The 2021 MLB Playoffs post

Part of the challenge of trying to write posts from the past is that sometimes, there are particular topics that end up being more time sensitive than others, on account of the fact that they’re things like sports or live events to which if too much time passes, then the impetus for the original posts could become invalidated, and therefore useless to try to even bother writing about, retroactively.

That being said, I’m skipping the queue a little bit, and ultimately just going to make a singular post about the 2021 MLB Playoffs, because zero people who read my shit will give two shits about baseball playoffs, and the likelihood of me revisiting this topic with the time that I don’t have is pretty much not going to happen, but I wanted to put down some words that were going through my head before time passes and then I won’t be able to.

At the time I’m writing this, the National and American Leagues have both advanced to their respective championship series.  The Boston Red Sox vs. the Houston Astros in the American League, and in the National League, a rematch from last year – the Braves vs. the Los Angeles Dodgers.  In fact, the Braves have a 2-0 series lead on the Dodgers, to which where me simply acknowledging such a fact is condemnation for a repeat of last year, where the Braves Atlanta’d away their favor, and watched as the Dodgers went onto win a very winnable World Series.

To say that my excitement for the Braves having a 2-0 on the defending world champions is non-existent would be an understatement.  Last year proved that there is absolutely no reason to be excited for the Braves to actually succeed, as they pissed away both a 3-1 series lead, as well as killed all momentum for my theory of baby luck, and even though I could say baby luck is most certainly in play again this year, I learned my lesson last year to hold hopes that any Atlanta team could hold true to any superstition other than their inexplicable ability to choke no matter the circumstances.

Frankly, it’s a Christmas miracle and simply the crapshoot logic of divisions, rules and alignment that the Braves are here in the first place, and part of why everything is just so hilarious with the way things are standing right now.

The Braves won 88 games, which makes them literally the worst team in the entire playoff picture.  The Red Sox, Yankees, Cardinals and Dodgers, who were all the wild card teams who had to scrap for the ability to play in a play-in game to see who got to get into the real playoffs, all had more than 88 wins.  In fact, the Toronto Blue Jays and Seattle Mariners who both missed the playoffs had 90 wins, but by virtue of the fact that the Braves played in the most putrid NL East division, and won it with 88 wins, they avoided the play-in game, and most hilariously, are considered the “higher” seed in the match-up against the 106-win Dodgers in the NLCS where they did their job and capitalized on the opening two games at home in Smyrna.

Now one thing I would stated that’s now been invalidated by the passage of time, is that the St. Louis Cardinals made the playoffs, and they are whom I would’ve bet the farm on going al the way, because as much as I hate the Cards, they’re just that one charmed team that always goes all the way if they can just get their toe into the door.  But they ran into the aforementioned 106-win Dodgers team, but not for lack of effort, considering the Cardinals deadlocked the Dodgers pretty much the entire game and it took a walk-off to send them packing.

I’m actually not that surprised that the Braves beat the Brewers in the NLDS.  If there were any team that I would’ve wanted the Braves to match up against, it would’ve been the Brewers, and most definitely not the Giants or Dodgers.  Had it been either of those two teams, the Braves would’ve been bounced from the first round like they do every other time they’ve made it into the playoffs.

And back to present time, where the Braves are up 2-0 on the Dodgers, and I still have 0% faith that they’re actually going to seal the deal, mostly on account of the fresh history of last year.  Furthermore, with the Red Sox and the Astros duking it out in the AL, MLB is salivating over the potential narrative of the Dodgers versus either one of those teams in the World Series, considering both teams were basically found out to have cheated against the Dodgers in prior World Series in 2017 and 2018.  

With the potential revenge storyline on the table, I wouldn’t put it past MLB to low-key sabotage the NLCS in favor of the Dodgers, and maybe we’ll see some more wonky check-swing strikeouts called by the umpires against the Braves, or maybe we’ll just see the Braves be the Braves and just implode on their own.  Either way, no matter that nobody will admit it, the Dodgers being in the World Series is what will be decided to be best for business, and what I’d expect to be the case by the end of next week when the pennants should be decided.

Has there been a more legendary of a power move than this?

Obviously, there are probably several comparable examples floating out there in the world, but I’m a dad with an extremely small world these days, so bear with me here.

But I recently saw that Katey Segal has apparently showed up in the ashes of what used to be Roseanne and is now The Connors, seemingly as the love interest of Dan Connor, Roseanne’s widowed husband after her character died of cancellation.  But for lack of better term, Peg Bundy has shown up and completely usurped the role of Roseanne out from Roseanne herself, and I’m left here flabbergasted, wondering if there’s ever been more of a legendary power move in history?

It goes back to the 80’s when not necessarily direct rivals, but definitely there were comparisons between the two actresses, playing similar characters of no-bullshit, smart talking moms between Roseanne and Married… With Children.  To the point where it’s even acknowledge in the roast of Roseanne by Katey Segal herself, and if people didn’t put one and one together before seeing that clips, it’s easy to see the correlations between the two.

And then Roseanne had to go and get herself cancel culture’d, putting the whole reboot of the Roseanne show into a tailspin, but ABC and Disney are clever, and have the financial means to throw infinite money at a problem until it goes away, and it appears that even the social cancellation of the titular Roseanne is not insurmountable.  Killing her name from the series, and renaming it The Connors is one thing, but to more or less flip all of Roseanne’s role and probably future storylines onto Peg Bundy is pretty incredible no matter what way you look at it.

It’s kind of like whenever Ric Flair would get himself in hot water with whatever legal, drugs or one of this 13 ex-wives, and WCW would always have this sudden power vacuum in the main event.  But then they’d poach some WWF main eventer, be it Kevin Nash, Hulk Hogan, Bret Hart or whomever, and they’d instantly step in and bring a modicum of low-adapting stability to the scene and things would resume business as usual until the company imploded in 2001.

Katey Segal stepping in to fill the shoes vacated by Roseanne’s social indiscretions all but solidifies who really was the queen of the old school sitcom moms’ roost, and now not only did she dominated MWC through her original time, she’s dominating someone else’s original IP in the modern age.  If that’s not a power move on the legendary level, then I don’t know what else is. 

I hope the afterlife is ready to get their asses destroyed

By now, I would wager that just about everyone has someone they can name off the top of their heads as someone whom they think has been the greatest casualty of the coronavirus.  Whether it’s a family member, or family of a friend, or a friend of family, a celebrity, regional personality, or what not, at this point it’s probably not a stretch for people to be able to have been affected to some degree of sadness at the death or someone they cared about.

For me, short of anyone in my family, the news of the passing of actor and martial arts legend, Shinichi “Sonny” Chiba is without question, the one death that stands out above all others in my personal little world, and it upset me tremendously to have learned of the passing of this icon.

At 82 years old, it’s not like he hasn’t lived a full and fruitful life in his own right, but the fact that he passed due to pneumonia associated with coronavirus says to me that he still died in a pointless, unfortunate and completely avoidable manner.  I won’t sugarcoat the disappointment that I felt to learn that he also wasn’t vaccinated, but given his age, I’m hoping he was more of the type to be concerned over a vaccine of such nature to a person of his age, versus someone who was just anti-vax, and flat out refused it, but this is something that I guess we’ll never know.

I don’t even really know where to go with the rest of this post.  I wanted to make sure that even in spite of my complete lack of any time to do any writing, that when I started writing this, I wanted to be clear headed, and relatively available to gather my thoughts and write, because most anyone who knows me probably knows that I’ve always been a die-hard Sonny Chiba fan, and that I saw him as more than a martial artist and an actor, and more like an icon and a personal hero, that started kind of as a joke, but really grew into something genuine and meaningful.

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Your NBA Champion Milwaukee Bucks

Originally intended for July 20, 2021 but stagger-posted to break apart all my whiney dad brogs

I don’t think at any point in my life it’ll not look funny to see that headline, even if it were reality. 

As I opined about a little while ago, it was never not fascinating to see that the Milwaukee Bucks were knocking on the door to an NBA championship, because during the vast majority of my childhood into teenage years where I was the most diehard about the NBA, the Bucks were the epitomal doormat of the Eastern Conference, and often times the worst team in the entire league.  To think that they’d ever shake the stink of the 80s and 90s to become this powerhouse two decades later is permanently unfathomable, regardless of how much reality that it has become.

But for them to fulfil the destiny and actually go all the way, and hoist the NBA championship trophy, well ain’t that some shit?  Considering the last few decades of NBA, the almost all prior championships were won by the Heat, Warriors, Lakers or Spurs, this is definitely one of those cases where a team with a less than reputable history finally breaks through the glass ceiling and makes the awkward breaking of the status quo actually happen.

So here we are, where the Milwaukee Bucks are actually NBA champions.  From having guys like Brad Lohaus on the roster to having an eight-foot tall Greek monster scoring 50 points in a closeout game, the Bucks have come tremendous strides throughout the last few decades, and finally shaken the stink of the 80s, the lowered expectations of the 90s, and the general mediocrity of all the other time from then until now.

And like most championship teams, we’ll probably be in this weird renaissance of where the Bucks will remain pretty decent for the foreseeable future until financial matters inevitably dismantle the team, but at least everyone in Milwaukee will always have the memories of a fairly recent NBA championship in their lifetimes, which is most definitely something that us pleebs in Atlanta probably won’t ever get to have any time soon.

Happy trails, New Jack

To be perfectly honest, the news of New Jack’s passing didn’t really impact me beyond the unfortunate feeling that at just 58-years old, he probably left a lot of life on the table when he decided to check out.  I can’t say that I was really that big of a fan of his ever, and I was a fan of ECW during their heyday when he was a member of the Gangstas and all his rando team-ups with Spike Dudley and John Kronus.

All the same, I still felt like writing out some words on account his passing, because I’m still a wrestling fan, and I do have memories of New Jack myself.

Honestly, I actually remember New Jack doing the job more often than not, especially towards the last few years of ECW.  Granted, he would always remain “strong” in terms of optics and perception, because along with his trashcans of weapons he’d always bring to the ring, he would punish and beat the fuck out of his opponents for 12 minutes before he’d inevitably overextend the beatdown by going up high, and after whatever dive, fall or slam off of often times, multiple stories, he would be just as in a position to lose the “match” as his opponents were, and he did, a lot.

Towards the end of ECW, I remember him in many matches often opposing the Dudley Boyz, and those were some savage, brutal affairs, where most spectators whether they were wrestling fans or not, would often bring up the “well, that’s got to be real” comments when New Jack was snapping crutches and other objects on the backs and heads of his opposition.  Frankly, the finishes to these matches were probably the safest parts, when the inevitable 3D through a table probably felt like jumping on the bed versus having a 230 lb. man dropping on you from above, since one of the staples of every New Jack match was an insane dive or fall.

I bet there were some intense rock-paper-scissors or straws drawn to decide who got to have Spike Dudley drop on them versus New Jack.

Above all else though, if there was one core, key element that New Jack brought to the table, and in my opinion, the thing that will truly be lost with his passing, was the sheer element of insane-terror-fear that he brought into whatever room or arena he walked into.  Make no mistake, New Jack was one of the most terrifying and intimidating performers of an entire generation.

As much as guys like Haku brought an air of toughness, the Undertaker commanded respect, New Jack brought an air of homicide with him that the people he worked with might actually have been fearful for their lives when they knew that they had to work with him.  Guys like Jack Victory and of course, nobody can talk about New Jack without mentioning The Mass Transit Incident where he basically almost killed a minor who had lied about his age to get in the ring could attest to the sheer brutality that lay in store when working with New Jack if he just felt like it, it must literally have felt like Russian Roulette when stepping into the ring with New Jack.

Although I can’t say that I was particularly a fan of his, or the hardcore style in general, it would be inaccurate to say that New Jack wasn’t a legend in his own right.  The whole package of the brutal, hardcore punishment he brought to every match the Natural Born Killaz track that played continuously throughout all his matches, and the sheer violence and shock value he brought are things that simply cannot be emulated or recreated in this day and age, and it’s probably for the best.

Regardless, happy trails to Jerome Young, AKA New Jack, and respect for the wild and crazy shit he brought to the industry while he was in it.

Revisiting An Old Post: Stephen Strasburg’s 2016 Extension

One of the best things I ever felt I implemented into my brog was the On This Day plug-in, which lets me look back to the date in all prior years in which there was a post, and read, cringe and laugh at myself for all the bullshit I’ve spewed throughout the years.  Occasionally, I’ll come across a post that I’ve written in the past, and think to myself, man, how much things have changed, or man, how fucking wrong was I about that?

Regardless, it serves to be potential inspiration for things to write about that aren’t the depressing-ass news of every single day in the world and it’s not that I’m so narcissistic that I source the inspiration for my writing to myself as much as sometimes I just don’t want to look at local or national news, because it’s all just so demoralizing, for humanity.

So, back in 2016, I wrote this diatribe about how the Washington Nationals were probably embarking on the path to becoming the New York Mets, because they were repeatedly exercising the contract strategy of deferring salary to way later in the future in order to maintain financial flexibility in the present, which is exactly one of the reasons on how the New York Mets became the laughing stock of baseball, because they deferred payment of $5.9 million dollars for one year of Bobby Bonilla, and somehow turned it into 25 annual installments of $1.3 million dollars, which it doesn’t take a math whiz to realize is vastly more than $5.9M cumulatively.

Back then, the Nationals had signed star pitcher Stephen Strasburg to a seven-year, $175 million dollar contract to stay with the team, where in the fine text of the deal was that the Nationals would pay him a large portion of his salary many years after the deal was done, to which baseball nerds love to ridicule deferred money, because they years in which they are paying are often times years in which the actual player themselves are somewhere else, or not even actually in baseball anymore, so effectively paying for nothing.

The thing is, the Nationals also had other players on similar deals, namely pitchers Max Scherzer and Rafael Soriano; and the thing that I had decided to zero in on was this window of time between 2024 and 2028, in which the Nationals would be on the hook for deferred payments to guys that will most likely no longer be on the Nationals, or even playing in Major League Baseball.  It would be a five-year window in which the Nationals would be paying a total of $127 million dollars to literally, no actual players.

Obviously, this is a giant epic fail, and we should all laugh at the Washington Nationals right??

Continue reading “Revisiting An Old Post: Stephen Strasburg’s 2016 Extension”

Here we go again

Up until this week, I had no idea what the Colonial Pipeline was.  But when I heard that it had something to do with the supply of fuel to the southeastern region of the United States, my first thought was, hmm, maybe I should go fill up my tank.

Seeing as how I still have the luxury to be able to be working from home, I decided to dip out for a spell, at a time in which people might still be working, and head to a gas station, since I was sitting on just a quarter of a tank left, and I didn’t want to be in a position to if another fuelmageddon were to begin, I’d be left with my dick out with no way to get more gas for my car.

The first gas station I got to, every pump was full, but it wasn’t pandemonium yet.  I did one circle, and was able to get to a pump, but it turned out that the display screen was busted, in a constant state of reset mode, and I wasn’t able to actually use it to start a transaction.  I punted on it, as there was already someone waiting behind me, and I was technically on the clock at work, and I figured I should get back sooner rather than later.

I went to another gas station, which was deserted, and I was able to fill up without any issue.  I felt relief knowing that if shit did hit the fan, I would be okay, because since I work from home, I barely drive much as it is, and I typically have been filling up like, once a month, and I’d hope that if any fuelmageddon were to start, I could probably weather the storm; sure mythical wife who has to drive daily wouldn’t be so lucky and her problem would become my problem because that’s what good spouses do, but at least that would be one less car to worry about.

Later in the day, when I went out to go grab dinner, I realized that the shit did hit the fan.  The first gas station I passed had all their prices pulled, the sure-fire tell that they were out of gas.  The giant QT gas station that I occasionally go to because they’re the cheap gas was all out of gas too.  And across the street was a line onto the main road, for the diminutive 4-pump Shell station that wasn’t probably long with the size of their facility.  The picture above is a RaceTrac gas station that I had the leisurely position to take a photo of at a red light.

But here we are again, another fuelmageddon plaguing the Atlanta area.  I remember the last one in 2008 like it were yesterday, seeing all this mayhem over gas, and I really hoped that it wouldn’t get to those levels, because that shit was really scary back then.  Prices climbed to $4+ a gallon, and any stations if they even had gas at all, put a $40 max transaction, which for most vehicles with a fuel tank over 10 gallons, wasn’t ever enough to fill up.

Naturally, a lot of this bullshit stems from the fact that Americans are greedy motherfuckers who always feel the need to hoard and amass for themselves, with zero compassion for their fellow human beings.  Even at the first station I went to, I saw one guy filling up gas canisters, as if he were preparing for the zombie apocalypse, and if stations were running dry, that means other people were doing similarly all over the place.

Of course, it goes without saying that with chaos comes people who try to profit, and there’s been no shortage of reports all over of people trying to re-sell fuel at egregious markups, which is nothing short of disgusting.

However the best part about this whole post is that as long as it took for me to write it is about how long the offline status of the Colonial Pipeline lasted, and at the time I’m writing this, it’s already been reported to be up again, and hopefully that means that fuel production will resume again to normalcy pretty soon.

But my biggest hope is that every asshole who hoarded and amassed gasoline over the last 48 hours, is stuck with canisters of gas in their garages and homes, that nobody needs, and they have to eat the cost of having stockpiled, while it deteriorates and stinks up their properties with noxious fumes.

People never fucking learn that their greed seldom results in anything good.