Results tagged ‘ Movies ’
Steinbrenner says the Yankees aren’t for sale. A few billion would be tough to turn down though, so do you believe him?
I still remember the first time I missed out on my first billion. In fact, it was just a couple days ago when no one took me up on my brilliant idea to go mine asteroids. Seriously people, where are your priorities?
Selling the Yankees, though? A team with a new park, an amazing history and a corporate and real fan-base unmatched anywhere else in baseball? If the Dodgers are worth $2.175 billion, a team with broke-down finances and a fickle group of fans, you can only imagine that the Yankees would fetch a price well north of that.
But, the Yankees are not for sale, at least not according to Hal Steinbrenner. And honestly, I don’t blame him. For a guy like Frank McCourt, the Dodgers were simply a means to an end. For a family like the Steinbrenners, the Yankees are a way of life. The Yankees without a Steinbrenner would be a like a snickers without the peanuts. Sure, it’s still tasty but it’s no longer a Snickers. It’s a Milky Way.
So yeah, I believe Hal. Even if I can’t help but picturing him responding to the question of selling the Yankees with a soothing, “I’m sorry, Dave. I’m afraid I can’t do that.”
The other part of the equation is that although the Yankees may be worth $2.5 billion today, just imagine how much they’ll be worth in another few years. The Yankees are more than a baseball team, they’re a global brand easily recognizable on the hats of millions of people around the world. There is practically no large city in the world where you can walk around without seeing someone wearing a Yankees’ cap. Hell, holding on to the Yankees isn’t even speculation. It’s just plain and simple good sense.
Meanwhile, the rest of us are going to have to be content with our possible billion dollar schemes. For me, that means dreaming of space asteroids and slowly going mad. “Dave, my mind is going. I can feel it. I can feel it. My mind is going. There is no question about it.”
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In response to the twin shocks of the Great Depression and World War II, the allied powers decided to cooperate on a system that would hopefully prevent another catastrophic financial collapse. The plan they came up with, the Bretton Woods system, created two of the most powerful financial institutions in the world today, the International Monetary Fund (IMF) and the World Bank.
By convention, the IMF is headed by a European and the World Bank by an American. And since voting is by quota, not by a one vote per person system, it’s relatively easy for this practice to continue. That doesn’t mean the unwritten policy is always appreciated, though. For instance, the World Bank is in the process of electing a new president who is not the top choice of the African continent and most of the developing world, the constituencies most served by the Bank. If you’re curious as to who this person might be, wait until about the two minute point in this video and you’ll see him:
Yes, he’s the former President of Dartmouth. Yes, he’s a founder of Partner’s in Health which has ostensibly helped many poor people in Haiti access health care. However, Mr. Jim Yong Kim is not a good dancer. He also has no background in economics despite that being somewhat germane to the subject matter. Actually, let’s really simplify this. Bud Selig is more qualified to be MLB Commissioner than Kim is to be World Bank president. Man, that statement even scares me.
Robots do pretty much everything these days. They build cars, they do the vacuuming. Some of the more nefarious ones get sent back from the future to kill unsuspecting young men while others freakishly decapitate fiancees leading to epic quotes like, “That’s not your arm. That’s my bitch’s arm.”
Ok, so maybe the last two aren’t real but robots have advanced by leaps and bounds. In fact, there’s a good chance that someday soon one of those leaps or bounds could be by a robot chasing you down in the streets. Don’t believe me? Check this out. If that doesn’t scare you, how about this little factoid? Your grandkids are going to have sex with robots.
One thing you don’t have to worry about, though, is robots taking over baseball.
Yep, we’re safe for now.
The run up to summer blockbuster season is a lot like baseball’s offseason. Lots of rumors, lots of movement and everyone talking about who’s going to do what and who will be the winners and losers. Expectations mount as we get closer to the start of the season, as we start seeing all the previews that look great. With both baseball and movies, though, it’s hard to tell what you’re really going to get until opening day.
Not that this will stop me from drooling in anticipation. I mean, come on. The Tigers have Cabrera and Prince at the corners! Sure, that’s an exponentially compounded defensive liability but the prospects at the plate are simply mouthwatering. Kind of like the Alien prequel, Prometheus:
And if that isn’t enough to whet your appetite, how about a little brilliance in advertising:
Summer 2012. Was there a better time to be alive?
For the Love of the Game/Slaying the Dragon
I don’t know tidily snot.
For as much as I don’t know about stats, player history, and some of the marquee moments, I do have the love. Even with my rampant stupidity of baseball knowledge, I have the love.
When I’m not sitting with my friend Jeffy at a game or on his couch, him schooling me, I have the love.
It’s been said many times here at Setting the Mahmud that the NBA is my true sport, but even I admit: there is nothing like baseball. I reminded myself of this the other night while watching For the Love of the Game. The pain of Kevin Costner’s character is so real and true to life it’s uncanny. The pain of ending a career. The pain of romance gone bad. Pain of failed goals. But despite all that, you might still have a friend who believes in you, which summons the strength to get your mojo back.
These are trying times in Chicago. Both ball clubs will probably be bad this year. It’s January. It’s cold. Sometimes, like a ballplayer, you wish you could just be traded to another team, in another (warmer) city. But that’s not how life works. You have to take what you have and make it great. Baseball life can be like a swinging bass line or a blistering hot trumpet solo. We swing high and we swing low. Players leave, lovers leave, and sometimes you’ll get your heart broken. Being a fan can be turmoil.
And sometimes just maybe you’ll play life well enough to win it all. It’s a noble game. A pureness that wraps around you like a warm embrace holding you tight, one that doesn’t let go. It’s a timeless art that makes you feel like you’re wearing wings.
Beware of the darkness that lies in the cave of your life. Slay the dragon. It can make you feel weak. It can break you if you let it. It can make you feel like a sucker. Accept that pain is part of the process of baseball, part of LIFE.
And let’s heal together. The Cubs will be great someday. The White Sox will be great again too. It will be cathartic and it will be grand.
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This has the potential to knock Field of Dreams from its perch.
Don’t hate me. ‘Cuz I’m right.
Rool: [to the tavern cat ) You are so beautiful! Your eyes! Your whiskers! I have to kiss you!
My behavioral standards have long kept me from attending the Cub’s Convention. Sorry. Sometimes you gotta rob a cop, pee on Ronny Woo Woo and knock out Sam Zell! BUT, I still have my SPIES so I know…
Kerry Wood and his pocket missile are back!
I’d like to see how the sausage is made, Mr. Epstein.
I suspect Wood will probably be gone at the trading deadline to a real contender, but dumb Cubdom is happy for the moment. Yes, Theo let me down a little by letting the children have their hero back. But oh well.
OK KIDS LET’S HAVE A PIZZA PAHHHTYYY!!!!
What is this? Contenders might be looking for someone just like him if he can still bring the goods in the 6th, 7th, 8th innings.
I understand that Woody wants to be the next Mr. Cub but why not end your career with a winner? He’ll get what he wants when he comes back at the end. It’s his choice, I guess.
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“Some places are like people: some shine and some don’t.”
Those who know me know I like to do odd things, like throw myself off bridges, eat cuttlefish or play H.O.R.S.E. … with myself. But that’s not why I called.
In the spirit of odd things, I thought I’d use the funniest movie of all time to deal with all the MLB Hall of Fame talk.
Congrats! You made it out alive, Barry!!!
As we celebrate Barry Larkin’s entry to the hallowed Hall (even though it took three stupid years) I thought we should take a look at those who didn’t quite make it out of Overlook Hotel, the ones who will probably be there a while.
Jack Torrance: Do you have the slightest idea what a moral and ethical principle is? Do you?
I can’t out think a potato, but I know this: Piazza, Kent, Bagwell and Big Mac aren’t getting in. EVER. And I don’t think I have to explain why. But I digress…
Little pigs, little pigs, let me come in. Not by the hair of your chiny-chin-chin? Well then I’ll huff and I’ll puff, and I’ll blow your house in. [Axes the door]
Wendy, you’ve got a big surprise coming to you. You’re not going anywhere.
From one Jack to another… of course, Allen’s Jack Morris slipped through the cracks again. I feel for the kid (Allen), but I personally believe Jack will be dead before he leaves the snowy mountaintop of baseball’s purgatory labyrinth.
God, I’d give anything for a drink. I’d give my god-damned soul for just a glass of beer.
Good Luck, Lenny Dykstra… maybe next year… yeesh. And maybe stop talking for a while.
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“ No one in Russia believes in god.”
You know why? Because it’s cold! It’s cold there like it’s cold in Chicago right now!!
I know it’s not manly to act depressed while living in a wonderful place like this but, it’s cold. AND I’M NOT A REAL MAN.
Despite my depression, I know one thing that will bring me happiness. MONEYBALL PART TWO: EPSTEIN BRINGS THE PAIN! The Cubs win it all and Matt Damon stars as Theo Epstein. I’ve already completed the first scene:
I can tell you the license plate numbers of all six cars outside. I can tell you that our waitress is left-handed and the guy sitting up at the counter weighs two hundred fifteen pounds and knows how to handle himself. I know the best place to look for a gun is the cab or the gray truck outside, and at this altitude, I can run flat out for a half mile before my hands start shaking. Now why would I know that? Because my name is Theo Effin Epstein. THAT’S WHY.
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