LeBrowned

When I was a kid doing a lot of growing up in the 90s, Charles Barkley was one of my favorite players.  I loved that he was this kind of undersized, pudgy bald guy that still dominated the power forward position with an innate ability to both score and rebound.  But I also loved that he was an outspoken rebel of some sort, in an era where MJ, Magic and David Robinson were these saints of positive PR, regardless of how trite and scripted it might have sounded.

But now that I’m all old and shit now, Charles Barkley is still a guy that I’ve always enjoyed, and I have to give him credit for managing to be known and relevant to this day, despite the fact that he stopped playing nearly two decades ago by now.  Whether it’s ragging on referee Dick Bavetta to the point where they actually had a televised foot race during halftime at a game, to randomly showing up on a variety of internet videos celebrating his gluttony or paying him to try and shoot three-pointers while inebriated, to his endless criticisms of today’s players compared to the guys of his playing days, Sir Charles has inexplicably managed to stay relevant for years.

It’s the latter that has occurred at such a frequency that Barkley’s been crossing and leaving behind the line that divides him as a tough guy from an era long past, to sounding like a bitter old man, seemingly jealous of the evolved athleticism of today’s game compared to when he played.  To some degree, I agree that it’s a different game, a little softer than it used to be, with personalities rampaging way out of control in comparison, but it’s also a whole different world surrounding the game as well, and everything is related in the broader picture.

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NXT Bobby Roode: All entrance, no substance

I watched NXT TakeOver: Dallas the other night, and it was the first time I’d ever gotten to tune into an NXT TakeOver event. I was really looking forward to it, as throughout the last two years, NXT events have developed somewhat of a reputation of being hands and down better than the “upgraded” WWE level content, not to mention the fact that I was getting to spend an evening with some friends that I hadn’t seen in quite some time.

After the show was over, and Bobby Roode was anointed the new NXT champion (oh… spoiler alert), I couldn’t help but feel this massive sense of dissatisfaction at the show as a whole.  The current NXT roster is stacked full of former TNA and Ring of Honor expats, which isn’t necessarily always a bad thing in some cases, but it’s straying from the idea of homegrown talent and creating stars out of basically nothing.

I’m still not convinced that either Eric Young or Roderick Strong can succeed, much less make it to the main roster in spite of their wealth of combined experience in TNA and/or Ring of Honor.  The women’s division, which was revered as one of the crown jewels of the organization was represented by a pathetic match featuring champion Asuka, versus basically three green chicks that were basically two Eva Maries and an inexperienced Molly Holly.  Needless to say, my power of prediction was as sharp as it’s ever been when it comes to watching wrestling, and simply just by understanding the rhythm and politics of the WWE, was still able to accurately predict and nail just about every single one of the matches throughout TakeOver: Dallas.

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Fuck, politics

I’ve made no secret that I don’t particularly care about writing about politics.  But it’s gotten to a point where I can’t go anywhere, turn to any channel, open up a browser or look at Facebook without there being mention of politics.  I’m getting to the point where I don’t want to seek out the news and or look at social media, because I just know that all people are going to be reporting on or talking about is what’s going on in the political scene, and it’s going to again bring that surreal feeling that this is truly reality, and will be for the unforeseeable future.

At the time I’m writing this, I’m back in Virginia, visiting my parents, on what is admittedly not a leisure trip in the least.  That being said, I really could use some distractions from what’s going on in my life and my family, and hope that others out there are doing more positive things in theirs.  But nope, people are using social media to vent about their disdain towards all of the seemingly asinine thing that are happening at such a breakneck pace, and I’m asking myself if the headlines that I’m being exposed to are actually real.

But then I turn on a television or walk past a screen showing the news, and the same types of headlines are being broadcast to larger audiences outside of my Facebook feeds.  Healthcare being repealed.  Women’s rights to be seemingly reduced.  Christians to receive priority about all other foreigners seeking entry to America.  A fucking wall to divide the United States from Mexico.

Seriously, how are these headlines factual in the year two thousand and seventeen?

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One of those days

Typically, I operate under the adage that if there’s nothing good to say, don’t say anything at all.  However, I also operate under the adage that life is not always peaches and cream and that I am not having a good time, I have every right to state my disdain if I fucking feel like it.

Today is definitely one of those latter days, and the world and everyone in it can go fuck off.

I need to stop assuming everyone has as much common sense as me, because that always, always leads to nothing but disappointment.  And disappointment is like a greasy residue that makes everything easier to slide downhill, real fast.

Respect is earned or the beatings continue

I told myself that I wouldn’t write anything about Superb Owl Lee until it was over, because I am the controller of the entire universe and the words I choose to put onto a brog post will guarantee control the entire outcome of the game.  But I’m in a little bit of a rut lately, and there are few things that help get me out of a rut than writing about sports.  Not to mention that every now and then, I’ll come across something that I guess the correct response would be that it triggers something of an emotional synapse where I feel that words typed out is the appropriate reaction.

But every now and then whenever the Atlanta Falcons, or any Atlanta-based sports team, but mostly the Falcons, find a modicum of success, they inevitably become motivation for some bigwig sports writer to take a cheap shot at not just the team, but inevitably the city itself, along with all of its denizens.  That Atlanta teams are all pretenders, have yet to win anything (except them ’95 Braves!), and then that the fans are all fair-weathered bandwagon riders that only cheer for winners when they’re not going bonkers over college football.  That Atlanta is the worse sports town in America.  That Atlanta is pretty much the new Cleveland when it comes to sports championship droughts.

None of these allegations are incorrect, but they’re revisited and flung around so many times that they’re completely unoriginal and stated so many times that the only appropriate response is usually “you’re right, what’s your point” with an annoyed eye roll.

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Sarcastic optimism

So I’m catching bits of pieces of the inauguration throughout inauguration day; how Trump’s crowds are minuscule compared to the crowds of people who showed up for Barack Obama in 2009, how in spite of notion that minorities aren’t safe in Trump-merica, minorities are  still out amongst the crowds because people are vapid and narcissistic and just want to be seen at major events, and how along the outskirts of the inauguration there is strife, where people are smashing windows and police and Bikers for Trump are dealing with unruly demonstrators.

Despite the very surreal feeling that this is what the United States of America is coming to, when the day is over, I really don’t care that much.  Yes, the country is divided to a degree that I’d never seen, in my lifetime, but I want to continue to believe that we can get along with anyone, as long as we can respect one another in spite of our political leanings. 

Now that that sappy cheese is out of the way now, what spurned this brog post was the fact that I caught some of the inauguration whilst at the gym, since watching TV screens is one of the chief ways to distract the mind from how much running sucks, especially while on a treadmill, and I couldn’t help but notice Melania Trump, the now, First Lady, officially.  She emerged onto the screens wearing this uncharacteristically bulky overcoat/dress thingy that was a stark contrast to the bold shades of basic-colored dresses that accentuated the body that used to be in Sports Illustrated’s swimsuit edition.  Instead, she looked like, and the comparisons were not lost to anyone who knew a modicum of U.S. history, like Jackie Kennedy.

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Ignorant, but undeniably delicious

LOL’d: Texas restaurant under fire for offering up a Martin Luther King, Jr. Day special consisting of chicken, waffles and watermelon

Honestly, I don’t really care when people make the frantic claims that they’re not racist when they’ve done something that can be construed as being racist.  In the case of this lady out in the middle of the sticks in Azle, Texas, I’d probably chalk her up as being someone who probably isn’t racist, but simply ignorant about black people in general.

The fact that she didn’t seem to realize that offering up chicken and waffles with a side of watermelon was about as easy as a layup to construe as being racist seems to indicate more ignorance rather than malice; unless she’s playing us all as fools, is very much aware, very much racist, and understands that a little bit of a racial fire all it takes to weather out a storm on the internet, but flourish in business from all the free advertising that bad press, which is still press, provides them, on the news.

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