Bikes and stuff

Remember M. Night Shyamalan's Unbreakable, where Samuel L. Jackson has brittle bones and is convinced that there must be a polar-opposite nemesis with strong bones because he reads comic books (duh), and the whole time you're thinking there's going to be a twist because it's M. Night Shyamalan and that's the only thing he's got going for his films, and then the twist is too obvious, like offensively obvious, so obvious you're like, "no, he has more respect for the audience than that," but he doesn't. He really doesn't. Remember that?

Well, I'm awful on a bike (this is known as ridiculous), so I was convinced that my polar opposite was out there somewhere:



Now we must duel, but not that jousting business. I must rely on my superior, yet evil, intellect. I challenge you, Danny MacAskill, to bike Scrabble.

Harry and the Ephemera-sons

This is late to the game, and Phillies crowds are probably done throwing grief batteries and back to just throwing victory batteries or Tuesday batteries, but Phillies announcer Harry Kalas died, and that is sad. There's no joke there.

However...




There is a fine line between celebrating a beloved announcer with his most memorable catchphrase and exclaiming with glee that, in fact, Harry K is "outta here", right?

Thanks, Nock

What's in a name? Lies and Gimmicks

I was looking up Catfish Hunter's birthday (what?) and learned that owner Charlie Finley created the nickname "Catfish" and made up stories about the pitcher's youth to give Hunter some backwoods cred (Wikipedia is etched in community-manipulated stone).

Uh, yes.

This needs to happen all the time for baseball to overcome its steroids black eye (by which I refer to the various black eyes given to players' spouses.)

Alex Rodriguez could become Amarrador Rodriguez, which I'm going to guess means "Cockfighter Rodriguez". You see, A-Rod, or should I say Cock-Rod, grew up in the rough streets of (who cares?), where he had to eke out a living raising los gallos. He grew to love the birds like family, only to see them slaughtered in vicious battle week after week. The cruel life lessons he learned carried him forward to a great career in the majors, but his happiness is always tinged with sad memories of poor Martillo. Is any of that true? Who's to say? But now everyone has forgotten that he's been pumping himself full of steroids for years. Except for the children; their hearts are forever broken.

Let's take it upon ourselves to rename (with back story) every All Star. Ready, go...

P.S. Catfish Hunter's birthday is on Wednesday. Mark your calendars. Gone but never forgotten.