? That's right, Natty Light, bitches. Suck on that.

Why Poker Is Less of a Sport Than Scrabble

I went for a run this morning, and luckily, instead of my mind focusing on the pain of running, it wandered off to far and distant lands. I could delve deeper into those thoughts, but I honestly don't think anybody wants that.

Unless a person is a complete moron, everybody should be on the same page that poker is clearly not a sport. A sport takes some sort of physical strain, and even Christopher Reeve considers poker to be a light workout (he's a paraplegic and dead).

Now, I will admit that I am in no way a poker player. I have played before, but I find the game to be incredibly boring, because the game of poker is incredibly boring. I would rather pull out individual hairs from my legs than play poker, because at least then I'd be doing something.

But I don't want to dwell on how boring it is; I want to talk about the lack of skill involved in the game. I think about other competitions that are not sports like chess, scrabble, and hot dog eating, and I realize that you could give me a million shots to beat a world class player, and I would always lose. Meanwhile, if you matched me up one-on-one against the best poker player in the world, there is no way that I can't win at least 5% of the time, and I'm guessing I'd win closer to 20%.

At first glance, this may seem ridiculous, but it's 100% true. If I went all-in every single time, eventually he would have to call, and since I wouldn't give the game any respect, I would refrain from ever looking at my cards. Even if he had a great hand, and my hand was awful, I would still end up winning at least a few of those.

So the next time somebody invites you over to play poker, tell them that it's a loser's game that involves limited skill. Tell them to bust out the Scrabble board instead. It may not be a sport, but at least there's a definitive level of skill involved.

-Joe

P.S. Speaking of games, the new additions to Franchise mode on Madden look pretty awesome. I highly recommend checking out all the new features.

P.P.S. There's so much that I love about this video. I obviously love the content. But I also love that they posted it. The thing I love the most is that whoever is holding the camera is far more concerned about getting a good shot than anyone's well-being.