I thought I posted this last night, so my apologies for being late to get this to you all, but if you follow me on Twitter, you’d have seen me ranting the past two days about an even the Brewers are putting on called Brewed for Her. That event, in and of itself, doesn’t thrill me, but to each her own. Unfortunately for the Brewers, it’s not as simple as that and it made me ranty to the tune of about 3300 words.
I had planned to post my diatribe here, but was lucky enough to be able to post out to BrewCrewBall, the SBN Brewers blog I contribute to. While I know I’ve got my target audience of upset female sports fans here, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to try to enlighten a new group of folks. Nor could I pass up the chance that someone in the Brewers Org would see it.
I have been overwhelmed by the support (and lack of negativity) and kind words I’ve received from many corners of the internet since publishing this piece over there yesterday afternoon. I’d love to here from you ladyfolk that put up with this sort of thing on a regular basis, though.
The NHL is set to return to arenas and HDTVs everywhere next Saturday, just as soon as that shiny new CBA is ratified. If you think for a minute that this Lady is thrilled, you are sadly mistaken. Because no. Continue reading →
I’ve been MIA lately and for that I apologize. Since my last post, I’ve organized a husband’s birthday, ran my first half-marathon, camped in the rain overnight in the name of Girl Guides, booked Little Bee’s bowling birthday party, discovered hot yoga and watched my grandfather get married. And watched baseball. And drank a lot.
And here we are in mid-October and I am really, really freaking tired. And given how my Yankees have performed of late, really, really cranky. So here’s a few things I’ve been meaning to get off my chest: Continue reading →
Well it looks like I just might still be in mourning. It’s been a week. One whole week since my beloved – and favored – Capitals were eliminated in the Stanley Cup playoffs. My heart was, and still is, broken.
It’s times like this one when we realize that it’s great to be a well-rounded sports fan. When one season comes to a close, another is either in full bloom or just beginning. This year, that thought makes me even more depressed. Typically, when the NHL season ends, I put my focus on baseball. This year, I’m finding that pretty hard.
So on my commute home, I decided to play around on Twitter, where I stumbled across this gem. How to Get Your Girlfriend Into Sports.
Now, leaving aside that the obvious answer to this time-honored problem of being a sports nut partnered with someone who doesn’t enjoy the old athletic display is to just date someone who likes sports. God, men (and women) of the world, if sports are important enough that you have to condition your partner into liking them, FIND SOMEONE WHO ALREADY LIKES SPORTS. Your partner is not a puppy. Don’t train them like one. God.
Let’s address this nonsense point by point, shall we?
Still, what Major League Baseball needs is a great World Series, a Series for the ages. And with all due respect to those two other potential matchups, it’s a Yankees-Dodgers World Series that could take the game back to its roots at a time when baseball desperately needs to recover a portion of the trust, if not the innocence, that it has lost in the steroid era.
Look, we’re not naive. We know someone on every team, if not most uber-successful players, at least dabbled in PEDs. Ramirez was dumb enough to get caught, and Rodriguez was dumb enough to think that because MLB promised to destroy the 2004 test results they actually meant it. Ramirez served his time, and Rodriguez got to eat crow in front of the whole nation. It’s over.
But baseball needs to be saved from itself and the whole steroids mess with…a World Series featuring players who featured in two of the biggest steroid-related stories of the last twelve months? That makes the kind of sense that’s not.
You know what would save baseball from itself and the whole steroids debacle? A steroids testing and punishment program with teeth. A great series between teams who have figured out how to play small ball and long ball. Hell, just give me some good baseball.
But this? Laughable example of head-up-your-ass New York homerism at best, whitewashing the serious offenses of the steroid era at best.
I’d like to thank the Philadelphia Eagles for taking that one last step necessary to make this town a baseball town. Because no, we’re not okay with this, and we don’t understand.
Seriously, Mike Vick? Mike VICK? Mike ‘I am the scum of the earth and should rot’ Vick? And we’re supposed to be pleased about this? I just watched the local broadcast team try to justify this by saying that he’s going to bring a lot of athleticism to the offense and they can run the wildcat formation now, and no. Just no. In fact, I hate Hugh Douglas a little right now for trying to make me okay with this.
And the thing is, it doesn’t even make sense from a FOOTBALL perspective. Donovan falls apart the moment he even SNIFFS competition. Not that Vick’s much competition, because he’s been away from the game for what seems like forever. WHY? WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS?
My husband’s been a die-hard Eagles fan his entire sporting life. The man bleeds green and white. For the last decade, my entire social life on Sundays has revolved around making sure he’s in front of a TV with beef jerky and a bottle of Yuengling by the time the Eagles kick off. We have no social life during football season, because ‘But the game’s on’ is a valid excuse to get out of just about everything. He just turned to me, ashen-faced, and said ‘I don’t think I can root for the Eagles any more.’
Yeah, it’s like that. Me? I’m just pissed that Mike Vick gets to play in the same town as Chase Utley, who actually SAVES puppies.
The charges* filed against Steelers QB Ben Roethlisberger this weekend are serious, and in no way do the Ladies… condone such acts. Sexual violence is disgusting and pathetic, and should not be committed by anyone at any time. We doubt many of you would disagree.
One could also file a lawsuit against that shirt.
*If you haven’t heard, Big Ben faces counts of assault, sexual assault and batter, false imprisonment, false pretenses, fraud, and intentional infliction of emotional distress. Story here. If true…not cool, Ben.
HOWEVER, I couldn’t help but smirk at the line he allegedly laid down on the Harrah’s employee who filed the suit. Continue reading →
Sorry Dallas fans, this is by far my favorite Romo pic.
I am always conflicted about my feelings towards Tony Romo. I hate the Cowboys and I relish anytime he has a crappy game and they lose. However, as much as I try, I actually kind of like Romo. He seems like a genuinely decent guy. And I ALMOST feel bad for him at times. Of course never enough where I actually want to see him prove himself and win a playoff game. And God forbid, a Super Bowl. I shudder to think what the Cowboys fan base would turn into if they won six championships.
But this post isn’t about my love/hate relationship with Romo. This is about some of the ridiculous things Romo seems to do, including his latest decision.
We here at Ladies…love Twitter. There’s something kind of twisted and voyeuristic and slightly stalkerish about it that we just adore. (There’s also something to be said about the ability to roll our eyes at Ashton Kutcher in real time. Oh, admit it. You follow him, too. There are two million of us.)
Of course,there’s a downside to being a celebrity on Twitter. For one thing, everything you say can be turned around and announced in the mainstream media. (Newt Gingrich’s Tweet calling Judge Sonia Sotomayor a racist went from ill-advised tweet to conservative nutjob talking point almost immediately. Gossip sites ran with the announcement that John Mayer had *gasp* announced his breakup with Jennifer Aniston on Twitter.) There’s no privacy.
But then, there are the impostors. Ohhhhhh, there are impostors. For some ungodly reason, people amuse themselves by making up fake Twitter accounts and pretending to be celebrities. We don’t quite understand it, but some people will do anything for attention. (Just look at Spencer Pratt. Don’t worry, we hate ourselves for making that joke, and for knowing who he is in the first place.) Usually, a celebrity will catch wind of one of these accounts, sign up with their own account and declare that the impostors are fake. No harm done, takes about five minutes, everyone moves on, right?
Crane here, filling in for CuteSports. I apologize for the lateness of the hour, but hey, where I am, it’s technically still morning. This is what the Red Sox get for keeping the Blue Jays in third place over the weekend: You get to make fun of them!