Never thought I’d ever see NBA Champion Denver Nuggets

Originally, when I thought about writing about the Denver Nuggets, it was contingent that they actually won the NBA Championship before anything would be written about them.  I was going to write about being a millennial and seeing the strange sensation of seeing certain teams in major sports break through the wall of success and win a championship. 

But the more I did some cursory research on the history books, at least as far as being a millennial goes, MLB and the NFL doesn’t have nearly the parity as the NBA has had throughout, at least my lifetime.  Which is really strange to say about the NBA having parity, considering the seeming dynasties that have run rampant throughout my own lifetime, with the Bulls, Lakers, Spurs and Warriors all winning a ton of championships, but at the same time, the NBA has had more teams squirt through the cracks of history and win a championship, and break streaks of franchises to never be champions before.

Growing up, the NBA really was my first love as far as sports fandom went.  I was a big Knicks fan, but also a supporter of the Washington Bullets, and whenever the Knicks were bounced by the Chicago Bulls, I’d typically prefer to see them win over whoever emerged from the West.

That being said, during my own upbringing as an NBA fan, there were always certain teams that were always the doormats and/or the laughing stocks of the NBA.  The teams we never, ever wanted to play in a video game, the teams we always went ballistic whenever our favorite teams ever lost to them, if it ever happened, and the teams that were always forgotten about whenever talking about the league in general.

During this time, some of those teams were the Warriors, the Bucks, the Mavs, Cavs and of course, the Denver Nuggets.  Sure, at various points, some of those teams had some fairly successful seasons as far as win percentages go, but they were still never serious threats to win championships, usually being fodder for the Bulls, Lakers, Pistons and the Rockets.

I remember how weird it seemed when the Spurs broke through the glass ceiling and won their first championship.  I was resentful because I was a Knicks fan, and I chalked up the Spurs’ win to being a lockout shortened year, and how it shouldn’t really count.  But then they’d go on to win several more championships over the next decade, and truly cementing themselves as one of the all-time great teams.

The same could be said of when the Miami Heat broke into the upper echelon, even before LeBron James took his talents to South Beach and won two more championships, and the same was said when the Golden State Warriors not only reached the top of the mountain, they built a house on top of it, winning four championships and basically living in the NBA Finals for the better part of a decade.

However, aside from the teams that grew into dynasties, regardless of my casual, and only during the playoffs interest in the NBA, I’m always fascinated by the teams that sneak out a championship, seemingly, to me, out of nowhere.  Especially when they’re one of the teams that I grew up thinking would never, ever, in a million years, see a championship ascension, regardless that on a long enough timeline, everyone eventually has to win one of these days.

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Anthony Bass DFA’d LOL

Often times in the world of sport, there are personalities that are less than savory, but no matter how much of an asshole these guys can be, they always have a job because they’re exceptionally good at playing children’s games in front of large crowds without crumbling to the pressure of performing.

Roger Clemens had an affair with a minor.  Kobe Bryant allegedly raped a woman.  Ray Lewis stabbed a guy to death.  And all went on to have hall of fame careers, with nary a punishment in sight.  Far too often, professional athletes can be shitheads but still have jobs because of the fact that they’re good at sports.

Anthony Bass is no stranger to the brog, in fact showing up just a few weeks ago when I had an opinion on his last escapade with United Airlines, involving his wife and kids on a flight, and her being asked to clean up after her kids in spite of being pregnant.  But no matter how divisive and viral their story went, when the day was over, Anthony Bass was continuing to pitch for the Toronto Blue Jays and making a lot of money.

I apparently missed it because I hardly pay much attention to anything beyond my kids these days, but apparently Bass is not a fan of the team he plays for’s support of the LGBTQ+ community and the team’s participation in hosting a Pride Night.  No surprise there, the players themselves are not beholden to the beliefs and supports (genuine or corporately forced) of the organizations they play for.  And a large portion of professional athletes are often times a bunch of rednecks whom shouldn’t be any surprise to not be a fan of woke culture and anything remotely leaning left.

But most players are typically smart enough to keep their opinions to themselves, because anyone with a brain knows that the activities and matters that pertain to the people in the stands has no bearing of what happens on the field.  Just because it’s a Pride Night at the Rogers Centre or Dodger Stadium or Wrigley Field doesn’t mean that the gays are allowed to get on the field and try to tackle base runners as they’re rounding third, but that doesn’t stop less-intelligent players from mouthing off and jeopardizing their livelihoods in the process.

So it’s no surprise that a guy like Anthony Bass isn’t a fan of the gays, in spite of the extremely likely jock behavior he’s probably done in a locker room that would easily constitute gay shit, and considering his bright idea to spout off on social media about his wife’s United Airlines escapades, he didn’t miss the opportunity to be quoted for speaking against the team’s intention of hosting a Pride Night.

At first, he was kind of expected to apologize and retract, and the team decided to try and have him be the catcher of the ceremonial first pitch, which undoubtedly would have been thrown by someone from the LGBTQ+ community, to which Bass flat out refused to participate in.  I imagine a bozo like him refused not because of the defiance of being told what to do, but probably because he didn’t want to be the literal and metaphorical catcher with a gay person.

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An $80,000 Volkswagen Golf LOL

I’ve always been a fan of the VW Golf, or as the hipster in me still likes to refer to them as Rabbits.  The boy racer that I once pretended like I was loved their versatility, tunability, the hatchback experience, and their general performance for a car that was the slightly more upscale alternative to the Honda fandom.  The only thing that ever prevented me from ever owning my own was simply the fact that I just couldn’t ever afford to get a Volkswagen, because whenever I’d been in the market for a car, they were always at a price point that I didn’t feel comfortable committing to.

And then I read this story about a super-limited edition Golf going to be released, to where only 333 will be produced, a pithy number as if they thought they were Bugatti or Lamborghini or something, will be a sickly-looking greenish yellow and will cost roughly the equivalent of $80,000 USD, and I roll my eyes and come to the conclusion that I will probably never own a Golf in my life, and think about how the car and its branding have seemingly grown a little too big for its britches.

Much like the Honda Civic, the VW Golf has long since strayed from its general position in their respective automotive lineups.  Originally the economical, entry-level compact options for their makers, both of them have grown up substantially with the generations and have turned into ridiculously expensive budget sport cars where honestly, their name is more valuable than the sum of the parts that they’re composed of.

But $80k is absurd.  Asinine.  Completely ridiculous and out of touch.  I wasn’t a fan of Honda finally bringing the Civic Type-R to America, only to turbo charge it and slap a $45k price tag on it, but at least it’s not an $80,000 Golf.

$80K is like Supra territory.  Numerous BMW and Mercedes options.  The price point of importing a R32 Nissan Skyline and taking care of all associated costs and maintenance.  Nearly double of what my car cost for 1/3 of the capacity and utility.  Nearly double the cost of the Audi that I would much rather have.  Hell, it’s nearly double the cost of the R32 Golf which was already the super version of the Golf, and for what?  19 extra horsepower, that most people wouldn’t be able to legally capitalize without breaking the law?

And all for a Volkswagen Golf.  The econobox hatchback that was every person my age’s first car type of car.  No fucking thanks, although I will be interested the kinds of schmucks out there who will inevitably hoover up these 333 krauts.  I can only imagine the wildly varied types of bullshit they’ll tell themselves and others to justify dropping $80k on a gaudy fluffed out Golf.

The Galactic Starcruiser experience shutting down pleases me

Surprise, surprise: there aren’t as many people willing to plunk down nearly $5,000 for two days, to live out Star Wars fantasies, as Disney decides to shutter the Galactic Starcruiser experience in September

I like to think that this was some convoluted experiment by Disney, in seeing just how far they could push a price tag before it actually proves to be insurmountable by even the richest of the privileged class.  And it appears that they’ve found their answer with the Galactic Starcruiser, and that roughly $1,200 per person per night for a two-night experience seems to have found that breaking point where they just can’t swindle enough people in order to remain open.

Now I like Star Wars, even though my fandom has been put through the ringer throughout the passage of time and the growth of the internet.  Sure, my fandom has been disrespected, invalidated and questioned by the smarmy segments of fans that feel the requirement to test the level of interest, and the internet has more than opened my eyes to just how shitty and insufferable the base majority of Star Wars fans are, but there’s no level of dedication to the property I could achieve to where I would think it was a good idea to drop nearly $5k in order for mythical wife and I to have a two day LARP in the world of Star Wars.

All through the journey of speculation, development and execution of the whole Galactic Starcruiser idea, it was pretty early revealed that this was something that really only those with the deepest of pockets would be able to partake in.  And when stuff like this is priced out of oblivion for the rest of the, well world, I begin to feel resentment towards it, so it makes me feel smug satisfaction to hear that Disney is pulling the plug on it, in such short order.

At the same time, I feel more disdain for the Mouse at not just, lowering prices, and making the whole thing a little more attainable for the rest of us pleebs, because if it weren’t more than my property taxes, I’d probably be interested.  The idea of shuttering it versus lowering the prices is an egregious act of arrogance of the biggest asshole variety that really could only come from the money printer known as Disney.

But when it really comes down to it, good riddance to an experience that really was catering to the 1%, and it’s very amusing that even the 1% reached their limits with this whole idea, to where even a company that’s so adept at glorifying their wins and hiding their weaknesses like Disney, to have such a public and monumental L on display.

Because as an annual passholder, I can say all this shit, because nobody hates Disney more than their annual passholders.

Of course the Braves had to sell their jerseys too

When it comes to clowning on the stupid shit that happens in professional sports, nobody is exempt, especially the teams that I say that I am a fan of.  After all, nobody hates X more than fans of X, so when the Mets were getting dunked on for their ludicrously large sponsorship patches on their jerseys, it wasn’t because they were the Mets, I would’ve done the same to absolutely anybody.

Which brings us to the Braves, who have also jumped aboard the sponsorship patch train, because they clearly need the money; $588 million in revenue in 2022 barely covered the spike in the cost of eggs that occurred.  And much like the Mets who sold their jersey sleeves to a local entity, the Braves sold their sleeves to an Atlanta company, Quikrete, which is among the leaders of the entire concrete industry in the western hemisphere.

But not only did they sell their sleeves to Quikrete, they also did exactly what the Mets did, at first: not really consider just how ridiculously large the sponsorship patch would actually be on their sleeves.  I mean seriously, the patch is maybe a 25% size increase from being the primary logo on the entire fucking jersey, and the Braves would become the first franchise in baseball to go the route of futbol, and have the chief sponsor be the biggest focal point of the jersey, even over the team’s name or city.

I don’t know how many people reading this (zero) have any understanding of embroidery or any experience with it, but it’s tremendously difficult to engrain any sort of details in embroidery.  That being said, Quikrete’s likely insistence that their logo look like it was on one of their signature yellow bags of concrete probably explains why it’s so fucking huge; in order for the tiny little wrinkles to show on the corners of the bag that help make it look like a bag of concrete are the reason why the whole thing has to be the size of an actual bag of concrete, making their logo shout louder than a MARTA rider hoping to avoid the post-Taylor Swift concert rush.

Either way, my theories about how the patches might affect player performance for the Mets now also apply to the Braves.  And considering the Mets’ performance was pretty pitiful, and the fact that they relented and actually redesigned their sponsor logo, let’s hope the Braves wizen up a little bit sooner than the Mets did before their nice little cushion they’ve build in the National League disintegrates.

Speaking of which, among the best slams on the internet to emerge from the mass-dunking on the Braves for selling out, was this particular gem that I chuckled heartily at:

Right to the jugular.  Good job Barves, for never straying too far from the need to be greedy.

Subject line: In-Office Schedule

When I saw that subject line in an office memo that came out, I knew exactly what it was going to be about.  And sure as shit, starting in August, my company is now going to four days in-office, one day remote.  Rather one day “flex,” which all but guarantees that 90% of the people who have it as a flex day won’t be coming into the office.  I know that my ass will never be coming into the office on a flex day, unless I directly told that I had to.

When I started with my company, we were still full-remote, since pretty much the whole world was still operating full-remote at the time.  It wasn’t until about April of 2022 that we were brought back to the office, and at that time, it was Monday and Wednesday in-office, Thursday being a flex day, and Tuesday and Friday being remote.  This was a good way to ease people into coming back to the office, and seeing as how my now new office had a gym that I could work out at, I relished in the opportunity to go hit the weights again, even if it meant having to come into the office again.

That being said, I came into the office on most Thursdays, despite it being flex, because it was more conducive to a workout schedule, and it turned out that I was getting more work done in the office, because at that time, my childcare situation was still an abyss of flakes prior to getting an au pair.  It also didn’t hurt that upper management acknowledged that I was present on Thursdays, which is always a plus to get brownie points from superiors.

Eventually, Tuesdays were deemed mandatory office days, with Thursdays remaining flex, and Friday being remote, which is where I’m at now.  It’s definitely a step in the wrong direction as far as personal comfort goes, because my exercise weeks are front-loaded since I’m going into the office M-W, meaning my cardio days are Thursdays and unfortunately on Saturdays too to ensure I’m running at least twice a week.  First world problems, I know, but the main thing is that the weeks now feel longer with three consecutive mandatory office days, and by the time Thursday rolls around, there’s a zero percent chance that I’m going to actually flex into the office on those days.

And as of August, it’ll be four days in the office, with Friday being the lone day where we can work from home.  I would wager money that by no later than January 2, 2024, my company will be five days in the office again, with the lone incentive to try and seem humanitarian will be a degree of leniency with working from home in the event of sickness or logical reasoning.

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LOL’d: Zuck the grappler

TIL: Mark Zuckerberg has gotten into Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, and has become competent enough to win medals at a local event, against adults

Color me surprised at this one.  Seeing the words “Mark Zuckerberg” and “Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu”  together was enough for me to try and learn more, but let’s be real here.  Nobody wants to see Zuck actually win in BJJ, most people like me want to see him get wrapped up and tap out, and keep the status quo of him being an entitled rich dork, but still completely out of his element when it comes to anything at all involving physical activity.

And the first story I came across, Zuck isn’t exactly the next GSP in the making, but the fact that he didn’t tap out, and didn’t technically lose in the video I watched, showed that perhaps he’s not a complete hopeless invalid when it comes to getting physical.  And for the record, he was going up against actual grown men, and not the kindergarteners we’d expect someone of his hypothetical physical competency should be paired up with.

Supposedly, he won two medals at this event, and I was a mixture of, “okay, so Zuck isn’t terrible at it, I guess having all the money in the world has been able to buy him some competency” and disappointed at not seeing him get twisted into a pretzel and tap out like Tank Abbott.  And the very obvious curiosity if he’s paying opponents to lay down in order to make him look good because he can definitely afford it.

But later in the afternoon, a friend of mine shared another link, from supposedly the same event, where Zuck loses a decision, but then is shown arguing and complaining to the official after the match, and as the story went, he apparently was able to get the decision reversed, and basically got another chance to compete again, to where he was able to then claim some sort of success and was rewarded with some medals.

And this is was the story and narrative that I was hoping to see and hear, where now Zuck really isn’t as good as the first and obviously cherry-picked story had him placed, and he needs to complain and whine like the spoiled entitled rich white asshole everyone thinks he is in order to attain a level of success.

I think the best part of the second video is the amount of attention Zuck’s fight was getting mainly because it was Zuck, and based on the reaction of everyone cheering on the other guy, it’s evident that even the people there were all hoping for the same result as I was; to see Zuck lose. 

The guy might have more money than many countries’ GDPs, but all the money in the world can’t buy him the amount of BJJ success as he’s hoping to attain.