Come to Your Senses

Touch

I love a dry glove.
I despise a sweaty one, for that I have no love.
A dry baseball, just feel those seams, its gotta good grip.
A wet baseball feels gross, its bound to slip.
A dry basketball means a swish.
A wet basketball feel like a slimy fish.
A dry football produces a perfect spiral.
A wet football touched by everyone is just viral.

Why does touch football always turn into a game of who can touch the hardest?

It's great to hear someone say you have great touch on the tennis court.
Chasing down a drop shot from the baseline, never gonna get there abort! abort!

Hate the touch foul. It goes by the another name "ticky tack".
Overly sweaty dudes on the hoops court.(needing to towel off after every hack)

Fielding Rule #79. Never, ever touch a rolling bunt down the line.

Swing and have the ball hit on the label of the bat.
Pain like you never felt.

Using a wood bat feels like baseball.
Using aluminum bat feels like cheatin y'all.



Taste

Sports stuff I have licked/tasted over 42 years. Mom,please turn away at this time.
My baseball glove (I swallowed bits of it too).
Wooden bat (for luck).
Baseballs (too many to count)
Wiffleball & bat.
Football. Tennis Ball. Volleyball. Ping pong ball (covered in beer).
Bowling ball(turned tongue black).
Handball wall (hiding from Port Jeff Police).
Horseshoe. Ping pong paddle. Tennis racket (wood,metal,graphite).
Fishing pole (salty). A few baseball fences.
High School track (face plant-ouchy).
High jump mat (never could land right).
Bingo card at the swim club(sue me,I was 8).
My little red sled (slowest sled ever made).
OK...time for my annual tetanus shot.


Hearing

"you ain't hearing, if you ain't listening."
He no batta he no batta, swing batta.
I'm open !
Swish!
Brick!
Your the rock, I'm the stick, at the mailbox go deep and I'll hit you.
Keep your head down, hands up, head up, step into it,
Bend your knees.
Just put your face in the water.
Keep your eye on the ball.
Put it between the arrows,
Dig!
Good dig!
It's in the pocket.
Man Up!
Shirts or skins?


Smell

Freshly cut baseball field grass.
Stinky socks after playing all day.
New can of tennis balls.
My glove.
Those overly sweat dude from above.


Sight

"You see what you want to see."
Coach Richie hitting thee highest fly balls ever.
A true single to center.
Dragging baseball bats behind us on the way home.
Sliding your mitt to the fat end of the bat.
Sideline bomb to Wesley Walker.
Shooting the rock while the sun blinds you (please go in)
Athletes smiling- that's when they are just boys playing a game.
Getting a final run in just before sunset.





"I think we are done here" the sportsfreak feels it.

A Warped Kind of Day

Just sit right back and you'll hear a tale
a tale of a Awesome trip,
that started from this tropic state,
aboard the Warped Tour ship.
The mate (that's me) was a mighty wailin' man,
the Skipper not so brave that's for sure,
10,000 kids and I set sail that day,
for a 10 hour Warped Tour,
a 10 hour Warped Tour.

The mosh pits started getting rough,
this tiny Dude was tossed.
If not for the liquid courage of the Monsters brew.
Your Dude would be lost.
Your Dude would be lost.

The Tour ran aground on the land of the Central Florida Fairgrounds
with Ray(again),
the Strippers too.
The Stoner and his boys,
70 rock stars,
the weird dressers and a Green Man,
here on Warped Tour Isle.

So this is the tale of our Warped-aways,
they'll be rocking for a long long time.
They have to make the best of things,
it's been a fucking great time.
The dude Ray and his 10000 friends too
will do their very best,
to make their day tolerable,
in their Warped Tour Island mess.
No shade ,no TP, no cold water,
not a single luxury
like Robinson Crusoe
it was primitive as can be.
So join us here each year my friends,
you're sure to get a little high,
from ten thousand and one Warped-aways
here on Warped Tour Isle.


On this years episode I thought I would give you the highlights and lowlights of the event as seen through the eyes and mind of the sportsfreak. Yikes!

To the younger generation (nancy boys) who came for the tour to take in the sunshine and some great bands, but wound up instead scurrying for cover in the shaded areas behind the concession stands because the sun was too "shiny".
Suck it Up!
Wouldn't you think they be training for this day? Ahhh...Youth.


Warped Survival Tip #1 - coat thyself with sunscreen, you will be baking for 8 hours.

What is worn to Warped is a shock to some and normal to others. You had your bikini wearers both good and bad. Dudes in speedos and flip flops, one guy in a suit and tie (don't let that fool you, that guy was raging!), saw two clowns, a girl with horsehair leg warmers,I saw eight black people (where are my brothers?), a dude in army fatigues, lots of spiked mohawks, red hair, blue hair, green hair, rainbow bright hair and two people with walkers.

Warped Survival Tip #2- Keep your head on a swivel if your rockin' the yellow. Wearing yellow means you've made yourself a target: I had numerous water bottles, countless flip flops, one strawberry shake, an orange vuvuzela, a condom water balloon and a dirty sneaker come my way.


DouchebagLand or as you may refer to it, the Mosh Pit is all fun and games until your get run over. The MP really is like a twister. The outer circle of DB's picking off people as the circle gets larger and larger, you are now part of the twister, things are flying around, body parts get hit, you feel something wet, taste something sweet, your are blind to everything until your get to the vortex of the tornado. There at the storms center it's uniquely silent and everyone is at peace. You can't stay there forever, so leave your center.... carnage awaits.

Warped Survival Tip #3- if someone has "Free Hugs" or "Free Kisses" written on them. It is not ok to just run up and hug or kiss them. Who knew?

Man can not survive on bread alone. Warped people like myself go another route altogether. I am going to list exactly what I consumed so that historians can document it for medical study.
In time order, here....we....go...2 liters of water and blueberry muffin(waiting in line to enter), once inside monster ED, monster ED, monster ED (they were free), liter of water, liter of water, liter of water, liter of water, PB&J sandwich,($12 for chicken fingers no thanks),liter of water, liter of water, monster ED, PB&J sandwich, beer, liter of water, liter of water, bag of bottle caps,liter of water,liter of water,liter of water,liter of water, monster ED (half drank, thrown from a stage, still it was cold),liter of water,liter of water, monster nitro, monster nitro.

Warped #4 Tip- Stoners will share their weed dude! It's ok, I got a medical thing.


Awesome bands to get into your Ipods-
WATIC,Andrew WK, Suicide Silence, Dirty Little Rabbits, Sum 41



Thanks to the guy who parked his bicycle under my car.
Free bike for the sportsfreak!

Let's Get Cookin'

I wish I could cook. Really cook. I have some general meals that I feel comfortable cooking and people will actually eat. Me, I loves me a good meatloaf , whip up a mean spanish potato omelet or work a can opner to death by making a veggie bean chili. Beyond that I am totally clueless. Using a recipe does me no good. The description of the meal sounds wonderful and the pictures of the entrees look amazing, but when they ask me for a "pinch of sassafras or smidge of dryed onion root" I lose my mind. Who has these ingredients on hand? I'm a dude for christ sakes!

Men have been told since childbirth the bqq is the mans domain.
Fire + meat = Man!
Then why I am always a little anxious when I start up the BBQ. I think I know I know what I am supposed to do. I press the red button and hope for fire. No fire and I am shoving matches into the back of bbq like I'm violating the poor thing. After blindly lighting some 15 matches and throwing them at the bbq, PRESTO! we have fire. Then and only then, do I feel like I escaped a fiery death one more time. I want to be the chef, the one flips the 5lb steak to create flash flame that singes the roof tops but have the look of wanted to do that. Chicks dig big flames! (that sounds kinda gay doesn't it?)I love the smokey smells of the bbq & I get to enjoy a beer or two or three. I get it, I dig the whole experience but the bbq never does.
As I see it, the bbq and I have an gentlemans arrangement.
I bring the bbq fresh meat every summer and he burns it.
See....gentlemanly.


Throughout sports many an athlete has a name that make us think of our favorite foods.

Chili Davis- used to think he ate chili everyday before games. I thought I read it on the back of his baseball card. Never could find which card. Maybe I was mistaken.
My family is so proud right now.


Cookie Rojas- one of the coolest sports names ever.


Rob Deer- watched my cousins shoot and kill the poor thing and then not knowing I was eating it a few weeks later at their house. It tasted awesome.


Pie Traynor- oh pie..how I loathe you! You can try to hide behind your many different flavors but I will never..ever..ever..never like you.


Billy Beane- though your career was quite vanilla, you sure gave us a little fruit when it ended.


Candy Maldanado- as a kid I thought how cool a name that was. As I got a little older I felt bad that he had a strippers name.



the sportsfreak's timer has gone off. Enjoy your "post" game meal!

Mailing In an All Star Game

Watching the 2010 MLB All-Star Game had me seriously thinking if this once fun filled game would ever live up to its billing again. I am sorry to say but Tuesdays game left me with no lasting memory. It was not fun, plain and simple. We had 68 players all with a "just glad to be here" attitude(Yawn). For me, the Allstar game allows me the hope of catching a glimpse of the players letting their guard down and truly enjoying themselves, their family, the fans and even the stadium. Everyone was just a little robotic and had the look of that guy having to work in the office over a holiday weekend.


I will be sending a letter to Major League Baseball with some suggestions on how to make the game a little more interesting for the casual fan.
Let see if they respond(I'll keep you posted)

The Softball Game-
Why don't you just call it as it is? It's an old timers softball game.
Is it me or are the old timers crippled?
Kids running the bases should be the new rule.
The celebs are barely celebs. Jennie Finch? She can stay (she hot and she plays ball)

HR Contest-
Never thought the HR would be as boring as slam dunk. GGGOODD how boring!!!!

Put up Bulls Eye Targets in the stands or on the outfield fences .
Hit it here... we all win a pizza. Yeah!! Make it realistic.. not 575 feet away.

Hitting HR's to all fields should count towards a player total count.

Fan Cam's during the homerun hitting contest. Seeing a fan catching a homerun from his Point of View. Ain't nothing wrong with that.
How about one for the kids shagging flys and bullets on the field. We see some of the close calls but hey WE WANT MORE!


The Game Itself-

If a fan catches a foul ball. That fan would get to meet the player who hit it in the middle of the inning. A quick photo op. (in my sponsor voice.. "brought to you by our friends at Kodak")

The Starting Line-ups should have to come to bat a mandatory 3 times:
Albert Pujols batted once (struck out), played 2 innings and was gone.
Just give me the finger next time Albert.

The Starting Pitchers should face the entire starting line up of the opposing team.
Is asking for him to face 9 guys to much to ask?
My fav pitcher/batter match up: Ron Guidry vs Steve Garvey


The PA Announcers should be mobile
The players bring their kids right? So have the kids introducing their fathers:
"Now batting ...number 4... my daddy!! Hi Daddy !!

or Fans in Concession Line:
"Now batting...a number 2 with fries....Derek McJeter"


The game could have used former Angles like Rod Carew, Brian Downing or Sid Monge to do some fan reporting in the Outfield bleachers. Have the fans ask the managers questions during the game, whatever, just more fan interaction is all I am asking.
Did you get it? Angels in the Outfield. (man that was a good one.)


Wouldn't it have been cooler to have Rod Carew slap an ceremonial opposite field single to left off Jimenez rather than throwing out the games 1st pitch.


Didn't anyone tell the guys at ESPN that Anaheim is not in Los Angeles.
The song We Love LA at the end of the game. That was just wrong.


My headline if Troy Tulowitzki had hit a homer during the game.
"Rockie Rocks a Rocket into the Rocks"



Neither snow, nor rain, nor sleet, nor gloom of game will keep the sportsfreak from delivering.

Sportin' a Stache

As some of you may not know, I am mustache-intolerant..... we can bow our heads if you need some time. But make no mistakes, my milk mustache can not be matched.

The guys at work and I had a conversation about who had/has the coolest mustache in sports. For the record we had no women comment on the subject. My apologies to all the ladies for us not picking your mustached cutie pies.


To start off we give you Hulk Hogan- its weird because when I think of his stache the #20 always come to mind. He was 20 something when I first saw his stache. Over the 20 years its grew to about 20 inches from end to end. It was at least 20 different colors (stayed blond for 25 years)during that time and would rub it 20 times during a match.
I would recognize his mustache if it stood by itself. Now that's a good stache.


On the opposite end of good is Al Hrabosky (MLB pitcher) his stache was a total mess,just like the dudes brain.
The Mad Hungarian nickname fit him well.
The Fu-Manchu style stache not so much.


Steve Prefontaine
We don't see many a runner nowadays sporting a mustache.
Can't remember seeing one in the last 10 years.
The look is downright cool.


Rollie Fingers- wasn't it enough to have one of the most iconic staches in sports? But the dude was a great pitcher as well.
7 Time AS and 3 Time WS winner. Need we say more?


Marc Spitz- alright ladies we are throwing you a bone here.
Dude made hair in the pool a cool thing. His posters were Top Sellers after his Olympic gold heist. Take a breath ladies.


Let's get two thing straight before I go.

A Porn Mustache is COOL


Combing the stache with a little comb is NOT COOL



The sportsfreak home schooled by teacher of the American Mustache Institute

It's All in the Delivery

This past spring while weaving my way through Tiger Stadium in Lakeland I stopped dead in my tracks and looked my enemy straight in the eye. My enemy is the Radar Pitch Machine- you know, throw the ball and it tells you how fast your throw is.
My enemy since childhood, has embarrassed me whenever he's had the chance. He always had plenty of witnesses that's for sure. Who can forget the Cooperstown incident of 1980. I was just 13 years old and rockin' my glove and new hat, I stepped up to the rubber (just a piece of black tape) to dazzle the crowd. I check the invisble runner on first and reach back for my heater, with great accuracy the ball hits the catcher right in the mitt. Waitng on the cheers from the crowd around me I glance at my offical speed of my precious heater. 51 mph. What the f? 51 mph. This can't be, I have smoke coming off my fingers. I throw another. 49 mph. Pissed off I throw my last pitch. 51 mph again. My fans (the attendant and the next kid in line) said I did a good job but the leaderboard showed differently.
My fastest pitch was slower than some 8 year old pitch. Yikes.

Now back to the present day, I fork over my $5 to throw three balls at a Tigers Face. At 42 years old and I'm feeling real good about my upcoming throws. 1st pitch 50 mph, 2nd pitch 48 mph, my 3rd pitch clocked in at 51 mph. To you folk reading that may seem not that all impressive or maybe even sad to another set of you.

For me that throw of 51 mph says that inside this 42 year old's body still lives an ageless 13 year old boy who loves sports.


So I have marveled at some of the truly different approaches to delivering a pitch or ball or whatever that some athletes have taken.

Fernando Valenzuela-
If ever an athlete has said he looks to the lord above to achieve his goals, Fernando gaze to the heavens speaks volumes.
Who didn't love that pudgy screwgie throwing sensation.


Juan Marichal-
He had three arm delivery locations for each of his 4 pitches that I'm sory is a hitters nightmare.
Still to this day, one of the hardest deliveries to imitate playing wiffle ball.
How this man never won a Cy Young Award is a shame.


Kent Tekulve-
The first time I ever saw submarine pitcher.
To me the Dude was weird. He was freakishly tall & skinny, a huge adams apple that you couldn't take your eyes off of and to boot he sported baseball size wad of chaw.
Why he didn't fall down after each pitch is still a mystery to me.


Walter Ray Williams-
Don't know how to bowl? It's easy...watch Walter and copy.
Perfect form, perfect delivery, everytime.
They should honor him with making him the PBA "Logo".
Your welcome PBA exec's.


The Paper Boy- as a prodigal periodical passer, I have executed, many times, the perfect - the up two flight of stairs- over the railing- lean up against the door toss. The euphoric sensation of this accomplishement was always washed away by my next 20 throws nailing the door at 5AM with a loud "THUD!".
So to my delivery boy, rest easy. I have no problem when I find my paper in the bushes or floating in the fountain near the door, I know I'll be the recipient of your perfect toss soon.


Is it me or is it just weird when the pizza delivery guy comes to the door. Are we really that happy to see him? Like he's a long lost friend or a bit more like Santa Claus status. Do you think in pizza delivery training class, when they go to the practice door, they have people screaming "THE PIZZA'S HERE! YES !THE PIZZA'S HERE! That's what we all do right?
I feel bad for the Chinese Food Delivery Guy, he never gets that kind of reaction. Sorry chinese delivery guy.



Brought to you by the sportsfreak

Fooling with Mother Nature

I recently took a road trip from Orlando down to Miami, unfortunately the views are not very scenic for most of the way just lots of trees on both sides of the road. So as I was cruising the Florida Turnpike at the legal speed limit (90 mph in the right lane). I thought (ok day dreamed) how sports and mother nature have partnered to make my (oh ..our) world a brighter place to live.


Without MN's trees we wouldn't have wooden baseball bats. Forget that silly New Years, the first crack of the bat in March is the beginning of my year.


MN has been duped folks. What a shame it is to hear a "ping" instead of a "thwack" on the golf course.


I was always felt different than the normal hockey fans. When the shot hit the goalies post (made of wood) I thought they were yelling "Mother Nature" but I was sadly mistaken.


In baseball you ride the pine, they never tell you that it will give you splinters. Damn you St. Margaret's home team bench. Oh God..oops..sorry about damning you.


MN gave basketball and us Tree(Rollins). Merry Christmas!


Which pitch has the most names? Is it called a Gopher ball, an Ether ball or the La Lob? I call it the Palm Ball.


I am going to start the "I hate the Fn Cactus League". The Grapefruit League rules.
Enjoy your dry heat suckers.


When I was 7 years old, I never, ever knew a person could be named Wilbur (Wood).
I still have his baseball card.


Could they come up with another name in Ladies Gymnastics for making a perfect landing? It's doesn't sound so lady like to have to STICK a landing.


Log Rolling could never be without MN. I got nothing else folks.


MN would not be too proud of the OAK Hills High School team or as it should be called, the NBA's Minor League Team.


Did you know that both the NFL and the MLB had a player named Branch (Cliff and Rickey). Now you have a trivia answer. How lucky are you?!


you know what else has been made special by MN for the sportsfreak, the speeding ticket I got while daydreaming.

Life is good.