Sports sadness

Baseball is making me sad right now, and I don’t have anyone to really discuss it, nor does anyone really want to listen.  Not because the Atlanta Braves are on the verge of a pretty monumental collapse, having allowed a supposed insurmountable lead for the final playoff spot disintegrate completely, boiling down to a showdown tomorrow, or rather later on tonight, on the regular season’s final day.  That disappoints me, but I understand that defeat happens, and losing is a part of sport.  Whether it’s a historic collapse, or a triumphant comeback, there’s winners and losers.

What makes me sad right now is all the negativity surrounding the circumstances.

I know it’s pretty ironic for me to point out negativity, considering that in many other aspects outside of sport, I’m a pretty pessimistic individual.  But in seriousness, I feel as if all Braves fans and supporters around me have adopted this defeatist mentality, and have long given up on the team they supposedly root for.  I know that it’s frustrating, so I can’t blame at all these people for being all jaded and pessimistic, but up until the events of the previous night, the Braves were still in the driver’s seat.

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Livid. Absolutely furious.

A particular airline has lost my luggage.  Regardless of the stuff being more or less superficial belongings, I would still very much not be happy if the particular items were lost forever:

  • Practically brand-new Canon digital camera
  • USB jump drive with some work-related documents on them
  • My primary Atlanta Braves baseball cap
  • Two custom-ordered #39 Jonny Venters Braves t-shirts
  • My primary work shoes
  • Favorite sleep shorts
  • Laptop power supply

I blame:

  • One flight attendant for rushing his duties and breaking protocol
  • Every motherfucker who abuses the carry-on luggage policy and basically makes the overhead bins first-come-first-serve, by having their “personal items” being a whole other piece of fat, cumbersome luggage, and filling up the overhead bins, for putting me in this predicament in the first place.  Seriously, right now, I wish all you people were dead.

This weekend fucking kind of stunk from having to watch the Braves job to the Nationals yet two more times, and I was at first delighted to having gotten back to Atlanta on an earlier rather than later flight, but then this fucking debacle is just the god damn icing on top.

Hank Conger

If I told you that about this baseball player named “Hank Conger,” most people would get the image in their head of a white guy.  Probably a sleepy-eyed Texan, closely associated with Hank Hill, from King of the Hill, since come on, just how many people out there really are named “Hank” anyway?

Well, pictured above is the real Hank Conger, a catcher for the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim of Orange County, California.  Not what you were expecting, huh?

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Owned at the ballpark

I thought about putting this up on my sports brog, but then I thought fuck it, this isn’t really something for BS,W.  When I first saw these two storm out of the section, I said “hehe, they’re going to go break up,” not really thinking much of it.  But then minutes later, I turned around and noticed the two of them hanging out on the railing, appearing to be having some intense conversation, based on the tepid body language.  “Holy shit, I think they are breaking up!”

Instead of watching Brave after Brave helplessly flail against Tim Lincecum, I found myself voyeuristically watching this young couple appearing to be headed down Splitsville.  My usher friend and I sadistically watched with enjoyment as with each pleading arm wave from him, and the dismissive hand through the hair from her, the negotiation appeared to be going nowhere but downhill.

And then came this moment of truth, that I managed to capture on camera, completely coincidentally – the wiping of the tears.

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Photos: Rome Braves minor league day trip

Admittedly, I haven’t been writing as much lately these days, and to be honest it’s not that I don’t have anything to write about, or that any particular things suck or anything right now, I guess it’s just that I simply haven’t felt like writing much these days.  It’s been a funny summer that way, since I haven’t been going to many baseball games, save for special occasions and designated baseball trips, and I haven’t really been doing much writing or playing video games either.  It’s like time just flies, without much substance behind any of it.

Anyway, I went up to the sticks of Rome, Georgia, 55 miles north of Atlanta to catch the minor league Rome Braves.  It was a hot, miserable, no-breeze evening, with like 800% humidity, but there was a free bobblehead involved, so I still went, because I’m a sucker for free chintzy shit like that.

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Real Men Don’t Wear Small update: Moar Minor Leagues

Two new minor league ballparks were added to Real Men Don’t Wear Small.  Actually, it’s one new ballpark, and one redux, since the ballpark known as the Diamond in Richmond, the former home of the AAA Richmond Braves, is now home to the AA Richmond Flying Squirrels.  Yes seriously.  And preceding that was a trip out to the sticks of Virginia, to where I could see the new A+ affiliates of the Braves, the Lynchburg Hillcats.

Photos: Charlotte/Fort Mill Baseball Day Trip

I went up to Charlotte to go watch baseball, despite the fact that the team from Charlotte actually played in South Carolina.  Either way, it didn’t stop me from taking a few hours to try and explore the city of Charlotte on my own, before realizing that since it was actually on Easter Sunday, every fucking thing was closed.

After finding a place that actually had a normal breakfast, and not some $100 champagne brunch, I walked around, only to discover the aforementioned closures of pretty much everything, and instead went straight to Fort Mill, South Carolina, where I enjoyed the park, and a pleasant Gwinnett Braves blowout victory, despite getting my arms, neck, and ears brutally sunburned.

CLT Charlotte/Douglas airport is one of the worst airports I’ve ever been to, from a TSA security checkpoint standpoint.  Each terminal had like one agent doing check ins, and the lines just to get through security were absurdly long.  Hopefully, I won’t have to fly in and out of there for a while now.

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