Results tagged ‘ Erin Andrews ’
Expos Jersey = Instant Notoriety
I am not so full of myself that I believe everyone wanted
a piece of me during yesterday’s All-Star festivities; but wearing
throwback gear from a team long dead certainly gave me an edge. As a
walking memory, representing Gary Carter, Andre Dawson and Delino
Deshields with porn ‘stache swagger, I was definitely drawing
attention. Unfortunately, the security people holding me back at field
level, blocking my attempts at getting a word with Erin Andrews did not
find me as irresistible.
“I need to talk to Erin Andrews.” I told them with confidence.
“Why?”
“Because, it’s my destiny.”
“Get the hell outta here before I throw you the hell outta here.”
‘Nuff said.
Oh
well. Had to keep my head up. I was part of the Homerun Derby. Busch
III was electric. And despite all the partying, I was somehow still
alive.
The Derby? Well, it was what I thought it’d be: very
exciting for the first half hour, then pretty boring after that.
Several balls came close to us in our right field seats, but one guy –
the SAME GUY — caught two balls (one from Ryan Howard and one from Joe
Mauer) and after standing for the three hour event and being
shot down by Erin’s handlers before I even had a chance, I ended up
leaving Busch III ball-less… well, sorta. Anyway, here are some pics
from Fanfest and the evening’s homerun contest. Click on them for
closer view.
The ticket:
Big Balls:
Three of the ten World Series trophies the Cardinals have brought home. Read ‘em and weep, sCrUBBIE fans:
Me and Jackie’s duds:
My best impression of an irate Cub:
The ‘Lou:
Some random guy excited to see me… gee, I wonder why?
The view from our seats:
Concentration or solace in my futile attempts at meeting Erin?
J.W. and I… still sober? What’s wrong with this picture!?!?!
Okay, y’all. I’m gearing
up for the big game tonight, Molina jersey on my back, praying the that
the National League doesn’t embarrass me… again. This would be as good
a time as any for us to win this thing (not that I really care) and I
have a feeling I’ll have a better shot at meeting President Obama than
I will Ms. Andrews.
She doesn’t know what she’s missing.
Hate me ‘cuz I’m here, just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
Peace,
Jeff
Buzzing with Testosterone Fueled Accoutrements
I did it. It’s done. It’s bad^ss.
Keith Hernandez, say hello to the Lady Killer.
Gotta admit, since crafting the ‘stache, I creep myself out every time I catch my reflection, but I fit right in here at the All-Star festivities in St. Louis. An old man in a Mets hat even asked me for my autograph (he thought I was Thomas E. Dewey until his caretaker reminded him that Dewey died in the early ’70s). So I did the right thing, lied and told him I was Dewey’s son.
That was a stellar start to what turned out to be a pretty disappointing day.
Because after only three outs were recorded in the Futures Game the sky turned black, thunder cracked and it rained… and rained… and rained…
A lot.
After walking the concourse for four hours, drinking my weight in beer and buying more overpriced All-Star trinkets than one person will ever need, me and my buddy decided to book.
So we met some friends, went to a bar and watched the Cardinals beat the Cubs.
Good friends, good game, good times.
And today is gonna get even better. Admittedly, I’ve never been a fan of the Homerun Derby. Watching it on TV is about as boring as watching Nascar: boring! But I have a feeling that being there, in right field, in prime homerun territory, it’s going to be something to remember — especially if I snag some homers using the swagger and intimidation factor of my new accoutrement: the Lady Killer ‘stache.
Watch out!
In order that my aging father can find me easily during and camera shots of right field, I’ll be donning my 1980s era Montreal Expos jersey and cap — making this a special occasion indeed.
So here we go, folks… All-Star fun in full effect! I will fight my way down to get a word with Erin… and in case you missed that Lady Killer, here are some more photos:
The Stan Musial statue is quite stubborn and refuses to allow “FOX” to be shown in its entirety:
Pirates prospect, Brad Lincoln, signs autographs while secretly pouting that he’s in the Pirates organization:
US America rocked by St. Louis Cardinal hats… very cool:
A kid fighting to stay on his feet… and dry:
Me, rockin’ the ‘Spos cap with my friends Brian (left) and J.W. (right). As I write this, Brian is heading out to Iraq for another tour. Keep he and his family in your thoughts.
Alright y’all… hate me ‘cuz I’m gonna catch a homerun tonight, just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right (even when I’m wrong).
Peace,
Jeff
Who Are You?
We almost lost another one on Wednesday night. While people were busy mourning the death of Michael, Erin almost slipped away. But more importantly, with her would have slipped away Jeff’s chances of ever getting his date with Erin Andrews. See, this is the weekend when it all happens. This is the weekend when Jeff, if he manages to stay sober and focused, will finally make good on a quest he was given by god. Well, a god of the MLBlogosphere, at least.
And that chance was almost taken away. I just hope that this event serves as a reminder to my friend that he must take nothing for granted while….questing. Times change and if we don’t adjust, we lose out. For instance, my friend likes to remind me of how the final out of the 2006 World Series involved Brandon Inge swinging wildly outside of the strike zone. But now that same man is representing the American League and Detroit in his first All-Star appearance.
Perhaps we will see a similar change in Jeff this weekend as he stop swinging wildly and finally embraces the porn-stache over which he waxed so eloquently the other day. Perhaps this testosterone fueled accoutrement could provide the same luck for him that it showered on Keith Hernandez.
Or perhaps this weekend will be just one more of those odd “what just happened” events where we try to forget all about it and hope to god that no one ever brings it up over dinner.
The choice rests in one man’s hands. So tell us Mr. Lung, what will it be? Are you Keith Hernandez or are you the woman with a squirrel between her breasts? The world needs to know.
-A
An Inconvenient All-Star
I really haven’t had that exciting of a life. There
are a lot of things I wish I would have done, instead of just sitting
around and complaining about having a boring life. So I pretty much
like to make it up. I’d rather tell a story about somebody else.
– Kurt Cobain (1964-1994)
Instead of complaining about who isn’t going to the All-Star Game, I’d like to tell you a story about someone who is going to the All-Star Game:
Me.
Luckily, one of my best friends is a Cardinals season ticket holder. And besides being the proud owner of Quincy, IL’s finest bar and grill (a place where even Mike Shannon has been known to drink) he also has a kind heart and agreed to take me along for all of the All-Star thrills, including acting as my official wing-man in my misguided quest for Erin Andrews glory. Yes, that is still going on. Admittedly, overcoming such built-in adversity will not be an easy assignment; it will be easier than overcoming the struggle against Nazi Germany (don’t tell Al Gore) but, dear readers, it will not be easy – especially since so many deserved, albeit inconvenient, All-Stars will not be present.
Yet that does not mean they should not be recognized for their All-Starredness, no matter the capacity… so here are your RSBS All-Star snubs of 2009 whom I will proudly represent in St. Louis next week:
Mark Reynolds
Just like that frat guy named Hunter and his impervious flesh pursuit at the bar on $5 pitcher night, yeah, he strikes out an awful lot. But he also surprises you every once in a while and hits some big-time bombs… or bombshells, whichever the case may be.
Mark Sanford
Stealing bases is one thing. Stealing taxpayer money to bankroll an 8-year long international affair? Now that’s All-Star material… because, well, it takes balls. Balls of steel.
Stephen Strasburg
Being the most popular man in Major League Baseball without ever having played a Major League Baseball game is certainly something to tip your cap towards. Just wait until you see the kind of velocity he can generate with those ears! I promise you: he is the best pitcher EVER in the HISTORY OF THE WORLD!
Sarah Palin
No one likes a quitter, but unlike Manny Ramirez, at least Palin looks good while doing it.
And finally…
Milton Bradley
As an unabashed Cardinal fan, there are about about 30 million reasons why this guy is a true All-Star. Obviously, not one of them includes playing good, fundamentally sound baseball.
Don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
Peace,
Jeff
***SEND US YOUR FILIBUSTERS****
Something on your mind? Want to see Jeff and Al sweat (separately, not together, eww)? Think you got a real stumper? Send us your Filibuster question(s) by commenting or emailing them to us at kraulung@gmail.com.
***Pictures of Allen shot-gunning Old Styles also welcome.
Demented Yet Debonair
With the disputed elections in Iran this past weekend following hot on the heels of Kim Jong Il’s announcement that his third son will take over the reins of a dysfunctional but nuclear-armed North Korea, we here at RSBS started to wonder who would take the crown as king of the crazies if we actually did the research. Luckily, the interns had nothing better to do while Jeff and I watched some interleague tom-foolery and they came up with this objective and quantitatively analysed list. So, without further ado, we present the results of the very first RSBS “Demented yet Debonair” contest.
Honorable Mention:
Hugo Chavez
If at first you
don’t succeed, nationalize! Now, I’m aware that this could also be
America’s motto right now but Hugo has been doing it for so many years
now that he’s an old pro. On top of that, rumor has it that after the
recent introduction of Coke Zero to the country of Venezuela, President
Chavez promptly banned it on vague charges of healthiness. This coming
from a man who drinks enough coffee in one day to single-handedly
support Juan Valdez’s retirement. El Presidente, we salute you.
1st Runner Up:Mahmoud Ahmadinejad
It’s not
just the snazzy gray suit worn without a tie or the oft repeated urge to wipe
Israel off the map. No, Mahmoud has that little something extra that
makes you think he’s capable of so much more. Maybe it’s the malevolent
twinkle in his eye. Maybe it’s his ability to go from zero to rabid
anti-Semite in 4 seconds flat. Or maybe it’s how he flummoxed all the
pundits and wiped out the opposition in this past weekend’s elections.
Whatever it is, the Iranian president will always be a contender.
Runner Up:Kim Jong Il
In a region where political longevity is often measured in fractions of years, the Kim family has managed to hold onto power for several decades now. How do they do it? Well, let’s just say that it has nothing to do with extra doses of the warm fuzzies. And Kim Jong Il’s announcement that his son, Kim Jong Un, will take over upon his demise combined with new nuclear sabre-rattling just kind of makes observers scratch their heads and wonder what is going on. However, knowing that Mr. Kim is a huge movie buff, I bet the picture all looked much clearer and much better in his head.
Sadly, despite all the craziness in the world today, there can only be one winner of this year’s “Demented yet Debonair” contest. And I don’t think any of our readers will be surprised to see….
WINNER:Bud Selig
Yep, although Commissioner Selig hasn’t done anything too wild recently, he still has done quite a bit to earn this honor. There was the infamous tied All-Star game and his non-action during the steroid era. He also bears a lot of the blame for the out of control inflation within baseball that has driven many fans out of the park and left it open only to corporate bigwigs and smarmy lawyers. But more importantly, Bud Selig created Alex Rodriguez and Barry Bonds and that’s unforgivable. Granted, he may not be looking to blow up the world or start the Bolivarian revolution but he has besmirched the good name of baseball. That’s not something we look lightly on here at RSBS. I suppose that if he sent Erin Andrews to come and convince us otherwise, though, at least half of us would listen.
-A
Credits:
-Thanks to L for the Coke Zero story
Lord, What Have I Done?
Make one declaration to the worldwide interwebosphere about how you’re going to do everything in your power to land a date with the most beautiful woman in sports broadcasting and suddenly you’re considered a creepazoid stalker who could use a lesson or two in social tact.
Creepazoid? Maybe. Tactless? Probably. Stalker? No, sir.
I made my intentions very clear; and I’m pretty sure I was a perfect gentleman. It’s 2009, y’all, and the internets is where it’s at. I mean, you can do everything on this crazy series of tubes: order takeout, save money on your car insurance, get Twitter-blocked by Barry Zito. Why should chasing Erin Andrews be any different?
“But, Jeff,” my mother said, “what if your girlfriend reads this?”
“My girlfriend does not read this blog, Mom.”
Boy, was I wrong.
I tried to play down my actions of sneaking around my girlfriend’s back to get a real shot at Ms. Andrews, but she wasn’t as understanding as I had hoped. At least now she knows; and I am happy to report that she hasn’t broken up with me over this so things are working out pretty well. I mean, let’s face it, a couple of cigarette burns to the chest are well worth her allowing me to continue on with my special project.
Still, there is just one small problem: Erin Andrews is a lot more mobile than I. And, well, ESPN hasn’t helped me with passing on my messages (sweet as they all are).
Fear not!
What Fulbright Scholar would let such foibles deter him from accomplishing his task?
Indeed, I have a plan. You see, I bought tickets to the 2009 All-Star Game in St. Louis. I’ll be there for all the fan festivities: old-timers game, home-run derby, futures game — four days of pure debauchery — and a possible encounter with Ms. Andrews herself… that is, as long as Joba Chamberlain doesn’t get in my way (but who would make him an All-Star this year anyway?).
Hate me ‘cuz I got skillz, just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
Peace,
Jeff
A Lemon Scented Exhortation
First, I want to applaud my friend, Mr. Lung, for manning up and taking the challenge presented to him yesterday. While I know the battle will be arduous and the spoils of war far from certain, all of us here at RSBS take pride in seeing one of our own step forward and say, “Yes, I do want to be a hero.” And Jeff, we will also be here for you when you are unceremoniously shot down and return grieving to the RSBS bosom. We will wipe the tears from your eyes while whispering softly the immortal words of Homer Simpson, “You tried your best and you failed miserably. The lesson is, never try.”
In all honesty, though, I think that if anyone can answer this throwing down of the gauntlet, it’s Jeff. He’s the kind of guy who, when life gives him lemons, takes those lemons home and cuts them up so they can be stuck into freshly opened bottles of Corona. It’s one of the many reasons why we get along so well. I just hope that he at least mentions me when he finally meets Ms. Andrews. And then tries to set me up with her sister.
There is only one other challenge where Mr. Lung would have been so well equipped to confront and overcome the obstacle, at least according to what he says. Here it is, in his own words. “…When it comes to the dance floor, dear Erin, I got moves galore.” Oh yeah? Think the two of you could top these guys?
Actually, I really hope so.
The weekend is over. Long live the weekend!
-A
The Filibuster
My challenge to you, Jeff, is to get a date with Erin Andrews. Or at
least get her to answer your email/Tweet, Facebook poke, etc.
-Jane
Confessions of a She-Fan
__________________________________________
For well over a year now, The Filibuster has been the weekly RSBS medium for sounding off on baseball and politics’s most important issues.
Dear readers, this week is no exception.
Indeed, my freakish obsession with sports’ most beautiful sideline reporter, the one and only Erin Andrews, has finally left the long creepish confines of my mind and unleashed its potentially psychotic repercussions on the public. For Jane Heller of Confessions of a She-Fan has thrown down the proverbial gauntlet and kicked my poor self-esteemed ^ss into working my hidden magical charm to — at the very least — make contact with her highness… and see where the magic takes me (us).
Fear not! I am no Joba Chamberlain. While my advances may be thwarted on a regular basis, they never cause the receiver to curl her lip in disgust (that generally takes place only once I’ve gone on to the next victim lovely lady).
So, how will I go about this endeavor? Jane suggests “email/Tweet, Facebook poke, etc”… and while those tools will certainly find good use in my mission, I would like to start with a banging first impression:
When it comes to the religion of baseball, I am anything but laodicean!
Oh, and when it comes to the dance floor, dear Erin, I got moves galore.
Hold on to your seats y’all… this is gonna be one scandalous shameless wild ride.
Don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
Peace,
Jeff
***SEND US YOUR FILIBUSTERS****
Something on your mind? Want to see Jeff and Al sweat (separately, not together, eww)? Think you got a real stumper? Send us your Filibuster question(s) by commenting or emailing them to us at kraulung@gmail.com.
***Pictures of Allen doing something bad also welcome.
A New All-Star Team
There comes a point in the season where we sit back, take a deep breath and wonder why baseball doesn’t have cheerleaders. I mean, the WNBA has cheerleaders, why not MLB? But never fear, faithful readers. After much deliberation and some top of the line work by the interns, we have a special gift for you: the RSBS all-star cheerleading team.
Alyssa Milano
Since the squad is created to further our love for and appreciation of baseball, it seems only natural that Ms. Milano, the black widow herself, would lead this team. Just keep her far, far away from Justin Verlander. We don’t need him to go Barry Zito on us.
Allison Stokke
Despite Ms. Stokke’s tangential at best relation to baseball, we give her a position on our team because, well, because she’s pretty and we like looking at her. Do I really need more of a reason than that?
Erin Andrews
Although not a choice that I would normally make, Ms. Andrews makes the team out of respect to my friend, Mr. Lung. And at least we can point out that her relationship to baseball is well-documented and ongoing. Welcome to the team.
Jane Heller
Although a bit of a dark-horse contender, Ms. Heller routinely establishes her bona fides, especially after the Yankee Stadium program dust-up earlier this year. As if that weren’t enough, she’s also the top ranked MLBlogs fan blogger and that counts for something in our book. We’ll just have to ignore the fact that she’s a Yankee lover.
Anyway, although it’s a small squad, we think you’ll agree that it’s also a very impressive group. And we really hope that our honorees take it in good fun because honestly, we’re really just jealous of them. I mean, who wouldn’t want to date Barry Zito? Well, as long as he didn’t Tweet about it.
-A
Ban, Ban, Everywhere a Ban
Having barely recovered from my colleague’s audacious yet titillating post from yesterday, which featured the buxom awesomeness of one Erin Andrews, I am sure you can imagine how exhausted I was this afternoon. I was so worn out that I almost didn’t even have the energy to be shocked at the following news stories:
- United Kingdom Bans Michael Savage for Being a Ranting A-Hole
- University of Illinois at Chicago Bans Students from Shaking Hands (thanks a lot, swine flu, how are the kids gonna hook up now?)
- MLB Bans Manny Ramirez for Testing Positive for PEDs
Okay, I admit, that last one isn’t really all that shocking considering the myriad priors of Manny Ramirez buffoonery. Still, to be banned for 50 games? Now that is saying something! Kudos to Major League Baseball for throwing the hammer at a big-time rule-breaker not named J.C. Romero!
While the entire social networking world is going wild over this steroid ban by Tweeting and Facebooking and MySpacing and Moshpitting opinions at lightning speed, let us not lose sight of the fact that there is an awful lot of banning going on in the free world — some warranted (Manny), some not (UIC students).
And like most things trendy, tired and trite, RSBS strives to get in on the action. So here is a short list of things that must be banned in the very near future:
BANNED: Paula Abdul’s Sobriety!!!
Wonder why American Idol ratings are down? You think Adam Lambert and Simon Cowell can carry the show? Ha! Think again, squarepants. Give me a whacked out loopy Paula and I’ll show you some damn ratings!
BANNED: Kyle Farnsworth’s Glasses!!!
They are not helping! A 7.56 ERA? Opponent BA of .314? Somebody get this guy some steroids! Stat!
BANNED: Paying Attention to Rod Blagojevich!!!
Seriously, does anyone really care anymore?
BANNED: Space-Ball!!!
Now that Virgin is revolutionizing space travel, just think of how many asterisks we will need once baseball is being played there! Stop it now while we can!
And finally…
BANNED: The Yankees’ Ability to Beat the Red Sox!!!
Oh, wait, we already did that.
Don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
Peace,
Jeffy
Red State Blue State
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