With apologies to the Canadian residents among us, we are standing at the brink of not just a three day weekend, but a three day weekend of potentially epic sporting events. This includes at least one (and possibly two) Rangers-Devils playoff games, which means there is a Henrik Lundqvist picture in this post! Come look at the games you can stay up late to watch and not have to worry about being groggy at work the next day.
Ryan Lochte is ready for London. (Photo: Annie Leibovitz/Vogue)
Amirite? She’s photographed so many beautiful people in equally beautiful fashion. And surely she reads Ladies… and has noticed our affection for one Ryan Lochte, so she did this just for us. OF COURSE! Seriously, Annie, next time you shoot Ryan, call one of us. You could use an assistant, right? Yes, Annie, I’ll make Ryan wetter…
This photo is part of a spread for Vogue’s June issue in celebration of Team USA’s Olympic hopefuls, on newsstands May 22. But Vogue is crafty, and knew that by releasing these tasty photos we’d be snatching five copies apiece of this issue as soon as it makes its way to Wegmans and Shoppers Drug Mart (remember, I’m in Canada.)
Oh, but wait! There’s more! Continue reading
First I hyperventilated. Then I started to cry. Then I had the presence of mind to read the news and call Mr. Bee. And after that, I couldn’t get anything done at the office for a good 45 minutes. Friends, ANDY PETTITTE HAS COME OUT OF RETIREMENT TO SIGN A ONE-YEAR MINOR LEAGUE CONTRACT WITH THE YANKEES. Continue reading
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.
In most of the rest of this post, we'll forget he has a face, too.
Your 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.
* in some cases, we wish.
1) Your World Series MVP David Freese
Ladies, we have a new favourite on the blog to swoon over, and it’s this guy – yes, GM, we’ll wrestle you for him. David Freese also won the NLCS MVP, hit .397 in the postseason, broke a bunch of records, and came through in the clutch. But it’s his humble nature that teammates like Pujols and gals like us love.
But wait, there’s more in our treat bags…
Hallelujah! (Photo: Paul Sancya/AP)
News so fantastic, it had to announced in ALL CAPS without spaces between words and punctuated with THREE exclamation points: the stupid, stupid NFL lockout is officially OVER! Commence the planning of fantasy drafts and opening weekend tailgate spreads post haste.
Sorry, lovely readers, but my brain heard there was a three day weekend coming and decided to take off early. Please to enjoy this sampling of Jo-Wilifried Tsonga, surprise Wimbeldon semifinalist after his upset of Federer yesterday. Jo-Wilifried has previously appeared on Ladies… when I was desperate for a third French athlete to fill out the “three French men” in my Twelve Days of Christmas post a couple years ago; now he gets a post all to himself. You will not be disappointed.
The face that launched a thousand crushes in the 90s, including mine.
My post this week was originally supposed to be about the NHL Draft until Tuesday when I learned that JESUS LORD DOUG GILMOUR IS GOING TO THE HOCKEY HALL OF FAME!!!
You’re damn right that deserves to be written in all caps. Doug Gilmour is one of the biggest reasons I became a Leafs fan, although I admit that even when I was still hanging on to my childhood affection for the Canadiens, I already had a crush on Killer. What sane girl didn’t? And for that matter, what sane guy? Because there is no platonic man love like the love of a Leafs fan for Dougie Gilmour. Just ask Don Cherry once you get past the jump.
(Photo by Harry How/Getty Images)
Enjoy, Bruins fans. You deserve this.
The rotation that will haunt our dreams. (AP Photo)
High socks. Eye black. Dusty mounds. Cliff Lee. Baseball is back for reals, and we at Ladies… couldn’t be happier. Many of us have spent the last few days figuring out how to weasel out of whatever we’re going to be up to at the time our respective favorite teams are playing. Me? TWO HOUR MEETING when Mike Mussina throws the ceremonial first pitch at Yankee Stadium. How am I supposed to sneak my phone in to listen to the game? ARGH! (although Games Mistress told me there was lots of rain expected in New York Thursday, so I may get my wish after all.)
It’s Opening Day for these Ladies… faves. Let’s see what they’re up to today:
World Cup 2010 has officially kicked off! Did you catch the opening draw between host country South Africa and Mexico? Did you enter our Ladies… World Cup throwdown? Are you tired of that “Wavin’ Flag” song yet?
Better late than never, here are your Group D hotties beginning with Team Germany Continue reading
Chris Carpenter can report here anytime. (AP Photo/Jeff Roberson)
In between squeals of delight over Johnny Weir and the Norway curling team’s pants, we happened to notice that SPRING TRAINING IS UNDERWAY!
So by now, you may have seen this profile of Saints linebacker Scott Fujita.
If you’re me, you’ve now spent the last twenty minutes drawing hearts around his name while daydreaming about skipping through New Orleans hand-in hand and dispensing bon mots about social justice and equality.
Then again, if you’re a normal person, you thought ‘Huh, cool.’ and went on with your daily life.
Let’s just jot down the reasons why Scott Fujita is my new boyfriend who just doesn’t know it yet, shall we? Continue reading
Look, we know Pedro’s pitching in a half an hour and Game 2 of the World Series is coming up, but we can’t help it.
We’re watching this approximately for the approximately 11,849th time today.
Oh, Cliff Lee. I would hate you so much if you weren’t pitching for my team.
This past spring, I purchased via StubHub two tickets for Section 208 of Yankee Stadium for the September 11th game against the Orioles. As you recently learned, this would be my first live Major League ball game in more than 15 years, and my first ever Yankees game.
I had no idea at the time that I would be witness to a moment in Yankees history.
If you feel a wave of nausea washing over you, you may prefer to read this (and believe me, I agree – Mauer is more MVP-worthy). The rest of you can deal with my swooning after the jump.
I love the smell of nationalism in the morning.
I want to paint you a little picture, readers. You see, for the last eight years or so, I’ve spent Saturday mornings waking up, rolling downstairs, and flipping on Fox Soccer to watch the day’s matches while my husband made snide comments about soccer being lame and boring.
Tonight? My husband not only voluntarily turned on the Gold Cup SemiFinals, but I’m a little concerned he may actually lose his voice screaming in support of the US Men’s National Team in the CONCACAF Gold Cup Finals on Sunday. My victory is nearly complete. As soon as he picks a Premiere League team to root for (please, Jesus, not Chelsea), I can start openly celebrating his utter conversion.
That’s beside the point, dear readers. The point is that after many, many years and many, many attempts, soccer may just be on the verge of arriving in the US. Oh, sure, it’s because the men’s team is playing incredibly well right now, but I’ll take it.
I think it’s high time the Ladies… met the US Men’s National Team. Join me, after the jump, won’t you?
Considering there was quite a bit of baseball, golf and various forms of racing happening this weekend, I was super excited every time I sat in front of the TV and there was international soccer on both ESPN and ESPN2.
The Confederations Cup is going on in South Africa. This is a tournament that happens every four years, the year before the World Cup. It pits the previous WC Champion against the winners of the various FIFA Confederations. Wikidpedia gives us this handy chart:
| Team | Confederation | Qualification | Participation |
|---|---|---|---|
 South Africa |
CAF | 2010 FIFA World Cup host | 2nd |
 Italy |
UEFA | 2006 FIFA World Cup winners | 1st |
 United States |
CONCACAF | 2007 CONCACAF Gold Cup winners | 4th |
 Brazil |
CONMEBOL | Copa América 2007 winners | 6th |
 Iraq |
AFC | 2007 AFC Asian Cup winners | 1st |
 Egypt |
CAF | 2008 African Cup of Nations winners | 2nd |
 Spain |
UEFA | UEFA Euro 2008 winners | 1st |
 New Zealand |
OFC | 2008 OFC Nations Cup winners | 3rd |
So to celebrate , let’s check out some of the beautiful men who played the beautiful game this weekend.
It’s rivalry week here at Chez Sox. I’ve had the Sox v. Yanks games on, and have been alternately shouting and laughing at my TV. Everything that could possibly be picked up and thrown has been taken away from me, and the husband has been banished to his computer to listen to his big rivalry games, the Phils and the Mets. Suck it, New York, more or less.
I was going to write this big, magnanimous post about rivalries and how they’re good for the sport and good for the fanbase because a rivalry gives even the most casual fan something to talk about. I was going to be the bigger person and say that my mom is right (and not completely insane) when she says that she kind of likes the Yankees, because Sox/Yanks games are just bigger than the other 144 games for those of us who list our home address firmly in Red Sox Nation.
I was going to do all of that bigger person-type stuff, but the idea of saying anything nice about the Yankees fills me with utter, utter revulsion. I don’t have it in me. I can’t do it.
As luck would have it, I get to be the person who puts together our 1,000 post — even though, as the newest Lady, I’ve probably accounted for the smallest share of those 1,000. I feel like I should be giving a little speech, but you don’t really want to hear (or read) a speech, do you? You want to see our overall number one hottie.
When we started this countdown, each Lady was pretty much given free reign to pick whoever she wanted for her individual list, as I’m sure you noticed. The one rule we agreed on was that the overall number one hottie would be someone who wasn’t on any of the individual lists. If we hadn’t had that rule, you would have seen this particular gentleman’s picture at least four times in the past two weeks. He is well-loved in this corner of the Internet.
And now, the moment you’ve all been waiting for, presenting the Ladies Ultimate Hottie ….
Continue reading
To get today’s Sports Illustrated. Holy crap. I opened my mailbox and about swooned dead away on the spot to see Ryan Braun, Justin Upton and Troy Tulowitzki looking oh-so-adorable. Then I realized I could open the cover and find Jacoby Ellsbury, Clay Buchholz and Ryan Zimmerman. It’s like a centerfold for girls! Sigh. Troy Tulowitzki is so effing cute.
There was some pretty crazy shit happening last night in the Minnesota/Indiana game. In case you haven’t seen the highlights yet (there’s no way y’all saw it when the game was ACTUALLY on. I mean, 1) it’s Big Ten basketball and 2) it was on the Big Ten Network), what happened was this: DJ White went to the free throw line with Indiana down one point. He made the first one to tie it up, then bricked the second and GOT HIS OWN rebound and then got fouled. He again made 1 of 2 free throws to give Indiana a one-point lead with 1.5 seconds left. Minnesota then threw a baseball pass the length of the court and true freshman Blake Hoffarber chucked a sky hook up and in at the buzzer for a Minnesota one-point victory. Here is the video:
Here, dear readers, is our gift to you…suitable for framing, using as wrapping paper, or just licking until your tongue dries out. Click here for a big ‘un.
God bless ’em, every one.
I have a kind of tunnel vision when it comes to sports, and I wear it proudly. I have mountains to fling myself down in the spring and tennis to occupy me in the summer, but there’s nothing gets my blood going like the divine brutality that is football season. (What? Our god is a vengeful one. Look it up.)
During the offseason I spent an inordinate amount of time composing lists of ways to make baseball more compelling (“Article I: Infielders can tackle baserunners. Article II: But that’s fine and dandy, since the baserunners can take their bats with them.”), but not even Bacon Pants could ease the pain of the waiting game for me. Maybe if he’d taken a swing at the catcher’s dome.
So welcome back, fall. Welcome back, sunburn and frostbite and concussion hits. Welcome back, tailgating and GameDay and Coach O. Welcome back, blood season. Welcome back, football.
And, because this is Ladies…, after all, in honor of tonight’s SEC kickoff, look after the jump for some current and former LSU hotties in those tight yellow pants we so adore. Oh, and there’s a tiger. Rrrrrowwwr.
Continue reading
Today’s Hit and Run is all about the big dudes, so stock your fridge and don’t be surprised when you find canoe-sized shoes at the foot of your bed.
Ry Ho and Shane share a tender moment.
Let’s start with Ryan Howard’s walk-off two-run opposite field blast to lift the Fightins over the Mets 4-2. (Yes, I know Metsy started with a Phillies item yesterday, but it’s my Hit and Run, I’ll do what I want!) I was there for last night’s game and to say the mood in the CBP was euphoric would be an understatement of the highest degree. I high-fived people I’d never met and I heckled a group of kid Mets fans. It was fabulous.
Before the game, I hung over the bullpen railing and watched Tom Glavine warm up. (I refuse to hear you say I’m a turncoat. How many times in your life do you get to watch a 300-game winner warm up from 15 yards away?) Dude is INTENSE. From where I was sitting, it looked like he p4wned the Phillies over seven strong innings, but according to the NYT’s article about the game, he was gassed: “Glavine scattered eight singles in seven scoreless innings but had thrown 102 stressful pitches, he said, and could not go out to start the eighth.”
Need a little bit more excitement and entertainment for your All-Star game party?
Well we here at Ladies believe that even the most casual of fan should be able to have some fun watching the Midsummer Classic, so we’ve whipped up some All-Star Bingo Cards! No need to try to keep track of pitching changes when you can look for Big Papi to point to the sky, Alyssa Milano in the stands, and players adjusting their junk instead. We’ve got your American League, National League, and Interleague Bingo all here! Continue reading
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.
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.
Holly’s Manning Disclaimer: I’m a Tennessee alum from a family of Colts fans. I love Peyton Manning. Love him. I have a Peyton Fathead on my bedroom wall. When he shows up in Knoxville for a charity event or a game, it’s like Elvis, Oprah, and Jesus Christ are in town. That’s just how I was raised, and there’s no deterring me. You’ve been warned. There’s still time to turn back before the jump.
Saturday Night Live airs way past my bedtime (my mind and heart apparently still belong to the East Coast), and I had to get up early this morning to watch our girls make mincemeat out of Marist. This is all by way of saying I’m unable to form any more complete sentences this morning, so please enjoy my notes from last night’s SNL, drunk typos intact, in convenient backwards livebloggy form:
Ladies... 
