Results tagged ‘ Thanksgiving ’
We have many reasons to be thankful this time of year. Of course Jeff is still aglow from the Cardinals winning the World Series and I still get a heart flutter when I think back to the final out between the Tigers and Yankees. Add in Verlander’s Cy Young and MVP awards and how could I not be a grateful person?
But more than that, we are thankful for all of our readers who make writing this blog so much fun. And of course, we’d like to show you how grateful we are by sharing our gift from the Pass the Crown contest. If you haven’t already sent a picture to RSBSblog@gmail.com showing why you’re RSBS‘s biggest fan, there’s still time to do so.
Happy Thanksgiving from all of us and please try to stay out of mom’s way unless you know what you’re doing.
Admit it. It may be Monday, but your mind is already on Thursday — Thanksgiving — the one day of the year where your sole responsibility is to eat yourself into a coma, sprawl out on the couch and watch football for 7 hours while catnapping as necessary.
You get all of that for the small price of being thankful.
And what do I have to be thankful for this year?
I’m thankful for the 2011 Cardinals. For the second time in six years I’m bragging about being a champion. And I got to be a part of it by going to the first two games. HOT DANG!
I’m thankful that, as always, whenever the Cubs triumph (Theo) they also manage to fail (Zambrano).
I’m thankful that Rick Perry has disappointed, that Herman Cain has self-destructed and Sarah Palin has invisiblized.
I’m thankful that I think I can get away with making up words.
But most of all, I’m thankful that I’ve never been punched by Mike Tyson.
Happy Thanksgiving Week Monday!
Since it’s Thanksgiving, I’m not going to be here very long today. But I want to take a couple minutes and add on to what Mr. Lung had to say yesterday.
Without a doubt we are very thankful to have readers who come visit us day after day. Without you, there wouldn’t be much point to what we do.
And despite the fact that this will inevitably be taken as a weakness and exploited by my friend and co-blogger in the very near future, I’m very thankful to have a buddy like Mr. Lung in my corner.
But as we work our way painfully through another NFL season and watch the Lions add to their incredible record of futility, I’m thankful for the Tigers and their ability to at least give us Michiganders a little hope. Victor Martinez may not be Pudge but maybe he’s the missing piece the Tigers have been lacking the past couple seasons. Point is, he’s hope. And hope is something in short supply these days, both in Michigan and the US.
So, enjoy your turkey and be careful as you navigate family that comes around once a year. Despite the potential landmines, it really is the start of the most wonderful time of the year.
Dear readers, I can hardly wait to jump in the car and spend four deadlocked hours sitting on the southbound on I-55 while night falls on my west-central Illinois family as they talk as much s*** about me as they can before I get there. Oh, if only every day could be so special!
We at RSBS don’t ever want to be trite; but hell, it’s Thanksgiving, so we gotta give thanks. Thanks to you (for reading). Thanks to my parents (for making me, even if it was in the backseat of a car at a run down Motel 6 outside of Disneyland). Thanks to the Cardinals (for making me think my team has a chance every year).
That stuff is easy.
But life is much more complex than that, and so too are the abstracts that must be recognized, appreciated and acknowledged.
For example, the picture at the top right of this article. Yes. That is Michael Jackson. And yes. He is chugging some nasty vodka while flanked by two midget groupies. See, he’s not as weird as you thought. Back in the early days, when he was just raising tigers and being best friends with monkeys and sleeping in souped-up tanning beds, he was pretty friggin’ chill.
THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!
On the political tip, where it takes quite a bit of searching to find anything worth my thanks, I am pleased that the new majority leaders are actual
human beings and not blood-sucking money-hungry lobbyist-lovin’ big-business-bailin’-out corporate-drone-piggin’ bible-belt-thumpin out-of-touch neanderthals Americans.
THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!
And, yes, I know we have a long way to go before pitchers and catchers report, but let me just say: I am very thankful that I am a whacked out baseball nut and not married to any of the other sports. Don’t get me wrong, I love football; but I don’t LOOOOOOOOVE football. It’s just not tangible. I respect what they do, but it’s a team sport divided by uncontrollable personalities. Elaborate celebrations in the end zone when your 2-7 team is down by 20 points in the 4th quarter? Taunting your opponent ‘cuz you FINALLY got a first down, after 13 consecutive failures? Spitting in a guy’s face? Please. I’d like to see Brandon Marshall or Vince Young or Albert Haynesworth talk crazy to Mike Scioscia.
THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!
For those of you counting, there’s only 146 more days til Spring Training 2011!
Have a very thankful and reflective holiday. And please, don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
Just because the Thanksgiving holiday is officially over doesn’t mean we should stop giving thanks; and today, dear readers, I am thankful that my family got to spend these precious sunny days off with me in my home.
I’ve written about the blessings of my nephew Caleb before. I’ve also mentioned the potential baseball family divide inherent in his parenting (his mom/my sister is a Cardinals fan, his dad a Cubs fan). But when it comes to raising a fine young boy, I don’t doubt those two’s combined credentials at all — even if one day he does decide to don a blue cap with a red “C” on it.
But y’all know me. And I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t try to persuade this youth to the best of my abilities now, while I have the chance. That’s why the second his daddy stepped out of the house, I immediately began preaching to Caleb the wondrous merits of one Yadier Molina. So impressed was Caleb that he decided he’d like to take it a step further. So we did:
Like I thought, once he put on that jersey and that interlocking “STL”, the kid was just beside himself. He couldn’t stop dancing for joy! He moved so much that my camera couldn’t get a solid, non-blurry picture of him, but still, you get the point.
Hate me ‘cuz I lobby for the Redbirds on impressionable youth, just don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.
In honor of Albert Pujols’ second consecutive MVP award, RSBS wanted to congratulate him and his self-proclaimed biggest fan. And when faced by such a daunting task we turn, as we often do, to poetry.
‘Twas the eve of Thanksgiving and all over the net,
Writers were scurrying to finish posts and then get.
Jeff sat at home, quietly nursing a beer,
Mourning the end of yet one more year.
Leafing through catalogues and picking out faves,
Hinting at presents that could sure make him rave.
When out in the blogsphere the bloggers set a-chatter
And Jeff knew immediately what was the matter.
His eyes both lit up like a bulb in a fixture,
Then swiveled then focused on a framed Pujols picture.
Picking up Albert and dancing around,
Weeping tears of joy as he fell to the ground,
He toasted himself and thought “This truly is living!
More hardware for Albert, what a happy Thanksgiving!”
One of the wonderful things about the interwebs is how they allow us to time travel. Well, into the past at least. Which really isn’t time travel at all. Anyway, what I’m really trying to say is that I want to go back to a post that my friend Mr. Lung put up last week. Now, I can rally behind the Thanksgiving and giving thanks sentiments included in the entry but I have to take issue with the picture he included. It’s not that I dislike the picture. In fact, I think it’s adorable. Rather, the problem is that it is a complete misrepresentation of the two of us.
Check that. It’s not so much a misrepresentation as it is a mislabeling. See, on the most basic, phenomenal (in the Kantian sense) level, Jeff is shorter than I am. A lot shorter. I don’t mean any disrespect by this but it’s true. I am several inches taller than my friend and any graphic representation of the two of us should reflect this fact. Also, I don’t wear lipstick but Jeff has been known to sell Mary Kay products to supplement his income. So, there’s that.
However, there is one thing out there that is not misrepresentational and that is the new latest leaders up on the MLBlogs website. I have to tell you, it’s pretty amazing that you all have managed to keep us in the top five for months on end, especially considering how much we’ve been slacking as of late. But, it just goes to show that there ain’t no party like an RSBS party because an RSBS party don’t quit. Except for on major holidays. Thank you for indulging us and we hope to see you back here soon.
In just a short while, we US Americans will begin that hallowed tradition of spending quality time with family by gorging ourselves on a bounty of food, drinking excessive amounts of Johnnie Walker Black and falling asleep on the couch only to wake up with unidentifiable aches and pains in places never before felt.
Well, maybe that’s just me.
In any case, given the copious amounts of bull**** recently posted by my colleague, Mr. Krause, whose intellectual ineptitude forces him to fall into that age-old Blue State trap of logorrhea where valid questions are only answered with an arsenal of equally unrelated questions, I have found solace in you, Dear Readers, and your ability to see that — as usual — I am right.
In fact, since this time of year is all about giving thanks, I am going to rightfully refrain from causing any further damage to Mr. Krause’s ego by letting him be (just for today) and instead would like to take a moment to give my most wholehearted thanks.
Indeed, there are many things to be thankful for today. I’m thankful that the Cubs have gone 100 years without a World Series title. I am thankful that the Cardinals are actually considering filling some left-handed reliever roles (even if it is by courting a couple of scrubs). I am thankful that I live in the Second City — that we have two firery baseball icons who are willing to make fools of themselves by performing a ridiculous rap song for the good of Chevrolet; and I am thankful that senior citizens ride the CTA free, fat senior citizens ride two for the price of one, which is also free. I’m also thankful that Dubya is on his way out, that an Iowan turkey (ironically not Chuck Grassley this time) will be able to live a long, eaten-free life and that Minnesota has replaced Florida (for now) as the state where your vote might not really count.
But most of all, I am thankful for you, Dear Readers. For it is you that truly makes RSBS the special little happy place where baseball-politico egos, arguments and aspirations go to make sweet, sweet love. And for that, Mr. Krause and I couldn’t be more grateful.
We have given our staff the rest of the week off. Allen has left for that cavernous pit of despair otherwise known as Los Angeles (or Where Souls Go to Die) while I will be spending the rest of the week reflecting on my podunk roots with my quaint family in Springfield, IL — once home to Abraham Lincoln, Barack Obama and of course, Me.
Happy Thanksgiving to all and don’t hate me ‘cuz I’m right.