I go to a lot of professional sporting events. I’m going to the Ranger game tonight. I went to the Knick game Saturday. I’m a partial season ticket holder for both the Yankees and Rangers. As longtime readers know, I prefer doing nothing to doing almost anything. I would rather be home on the coach than out almost anywhere. But sports are an exception. I have always loved being at the stadium or the arena. I love the energy. I love the sounds and smells. I love hot dogs. It’s an almost perfect way to spend an afternoon or evening.
Because while I enjoy the energy and the sounds of thousands of people united in support of their team, I almost always can’t stand the guy sitting behind me.
It’s uncanny, really. For years now, I have managed to sit a row or two in front of some jackass who talks (or yells) throughout the entire game. At every single game. At Yankee Stadium. At Madison Square Garden. At Barclays Center.
The fall into a few categories:
The guy who is trying to impress a girl with bad information- Hey, there’s nothing wrong with trying to impress a young lady. Just stay in your lane. If you don’t know why the ump just called Alfonso Soriano out on appeal, don’t make up a reason to explain it to her. If you don’t know what team Rick Nash played for before the Rangers, don’t just tell her he’s an upcoming young star the Rangers are excited about. If you don’t know the definition of a clear path foul, don’t tell her the ref is wrong when he makes that call. It’s ok to admit you don’t know something. Women like a little vulnerability. (I’m about to live with a girl who genuinely seemed to like it when I cried a little during last week’s episode of Modern Family.)
“Hey guys, look how loud I can yell” – I will admit that, at times, I have been this guy. Or at least been this guy-adjacent. A few dudes out together. Maybe they’re away from their wives and girlfriends for the night. Maybe they’re in their late teens or early 20’s and are enjoying their first taste of freedom (and first taste of legally purchased beer.) Either way, they are loudly screaming at the players (on both teams) and the officials. And they are turning it into a contest. Who can scream the loudest, most horrible insult? And while we’re on the topic, don’t scream curses. People are there with their kids or their moms or a woman from work who is their mom’s age but happens to be a huge hockey fan. No one wants to hear the word “vagina” screamed while they’re in that situation.
The guy who reads the internet- Perhaps you’ve heard of the internet? Its full of ideas and opinions. And there are people who read those ideas and opinions then decide to co-opt them as their own. Then they yell those ideas and opinions at the top of their lungs, with the hope that everyone else in the section will be impressed by the breadth of their knowledge. Except everyone else in the section also has the internet. It’s on computers now! and phones and glasses. So, they’ve also read the ideas and opinions that you are trying to pass off as your own. Don’t quote Frank Isola at a Knicks game and pretend you thought of it. YOU ARE A FRAUD.
Are you one of these people? Are you at the Ranger game tonight? If you answered yes to both of these questions, I can only assume you will be sitting in section 312. Do you see that guy a row ahead of you, shooting disapproving glances over his shoulder every now and then? That’s me. So, SHUT THE FUCK UP AND LET ME ENJOY THE GAME.
The first half of this week’s magazine serves as the annual media year in review. And a lot of good sports media happened this year. That’s why it’s weird that the Scorecard column spends so much time talking about this ridiculous movie, “the Grudge Match.” Stallone and DeNiro as old boxers? There is literally no chance this movie will be anything other than horrendous. Don’t try to tell me otherwise.
Superiority Complex by Andy Staples
It sounds like officials in Florida botched the Jameis Winston investigation. I think the truth of what happened probably lies somewhere in between rape and consensual sex. That being said, I’m pretty sure if this story hadn’t surfaced, writers would have found some other reason to raise doubts about his Heisman worthiness. Maybe it’s because they need something controversial to fill column inches. Maybe there’s still some residual racism in the ranks of big time southern based college football coverage. I don’t know. I do know that the entire idea of suggesting AJ McCarron as a Heisman candidate seemed incredibly forced and gained an incredible amount of traction in almost no time.
The Final Run by Michael Rosenberg
Rosenberg writes a eulogy for the BCS. It was bad, but not all bad. Ok.
Saint Nick Comes Early by Michael Bamberger
Bamberger writes about Nick Foles from the perspective of the Philly sports fan that he is. Usually that would bother me. But, in this case, it worked.
Problem Child by Chris Mannix
This is an article about boxer Adrien Broner. I did not read it.
Love by Alan Shipnuck
Instead of writing a straight profile of T-Wolves star Kevin Love, Shipnuck has Love talk him through the specific plays in one of his better games of the season. It’s an interesting way to cover one of the most exciting but relatively undercovered players in the league. SHOW MORE T-WOLVES GAMES ON NATIONAL TV.
Point After by Steve Rushin
reheated garbage about the Boston-New York rivalry