WOOOOOOOO! Or, a US Open Finals Recap

If I knew how to Googlebomb, I’d make sure this image appeared anytime someone Googled “fierce.”

How excited am I about this year’s US Open champions? Well, I’m posting two days early, for one thing. But I also had to engage in a serious internal debate about whether to post Serena’s picture or Andy’s first. Ultimately, I decided on Serena because …well, look at that picture. That woman had a life-threatening pulmonary embolism last year, and this year she won two Grand Slams and two Olympic gold medals. (Her victory celebration reportedly included a karaoke rendition of “I Will Survive.”)
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Hit and Run: London is for the Ladies

We knew, going in, that the London Olympics would be the first to feature female athletes from every participating country.  We knew that there were more women than men on both the US Olympic team and at the Olympics overall.  But Thursday, with gold medal matches in both women’s football and water polo, and the first ever gold medals awarded in women’s boxing, seemed even more special for women’s sports (particularly if you happen to be a fan of the US).  The 1918 Hartlepool Expansion Ladies Football Team* up there would no doubt approve.

* Photo via The Public Domain Project, who have a great post of old team photos.

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Belated Bracket Brawl Brap-Up

I really, really intended to post this last week, but I thought y’all would appreciate an Opening Day post on Opening Day (and CuteSports did an awesome job with it, too). Then my weekend social schedule got inverted at the last minute and I never quite got back to the computer.  So, with my apologies, here is the Bracket Brawl Wrap-Up for 2012.  After all, even if everyone expected Kentucky to win, we did make a little history in our tournament.

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Our fave sports moments of 2011

PhotobucketYour TV, radio and internets are being bombarded with Year In Review posts and specials as I type this. Well, guess what? It’s no different here at Ladies… We took a few moments this week to reflect on our favourite memories of this past year. Some will be hilariously obvious, others may surprise you. All of them will make you warm and fuzzy, like a delicious flute of champagne.

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Advent Calendar of Hotness: Day 8

Today’s ACoH selection was inspired by the last two weeks of New Orleans Saints games and my boyfriend’s growing mancrush on tight end Jimmy Graham.  Since becoming the starter last year, Jimmy has become one of the Saints’ biggest offensive weapons — and this year, he has become one of the best tight ends in the entire league.

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Advent Calendar of Hotness 2011: Day 3

OK, y’all. I try not to be too much of a homer for ACoH, but surely I am allowed one Cardinal — especially this year.  So, I hereby appoint as Day 3 ACoH your 2011 World Series MVP, David Freese.

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Blood, Brackets, and Tears: An NCAA Basketball Wrap-Up

It is December 2010.  You’re looking over your holiday gifts lists when there’s a loud pop behind you.  You turn around to seeyourself, wearing slightly less clothing, hair mussed and eyes bloodshoot.

“I came from the future to warn you,” the apparition says.  “Beware the brackets.  UConn will win and destroy us all.”

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So THAT happened, which was nice.

OKAY, LOOK. It’s been a weird couple of weeks to be a Phillies fan. And by weird, I pretty much mean unutterably nerve-wracking. First Chase Utley needs surgery on his thumb and then Jimmy Rollins hurts himself and may-or-may-not have showed up in the clubhouse on crutches, so we all think the season is done and then Domonic Brown shows up all ‘Your Major League Pitching, I Laugh at You’ and THEN they go and trade for Roy Oswalt which means a Halladay-Hamels-Oswalt-and-those-other-guys rotation and THEN they go and win a game in hideously ugly extra innings BECAUSE THE BULLPEN SUCKS, even if it means the longest winning streak at Citizen’s Bank Park EVER.

I’m sorry, did you just get whiplash from that last paragraph? TRY LIVING THROUGH IT.

One of these days, baseball might actually kill me. Is the trade deadline over yet?

Hanukkah Hunks: The Grand Finale

Please accept our apologies for extreme lateness, but we Ladies… have been busy with everything from final exams, to holiday shenanigans (shopping, parental visits, eating our weight in cheese), to dealing with ridiculous snowstorms as they muck up travel plans.

So we hope that this final installment of Hanukkah Hunks makes up for the missed nights. Continue reading

World Series Poll-o-rama

I have some very happy neighbors, not to mention fellow Ladies, this morning.  (And one not so happy Lady — my condolences, Maggie!)  The Yankees won their 27th World Series last night; Hideki Matsui won the series MVP after tying the record for RBIs in one World Series game (6).  But before we officially adjourn to the baseball off-season, let’s vote on some stuff!

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Congratulations, Division Champs — Oh, Wait.

So, we got that exciting September baseball after all, huh?  It’s been a while since I followed a baseball game that didn’t involve the Cardinals during my work day, but I was definitely keeping tabs on the first half of that doubleheader.  In between actual work, of course.

In fact, with the Dodgers’ stubborn refusal to clinch their division title and the Braves’ surprising surge against the Rockies, all of a sudden we’re entering the final weekend of the regular season with a few playoff spots not quite settled.  Still, let’s take a minute to congratulate those teams who have already clinched their division — because if there’s anything we here at Ladies… like better than pictures of athletes, it’s pictures of athletes celebrating.

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This (Half) Week in Pitching

Isnt it lucky his parents didnt opt for the Zach or Zac spellings?

Good thing his parents didn't opt for the "Zach" or "Zac" spellings.

My brother and I were discussing the other day how it’s hard to pay attention to baseball in August, when half the teams are out of the playoff hunt already but the really meaningful division deciding games are still a few weeks off.  This week a selection of MLB starters took it upon themselves to call our attention back from NFL training camp, impending fantasy football drafts, and Usain Bolt.  Three days in awesome pitching, after the jump.

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Friday Night Lights, y’all!

Friday Night Lights has been renewed for a third season via a deal NBC made with DirecTV. I have no idea if I’ll even have DirecTV next year, but that hardly matters because I’m sure I will be able to get the episodes somewhere. This is awesome news, you guys! This is seriously one of the best shows on TV and if you aren’t watching it, I implore you to download it or buy the DVDs and start watching.

We’re This Many! The Ladies… Turn One.

One year ago, a group of female Deadspinners got together and built a website that would forever alter the sportswriting landscape. Some delusions of grandeur, but whatevs.

better-eggs.jpg

Artwork, as always, by the one, the only, the incomparable Lady J-Money, who credits our success to the quality of our ingredients.

When we last saw our heroines, we were raising glasses to six months of this contraption. Since then….where to start? We got out of the house a little, and brought a few friends along for the ride. We stirred up a couple hornets’ nests and got our knees dirty. We launched a blatant homerism lovefest and let lust rule our fantasy drafts. We went undercover with the Mets and the Mitchell Report and got inside with the Tigers. We turned back time and had ourselves a total eclipse of the heart. We pledged our hearts to the World Series, and just about killed ourselves trying to get there, and just about GOT ourselves killed once we were…but that all worked out just fine, didn’t it? We got down and dirty with the history of Rock and championed the little guys. We came heroically close to covering every single bowl game. We said fond farewells to a fine crop of college boys, and found new targets for next year.

And the snacks. Oh, TSW’s snacky goodness. The legendary Buffalo Chicken Dip. The homemade corn dogs. The 9-Layer Ranchero Dip, K2 of snack foods. Pork with more pork. The genesis of our quiche obsession. The other Ladies got into the act, to the tune of Pudding Shots, Beer Bread, Cheese Straws, and a variety of meats and cheeses.

We celebrated (properly) the apex of football season (and then some), and marked the turning of the sports season. We got our gamble on. We gave thanks, wished on our stockings, spread holiday cheer and strove to be better fans. We found humor in the worst of times and stood up for boobs everywhere. We rassled and clawed and even screwed each other.

After the jump, some poetic and prosaic reflections on our year together.

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Hit and Run: LOUD NOISES!


JIM THOME IS NAUGHT BUT A HOPELESS ROMANTIC

THOOOOOOOOME! Pictured here smooching his wife Andrea (note: not our Andrea), Ol’ Hambone Thome hit No. 500 yesterday, and did it in grand fashion: a two-run walkoff jack, and on Jim Thome bobblehead day. The fellow who caught the milestone ball gave it right back to Jim, and Thome announced after the game that he and his father would deliver it to Cooperstown together.

Excuse me, but it’s gotten dusty in my office all of a sudden. [Sniffle.]

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Congrats, Tommy!

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

Last night, Tom Glavine became only the 23rd pitcher to win 300 career games, and the first to do it as a Met. He pitched very well in 6 1/3 innings, and even helped his own cause by singling in the first run of the game.

It was hard at first for me to accept Mr. Glavine as one of the boys, as one of us. It’s not that I ever hated him as a Brave, because I really didn’t (as opposed to one John Rocker and one Chipper Jones). For me, it was just the hatred of the uniform. Once I realized that no, Glavine wasn’t with the Mets to sabotage them on behalf of the Braves (which, trust me, was no small feat, considering the way he pitched against the Braves the first two seasons he was with the Mets), I embraced him as whole-heartedly as I do the other Mets. (This video is also a big reason of why I could never really hate Tom Glavine.)

So, I’m full of pride for Tommy today, as I congratulate him on winning his 300th game, a crowning achievement in his Hall of Fame career. If you want all the good stuff on the game, head on over to Mets.com. And for much more eloquent fanalysis (fan analysis – what? I can make up words!), go to Faith and Fear in Flushing.

Howevah, if you want to see some pictures of the sweet lefty through the years, come with me… Continue reading

Two Homers Discuss…: Phillies at Mets, 6/7/07

As you’ve probably guessed by now, Ladies… Texas Gal and Clare are quite the Phillies Phans. Unfortunately, they’re separated by 750 miles and a change of time zones. How do they remedy this problem? For what we hope will be the first in a series of Two Homers Discuss… pieces, they fire up their IM programs of choice, chat away and save the results FOR YR LOLZ AND ENJOYMENTZ.

Texas Gal: I’M TIRED OF THESE MOTHER HUBBARD METS IN THIS MOTHER HUBBARD DIVISION
Clare: HI TEX IT’S CL
Clare: CLARE
Texas Gal: WHY DON’T THEY GROW THE FUDGE UP
Texas Gal: PARDON MY FRENCH
Clare: /CHORTLE
Texas Gal: THIS IS WH
Texas Gal: THIS IS WH
Texas Gal: THIS IS WHY I’M HOT

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Yankees vs. Mets – Subway Series, baby!

Mets/Yankees is always a big deal, not just in NYC, but to any Mets or Yankees fan. It’s just fun beating your cross-town rival, the one who always pulled down your pants, stole your lunch money, stole your boyfriend – and then got married on the same day as you. (I hate that bitch.)

But the fun really comes in trash-talking with Yankee fans. When I looked around the Ladies… breakroom, I noticed that there was no Yankee fan amongst us. (We did that on purpose.) So I went out and recruited one of our favorite bloggers (we won’t hold it against you that you’re a Yankee fan!), Sportsgirl365 of Strike Zones and End Zones to give us the Pinstriped Point of View.

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I Did It: The Half Marathon

My running partner says that doing a half-marathon is like having sex because it’s always over too soon and you wonder when you’re going to get to do it again. My running partner is full of shit. I’ve never had a sexual experience that ended with shinsplints, an IV and a handful of Aleve. Well, there was that one time on Spring Break but I’m pretty sure I took Tylenol then.

Mmmm. Metal.Last weekend I pinned a number to my shirt and ran the Charlotte Racefest Half-Marathon with 2,400 other idiots who decided it was a fair trade to run thirteen miles in exchange for arthritis and a hideous t-shirt that will look awesome on a rack at Goodwill. Thirty minutes before the start, we began filing into place behind the elite competitors, the singlet-clad 83-pound runners who shun iPods in favor of keeping pace with the rhythm of their own breathing. That, and the fact that the added weight of a Nano could tear one of their tiny arms out of the sockets.

I found myself standing beside two women who were each complimenting the other’s pale pink sportswear. One gestured to the race’s major sponsor, the sporting goods store whose parking lot served as our temporary corral and announced “I got it in there. I love Dick’s! I can’t stay away from Dick’s” I of course snickered and said “Who can? HAHAHAHA!” The women both shot me a nasty look and my smirk faded when I noticed that the delicate script on Dick Lover’s pastel hat said “Fuck You, Fuckball”.

The starter began the countdown, I turned on my iPod, and every one of us undoubtedly said the same silent prayer that we would make it across the finish line without chafing, without cramping, and without grimacing in any of the pictures being taken along the way. Huh. So maybe it is like sex.

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March Madness with the KSK Mafia: What a lovely party.

pillowfight.jpeg Well, that happened.

Thanks to everyone who came out today to watch the carnage unfold at Kissing Suzy Kolber. Thanks also to our mostly gracious hosts, who, it can truly be said, took their defeat like men. We’re particularly obliged to Monday Morning Punter for his part in the plotting of this whole ordeal, and most especially to flubby, who maintained uncanny patience today when dealing with Holly and her incompatible stylesheet-manglings. Boys, you truly put the bop in the bop-shoo-bop-shoo-bop…or, should we say, the ram in the rama-lama-ding-dong?

For our part, it’s been a blast. Hope y’all enjoyed the show as much as we loved putting it on.

March Madness with the KSK Mafia: The calm before the takedown.

id4.gif Once upon a time, we made a friendly little wager with the lads of KSK. We stumbled, sobbed incoherently, giggled hysterically, and bit our nails in a most unattractive manner for three weeks. In a juju Hail Mary, we even aligned our fortunes with Buckeye Nation.

And Basketball Jesus (there’s a separate one for basketball), in his infinite wisdom, bestowed victory on the worthier party.

And there was much rejoicing.

[I'm going to try my best to get through the rest of this post without referencing Bill Pullman's speech to the pilots in the American cinema classic Independence Day, but it is absolutely killing me. --Ed.]

Tomorrow is zero hour, where “zero” implies “vajayjay”. As agreed, the Ladies… will have the run of Kissing Suzy Kolber for one glorious day. A day of bunnies. A day of Bedazzlers. A day of kittens and puppies and rainbow sunsets and unicorns fucking in grassy fields. The KSK Mafia are doing their best to put on brave faces. Fear not, boyos. Our mission statement promises we don’t kiss nice, but we won’t leave any marks on your back that aren’t purely recreational.