Time for my homer pick! Apparently Eric Hosmer has only been mentioned on this site one time in history, and it was when he was too young for the Ladies… to officially think he was attractive. Life sucked then. But this is now, so let’s DO THIS.
Pat Burrell is retiring, which means this site now has to exist in a world without him. Ladies… without Burrell is like Seinfeld without Jerry, like a flower without petals, like Grady Sizemore without that one coffee cup. Just…totally naked, but in like a really sad way.
According to Google, the Ladies… have written about Pat Burrell 118 times. By no means is that the most we’ve ever covered a hottie of sport (paging Tom Brady, Ryan Lochte, etc.), but he is a part of the very fiber of our collective heart nonetheless.
Stat-nerds have been falling all over themselves in adoration of Franklin Gutierrez’s astounding CF defense, which is so stunningly awesome that the Mariners are hanging on to him for four more years. But don’t leave the F-Gut lovin’ to the statheads* – he’s someone the Ladies… can appreciate as well. Behold:
*I, much like Crane, proudly belong to that set of people. Give me FanGraphs or give me death!
Earlier this week, The Ladies…held their fantasy football league draft. I couldn’t make it, as I was busy shoveling fondue into my face at dinner with my lovely husband. I let the drafting system autodraft my team, and…let’s just say that I don’t suggest doing that. Somehow I have six quarterbacks (if you can call Kyle Orton a quarterback at this point, which I don’t) and one defense. The fact that said defense is Miami is making me consider spending the entirety of the season drinking heavily, because I am so screwed.
Lesson learned: Draft your fantasy football team first. Then celebrate your wedding anniversary.
Anyway, we here at The Ladies… wouldn’t be The Ladies… if we didn’t bring you a little objectfication along with your football. We decided to pick the hottest members of our own teams, and to bring some lovely photographic evidence to you. You know, because we care. Abs, sweat, and football hotness after the jump.
In these steamy, sweltering days of summer, what’s better on a hot day than some baseball and a Brew(er)?
After the jump, a 19-pack of Brewer tallboys.
When we announced “The Hot Blogger Bracket: A call to arms. And abs.“, in our wildest dreams we could not have hoped for such a response. Not only were we overwhelmed by the sheer number of you who answered our call, we have been completely swept away by talent in all of the tournament entries.
Quite simply, you guys are amazing.
Now comes the hard part.
Jonathan Pyle of Pyle of List has gone completely off-the-rails and undetaken the dangerous and often frightening endeavor of interviewing various “mid-major” bloggers from around the interwebs. One of his first stops is with the Ladies… (natch), intending to do a great Lady Algonquin Round Table. However, the awesomeness of eight Ladies could not be contained in one post (or even two or three posts), so instead: Fridays are Ladies’ Day at Pyle of List! He kicked it off yesterday with an enlightening introductory narrative, envisioning the blogosphere as a row of fraternity and sorority houses at Ebays University. (EU for short. Say it out loud, I’ll wait).
Friday morning I had my car packed and ready; I practically had it sitting outside my classroom building with the door open and the engine running. As soon as I finished a final, I was off for the Windy City. I put the iPod on the Country playlist (old school country, none of this faux-country crap) and I made it to downtown Chicago in excellent time. I was staying at the same hotel as Mr. Deadspin himself (I know! It’s like staying at the same hotel as The Beatles!), so we cabbed it out to Schaller’s Pump together around 2:00 pm. Also, I need to be upfront about this on the front page of the article: Will, I’m sorry I’ve been pronouncing your name wrong all this time. You’re right, it’s like the blood-sucking parasite. I looked it up: it’s Scottish, not German. Sorry Will.
Bracket season has come and gone. The draft was ten years ago in internets time. What’s a number-crunching sports fan to do?
Never fear. The Ladies… proudly present: The 2007 Hot Blogger Bracket!
How This Will Work:
1. You have to be a guy. (Sorry, girls; for objectification of the fairer sex we direct you to the majority of our compatriots in the sidebar.)
2. You have to run or contribute substantially to a sports blog. (Exactly what constitutes “substantial” will be determined on a case-by-case basis by the Ladies…, and not open to appeals.)
3. You will submit one (1) recent photo, of you, in focus, that gives a good look at your face and any other assets you wish to emphasize, and one (1) link to a post you feel best represents your superiority as a writer.
4. The Ladies… will spend what’s sure to be a delightful few days judging your sweet asses, and come up with a field, the size of which will be a multiple of four and determined by the quantity and quality of entries.
5. We’ll post our choices in bracket form, and here’s where the real fun begins. Voting for each round will take a couple days. Cheating, shenanigans, and ballot-stuffing are encouraged, especially if they’re undertaken in a blatant and hilarious manner. We remind all entrants that we are susceptible to flattery.
6. Repeat as needed until the champion emerges, to be showered with florid prose (by us) and mocked roundly (by the losers) until next year. Given proper incentive, we may even scare up a couple prizes.
And that’s it. Please direct all submissions to email@example.com. You have until 11:59 PM PDT, Friday, May 11.
*(subject to change without notice at our whim. girls are fickle. affirmed.)
Now here the Penguins are, down 3-1 to the Senators with Game Five back in Ottawa tomorrow night. Things are not looking good. 0-5 on the power play last night. One of the young up-and-comers, Erik Christensen, benched. SI and MondesisHouse taking out “Missing” ads for for Malkin.
Thank goodness for Jordan Staal, for his strength, for his scoring, and for his habit that I always find hot with hockey players – chewing on his mouth guard.
THIS IS WHY I’M HOT
If only, Shanno, if only.
I should have known Opening Night of the Phillies’ 2007 season was going to be a soul-crusher before I even took my seat. While I was waiting for my friend Judy to arrive, I could hear the strains of Josh Groban crooning “You Raise Me Up” on the PA system outside Citizens Bank Park.
Not a good sign.
Along with the dubious choice of musical accompaniment, it was a damp, chilly 46 degree night, the first of the Phillies’ many College Night promotions, and the first Dollar Dog Night of the season. Combine those three factors with the Atlanta Braves, a team Phillies fans love to hate, and you have the recipe for an outrageous night of baseball.
A sudden pride in a school that not only did you not attend, but you didn’t even consider it as a “safety”. Days on end of not leaving the sofa. Going from hating Dickie V, to thinking of calling him grandpa, back to cursing his bald head, finally ending at acceptance that you’re both at the same party and since neither one of you are leaving it would be best to just ignore him as much as you can.
The best two parts of the tourney? Rampant gambling in the form of office pools and the endless hours of smack talk.
Which means the Ladies day has come.
We have challenged the the Men of KissingSuzyKolber to participate in a battle of the sexes NCAA tourney pool. Winner gets to take over the loser’s site for the day.
Imagine, a whole day on KSK talking about The Joy Luck Club, our WNBA picks, the hot men of Australian Rules Football, “What the 19th Amendment means to me”, and kicker penises. An entire day without a single homophobic reference. The day we’ve been saving our “How to make slippers out of MaxiPads” post for. A day on KSK where Peyton Manning and Ben Roethlisberger are shown some respect. A beautiful, sweet day that will be.
Our picks don’t matter until tomorrow, so we have all day to do some trash talking about the KSK Mafia. Let’s see what’s buzzing in the Ladies office…
Our occasional series spotlighting the most delicious of the NHL’s hotties continues as we admire the Atlantic Division.
Join Clare as she rhapsodizes about crooked noses, broken teeth and shiners.
When the Ladies… first conceived this site, one of our starting points was a discussion of the most delectable men in sports. One thing led to another (we do love saying that), the lovely J-Money whipped up our beautiful art (don’t stare too long; you’ll go blind), and here we have our first shrine to some of the sweetest eye-candy in America.
We paw at each individual snacktreat after the jump. Don’t go spoiling your dinner, now…
We request that you buy as many of these as you can reasonably afford, that this darling boy might continue to make pretty things for us at our every whim. The Ladies… would like to take this moment to officially endorse the work of twoeightnine, who is all kinds of genius and also smells nice.
Silliest baseball sports crush ever. I mean really awful. Worse than my secret loves for Randy Johnson (Tall! And smart!), Jeff Bagwell (Those forearms! The red hair! ), and Jose Canseco (Big!). For some reason, that summer of 1997 I totally was in <heart> with Pirates pitcher Marc Wilkins.Maybe it was his blue eyes, round face, and the slight bit of chub he carried around that did for me that summer of 1997. Maybe it was because the Pirates finished just under .500 that season, but he was 9-5 with 2 saves. Maybe it was because someone told me I could totally “get him”. (I was younger and definitely dumber ten years ago, so the latter was probably the case.)
Hello and welcome to the first installment of what will hopefully become a regular feature here, Homer Hotties. This is where one of the Ladies… will sing the praises, ogle the assets, and generally drool over someone from one of her teams. This inaugural article is going to feature one of my beloved Iowa Hawkeyes, Adam Haluska.
When we saw the photo of Captain Caveman at the Super Bowl, our first thought was, “THE DAYSTAR! IT BURNS! AVERT YOUR EYES!” Our second thought: “How did the Cryptkeeper get a press pass?” But once our eyes adjusted to the brilliance, we realized that it wasn’t white light searing our skin, but white heat.
Meet our particular notion of What A Man Should Be, a standard to which all men we meet will be held against and found wanting. Service to his country? Check. Sports acumen? Check. Way with words? Check, and how. Don’t be fooled by his clean, non-threatening good looks, either. We hear he’s a hellcat in the sack.
It all comes back around to Namath sooner or later, doesn’t it? He’s the Kevin Bacon of the sports blogosphere. Does this make CC our Suzy Kolber? We suppose. Only hotter. Captain Caveman, we salute you.