i suppose it helps a bit that i only got to listen to the game broadcast, as opposed to seeing the 21-13 loss live. then again, i’ve been waiting to see my boys play again since fucking january, yo.
oh well, it’s only preseason. OAKTOWN!
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category : sporty
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category : sporty
oakland raiders: aka future baby daddies
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oakland raiders: aka future baby daddies
as training camp continues, i am more and more atwitter over the impending football season. last year i had too much bullshit going on and was mightily distracted from the ongoings of the gridiron. but i’m focused this year, i’m stoked, i can’t fuckin’ wait to see my boys tearin’ it up this year. oaktown, what?!?!?! recognize! silver and black, baby!
the Raiders first preseason game on August 13th against the San Francisco 49ers
let the countdown begin, y’all!!!
The regular season kicks off on Thursday, Sept. 8, when the Oakland Raiders and new acquisition Randy Moss go to New England to face Tom Brady and the defending Super Bowl champion Patriots.
—nfl.com
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category : bitchery, sporty
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going back to the gym tonight after too much over a week off. although, i couldn’t by any stretch of the imagination in good conscience abandon my baby brother for 1 or 2 hours at the gym. and it’s not necessarily cut out for children, so…yeah…but i must return. and hit it harder than ever before. because 1.) all i have to do is look at something edible and it’s like i grow a whole ‘nother ass 2.) i’d rather not have my own zip code 3.) the massively huge woman causing a traffic jam in the kenmore station stairwell is not something i aspire to some day be — though i’m horribly worried it could happen.
that said, i’m off.
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category : sporty
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to me making a complete fool of myself.
that said, i must be extra careful this week, hope my knee holds out on me and get used to running with a brace.
and i’ve decided my new regimen should be:
a 35, 25, 15, 10 min cardio breakdown, followed by 5 minutes of stretching and a set of 100s, then another 5-10 minutes of floorwork if i can swing it. weight training 2 times a week is all i should do for now…i think. and especially light this week, either way, it’s just the one class tomorrow.
here’s hoping the weather holds own, and i don’t completley fuck up.
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category : sporty
comments : nada mucho
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i remember the first time i picked up a ball, i must’ve been 8 or 9, something like that. just past the infatuation with the sand box and finally big enough to stake out a bigger claim on the playground at recess. it was definitely post my jered morgan-phase. our ill-fated friendship was torn asunder by another boy (whom, incidentally, would later endear himself to me as well) that just couldn’t take the idea of his best friend being best friends with a girl. i had cooties, don’t you know? c o o t i e s.
anyway, i digress…but that was it, one recess, i joined in on the courts. i’d always been infatuated with the game, loved watching my cousin gillie play his big high school boy games, etc. and then i did it, and god damn it was fun. addictive and exhilarating in that way that only athletic exertion can be (and i can just hear my roommate shuddering now…). but it didn’t stop there…summer rec, PE, afterschool pickup games with the boys, weekend excursions to the court, jr. high teams, summer leagues, JV & finally — dear god, finally — Varsity. now, i make no presumptions here: I Utterly Suck At Basketball. oh ho, do i ever. but god damn, if i don’t love it. if i haven’t always loved it. so dearly, so muchly — triumphantly and abundantly, heh. i’d beg my moms to let me stay up and watch the playoffs, i’d decorate my room, my locker, my notebooks in red & black. i’d contemplate sketching out a 2-3 on my sneakers in magic marker for good luck. when it became apparent i couldn’t have that same number for my jersey in high school, i settled for #45 — the comeback number.
basically, what i’m getting to is, i idolized michael jordan. and still do, mind you — despite what the boy says. i mean, what kid my age didn’t want to be like mike? seriously? if you were the kind of kid that was into ballin’ you knew — fuckin’ knew — that MJ was the end all, be all of the sport. dr. j, larry bird, magic johnson, etc. etc. etc. yes, they were awesome. but when jordan was on the court, he did somethin’ magical, yo. i went into mourning the first time he retired. the only other kid as affected as me was cole henderson — who, incidentally did not suck at basketball, and went on to play on scholarship. we bonded over our loss, over the world’s loss. and that is likely the only time i ever related to that kid; since then, we had a strained “aquaintenceship” or something. whatever. then, the comeback. all of a sudden, playoffs were worth watching again. joy! rapture! glee! and yes, i own a wizards jersey. and yes, it is prominently displayed in my room. so?! i was lucky enough to see jordan play his last game in boston, and that is something i will always treasure. (ignoring the other unpleasantness of the evening…) and in my mind, there is no greater, will be no other who changed the game the way MJ changed the game. (lebron, who?)
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category : blahblahblah, sporty
comments : nada mucho
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…19 days until i make a complete and utter fool of myself. and i still don’t know the race route for certain. and outdoor running kind of baffles me at this point, though i do have an ipod holder-thingie (i’ve lost the word for it) en route…but i’m still not sure what i should do race day. my keys? T pass? etc.? wtf? scooter says i should get a fanny pack — belt of the gods, says robbie roadsteamer — but um…ugh. also, no matter how much i go to the gym, it doesn’t seem to be making a difference. in fact, i may have gained weight in the last 3-4 weeks. shit shit shit. yeah, 3.1 miles isn’t much, but still…i’m bound to be last i fear, unless they let retards or cripples run too. the bottom line is, i’m completely freaked about this. race day draws nigh…
in other news, merely 23 days till nick gets here. yay! that’s a much better countdown, ya heard.
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