Labor of Love

For months now, the idea of an NFL lockout has been in the back of most people's minds, but for me, it's all I think about (besides ponies, BBQ, and gambling). I used to work in the NFL, and still have a lot of friends who do, so I have a pretty good idea about what's at stake in the ongoing labor negotiations. But this post isn't about the legalities, or revenue sharing, or "kill-shots". It's about what I want to see from a fan's perspective. As always, would love to hear your thoughts and ideas.

No 18-game season: I'm not worried about 18 games from a concussion standpoint, a competitive balance standpoint, or from the inevitable weight I'll gain from two more weekends of chips and dip. It's that too much a good thing really isn't a good thing. For examples, see baseball and basketball. How much better would those sports be if baseball played 140 games or the NBA played 10 (just kidding - I love the NBA)? The inherent drama that builds throughout the NFL season is directly due to the importance placed on every game because there's only 16 of them! Plus, who wants to see the Bills vs. Panthers in a week eighteen match-up? (Caveat: if the NFL does go to an 18-game schedule, change the format of the playoffs. Have only one wildcard team in each conference, and have them face off against the worst division winner in the first round, with the team having the better record getting homefield. This will guard against what will inevitably happen this year - a 12-4 NFC team having to travel to an 8-8 Seattle team for the first round of the playoffs, and probably losing. The other three division winners all get byes, with the top 2 getting a home game in the divisional round.)

Consolidate Bye Weeks: Another scary by-product of an eighteen game schedule is the proposal of a second bye week during the season for all teams. Drew Magary from Deadspin and Kissing Suzy Kolber fame wrote about this pretty recently - basically saying that "Bye Weeks are Satan's Afterbirth." There's nothing worse during the middle of the season when you're trying to see where your team stacks up versus another and you can't because they've played an uneven number of games. Plus, it's a major advantage having your bye week after week seven versus week three (and if you have evidence to prove otherwise, shut up). Whether the league goes to eighteen games or not, let's stick with one bye week and let's try and jam these in a little more equitably. How about the NFC having all off one week, and the AFC the next? After weeks 8 & 9, and rotate each season? Done and done.

Monday Night Doubleheaders: Maybe I'm just getting older and grouchier, but I find it harder and harder to stay up to watch NFL Primetime games. It also seems like no fan really "wins" when it comes to Monday nights - too late for East Coast, too early for West Coast. I think the only people who are really happy live in the Dakotas. I say screw them. Let's play two every Monday. Start the "East Coast" game at 7:00pm and the "West Coast" at 10:00pm. Who cares if the 49ers have to play five Monday nighters? I won't be up to watch them - EAST COAST BIAS FOR LIFE!!

Thursday Nighters: Let's chill out with this. It's a cute concept, but fatally flawed. First off, it's on the NFL Network which I'm pretty sure only about 20% of the country even has. Second, it's pretty much the most awful thing you can do to the players (I know, this post isn't supposed to be about the players, but hearing them whine about these games definitely lowers my enjoyment of them). Third, and this might be blasphemy as a football fan, but sometimes I actually like to watch other things on TV, even other sports. Let's keep Thursdays to Thanksgiving (I do love the primetime game on Turkey Day) and while we're at it, let's have Dallas and Detroit rotate each year (why do I have to watch both play every year?). Also bring back the Saturday games in December, which actually isn't all that bad for players and gives us something to watch on Saturdays while college football goes on its annual 60 day pre-bowl games sabbatical. It also gets us married men out of holiday shopping, so there's that too.

Move the Super Bowl to a different date: Specifically, either the Sunday before Martin Luther King Day or the Sunday before President's Day. It's pretty much a given that 75% of the country's population will be worthless the Monday following the Super Bowl, so why not move it to a date where 75% of the people in this country have off the next day? Also, quit the Super Bowl being played in cold weather movement. It's stupid. When I'm rich and can afford to join the "Never Miss a Super Bowl Club", I don't want to go to Detroit or East Rutherford or Kansas City for a game I'm paying $2K to see. Give me San Diego, Tampa, New Orleans, Miami, or Atlanta please.

Re-price tickets: This is where the NFL needs to be really careful. The at-home experience of watching a game is getting better and better every season. Once 3D production goes full scale, you'll literally feel like you're at the game except it won't take you twenty minutes to go to the bathroom, beers won't cost $7, and you won't freeze your ass off. The NFL "product" looks much better with a full-stadium and with the demand that is out there for the NFL "product" it amazes me that some of these teams play in front of half-empty stadiums. Even if your team is HORRIBLE, you're only playing at home 8 times (regular season) over the course of 365 days! Stop the whole PSL scam, quit worrying about the secondary market, and don't make people pay for pre-season garbage games. In my opinion, if you can't consistently fill your stadium to 90% occupancy with season-tickets you either need to move the team (Jacksonville) or lower your prices (Detroit). Use the suite level and club level to cater to the corporate client; keep the regular bowl seats priced so that they're in reach for the common man (or woman).

That's about all I got - I could certainly get into some of the rule changes that are effecting the way the games are played right now, but that's truly an issue for the players and the owners to resolve. I'm all for making the game safer and extending the careers and lives of these guys that put themselves at risk every week. I also think NFL owners and teams have the right to make money. But as Justin Bieber so magnificently said last night in his acceptance speech for Performer of the Year at the American Music Awards "I wouldn't be here without the fans." Neither would the NFL.

How much would it take?

This post comes courtesy of a conversation I've had many times with friends, usually occurring around 3 a.m. after about a dozen gin and tonics. Basically, the question is how much would it take for you to do something absolutely horrifying, like hammer a nail through your tongue or listen to an entire Celine Dion CD. So let your imagination run wild and see if you can top some of these:

Going to a Justin Bieber concert (sober): I'm thinking the bidding starts here at around $250, plus the cost of a ticket. There are certainly worst ways to spend a couple of hours, but the combination of awful music and shrieking 13-year girls could result in permanent hearing damage. Better up this to $500, just to be safe.

Eating a raw egg: Potential salmonella poisoning and the inability to probably ever eat eggs again ups the ante a bit here. I'm going $75 for this stunt.

Wearing a pair of your friend's dirty boxers: Depends what kind of friends you run with. Mine? They look like the poster children for crabs and gonorrhea. $100 please.

Eating someone's dirty band-aid (body location unknown): This is a tough one. On one hand, it could have come off someone's hand covering a little cut. On the other, it could have been covering a scab on someone's ass. I think you have to play it safe here - $1,000.

Drink your own pee (8 oz.): First thing in the morning - $250. After a night of drinking Bud heavies - $750.

Watching two grandparents performing oral sex on each other: Clearly on a whole new payment scale. I say if you don't know them, $5K. If they're your grandparents, $100K. Can you imagine how awkward your conversation would be the next time you saw them? "Hey Grandma, is that a milk mustache?" Nasty.

Living in Boston (minimum of one year): Let's see - freezing cold, terrible accents, and three of the most annoying professional franchises in sports (sorry, hockey sucks). I'd need full relocation cost here. Put me down for $60K.

Living in L.A. (minimum of one year): Unlike Boston, the weather out west seems pretty nice. Except when you account for constant smog, mudslides, and potential earthquakes. The traffic is unbearable and the people suck. At least the girls are hot. $30K.

Getting a tattoo on your back that says "I have AIDS", while still single: Tough one here. Nothing like wearing the scarlet letter. Your beach days are pretty much over. And you're pretty much taking a blood test anytime you meet a new girl and they're still going to make you wear a condom. Ouch. I'm thinking seven figures here. $1.2 million.

The Kill Rule

I won't even begin to take credit for this, but it was too good not to share. Much respect to the author, who you can follow here on twitter. I give you 'The Kill Rule.'


A guy I worked with about a decade ago once told me about a theory he had for improving society. At the time, it seemed about psychotic an idea as you can ever tell someone you barely know in your workplace. But over the years, I have grown to realize that it’s the most genius idea I have ever heard.
The theory goes like this — everyone is allowed to kill one person. Kills can’t be transferred or sold or carried over like vacation days. You’re allowed to kill one person and one person only. Well, you can kill more if you want, but you’re only allowed to kill one person legally.

After that, you have to get a tattoo somewhere on your body where everyone can see it. The tattoo will indicate that you have already used your kill and present no immediate threat to anyone in your area.

To be fair, he told me this theory a long time ago, and I’m sure it’s far more detailed and thought-out than how I’m explaining it, but that’s the gist. On its face, it sounds insane. And it is, don’t get me wrong. But when you dig a little deeper, it would be the greatest thing to happen to society since the invention of Las Vegas.

I’m sure there are qualifications to the free murders. I don’t think he advocated smothering newborn babies or pushing cripples off roofs. But wouldn’t you be less likely to run your mouth at someone if they lacked a kill tattoo? And wouldn’t you walk around a whole hell of a lot happier knowing that you could snap the neck of the woman on your bus who is screaming into her phone about how much she loved last night’s episode of Jersey Shore?

And, in turn, wouldn’t you temper that sort of thing? If I knew someone could legally murder me for not holding a door open for a lady, I’d be way less of a prick at all times. Not that I don’t hold doors for ladies. I guess a better example would be farting in elevators. I’d knock that off tout suite.

Imagine you’re walking down an escalator where the understood rule is the left side of the escalator is for walkers and the right side is for those who wish to remain motionless. You’re walking down the left side, and there’s Jimmy NoMotionPants and his hipster glasses and canvas shoes rocking out to Death Cab For Cutie. If I’m running late for a meeting and my knife is sharpened, I could take him out like Rambo and continue about my day.

But then maybe I’d have to stop and schedule my tattoo appointment. I don’t know exactly. So there’s holes in this theory. I don’t know. I guess I’d like to stop sitting next to people on the bus who talk on their phones for 20 minutes about nonsense while I’m trying to listen to my Alanis playlist. Her emotion is so raw.

Me, Ray Rice, and DJ Jazzy Jeff

You may be wondering what I have in common with Baltimore Ravens running back Ray Rice and DJ Jazzy Jeff. Besides breathtaking athletic ability and incredible musical talent, we also share a birthday. That birthday also happens to be today, and at the ripe old age of 27, I find myself thinking a lot about the past and the future.

Aging certainly has its pluses. You can, um...well, actually...aging sucks. There's nothing good about getting older. You see friends less, you work more, you gain weight, and you lose your hair. It's baffling to me why anyone would actually want to celebrate their birthday. If I had my druthers, I'd simply let it pass with no acknowledgment at all.

Now, maybe I'm being overly negative because the stress of work and planning a wedding are making me borderline insane (if sales were dating, you could say I'm in an A.C. Green type slump). But in reality, I just long for the birthdays of my youth, where eating a piece of pizza didn't add five pounds and drinking a beer didn't leave me hungover in the morning. The days where you didn't go to class "because it's my birthday, dude" and you got all types of cards, cash, and presents from family and friends. The years when you were finally old enough to drive a car or smoke a cigarette. At one point in my life, I looked forward to turning 65, so I could retire with a pension and collect Social Security. Based on my current income and investment plan, I'll have enough money to retire at 94. And that's only if I die at 95.

There are still a lot of things to look forward to: kids, mounting debt, prostate exams, etc. Everyday I wake up thankful for another one though, and trust me, I know things could be a whole lot worse. And if DJ Pauly D can still beat up the beat at age 30, then I can still rock out with my cock out at 27. Let's party (at 5pm, when I get off work)!

Guilty Pleasures

No need for an explanation at this point.

9) French Fries - Is there any better side order or "vegetable" in the world than fries? The combination of salt, complex carbs, and grease is like an orgy for our taste buds. They are so good, in fact, that other foods have even tried to become them - remember these?

52) Weighing yourself in the morning after a monster bowel movement and convincing yourself that you're "dropping lbs." - I think this one is pretty self-explanatory.

117) Picture stalking on Facebook - We've all done it. I actually did it today. Always fun to see who got fat, who got hot, and who got gay.

101) Using buzzwords and phrases to sound smart - Try this in a meeting sometime. "At the end of the day, we need to circle back and focus on ROI & market segmentation. With that said, I spoke with our social media guru and he said that going forward, SEO has to be on our radar screen."

48) Taking an hour for lunch - Rare in this day and age of fast food and bag lunches (not to mention stuffy corporate settings), the one-hour lunch usually takes place on Friday or is combined with an off-site meeting. You still finish your actual lunch in ten minutes, but you spend the other fifty talking about your fantasy team, kids, or house. The hour-lunch usually results in the 3pm zone-out.

He did what?!?!

Breaking News: Mark McGwire used steroids and HGH during the 90's including his record breaking ’98 year where he hit 70 home runs. In other news, he also admitted to using toothpaste, toilet paper, and wearing shoes over the same time frame. Seriously, tell us something we don’t know. Look, we all get it, there’s an entire “era” in baseball where if you weren't using, you weren't trying, which in all honesty most likely continues today. Thing is, as fans do we really give a shit? I for one can remember racing home during the summer of ’98 to see if either Sosa or McGwire hit any bombs that night. I still probably have a VHS tape of McGwire's 62nd bomb at my mom's house, unless I taped Cinamax late night over it.

My question now is, what exactly is the downfall to steroid use? Obviously there isn’t a juice-up superstar out there, aside from maybe Jose Canseco, who will admit that steroids actually helped their career and their lives. I wish just once, one of these former superstar steroid users would come out and tell it like it is. “Yea, I used steroids during the 80’s and 90’s and ya know what? I got fucking paid, laid, and hit a shit load of home runs, which is probably the best feeling in the world, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything, including bigger testicles” Seriously, McGwire admitted to using starting in the early 90’s, twenty or so years ago, and he appears healthy, is back in baseball and probably still counts his gold coins like Scrooge McDuck on a nightly basis. Even if he keels over in the next ten years, I'd still take his life over say, RG$'s.

The only people in this scenario that I do feel bad for are for the players who chose not to stick needles in their ass and did it the legal way. Guys like Fred McGriff, who ended his career with 493 home runs, only 7 away from the elusive 500 that basically guarantees you a trip to Cooperstown. But honestly, what does 500 home runs in a career mean anymore? McGwire, Sosa, Palmerio? All to linked to PED's and douchebaggieness.

Another 48 Hours

No, this isn't a post about the classic 1990 film. It's a running diary of the forty-eight hours I just spent in Puerto Rico for a good friend's wedding. Since most of you that follow the OC know me, you'll enjoy the recap of the wedding weekend; for those of you who don't, I think the description of Old San Juan will be reason enough to read on. And for those who've already been to Puerto Rico and don't know me, you're shit out of luck.

Friday

5:30am - Wake up.

5:31am - Fall back asleep.

5:50am - Wake up (again). This time for good. Take a shower, finish packing, and make a LARGE pot of coffee. Clean the snow off of the car (yes, more snow), and depart for Philadelphia International.

9:00am - Board plane.

10:30am - Still sitting on tarmac.

4:00pm - Arrive in Old San Juan. Pretty eventless airplane ride except for the guy dipping cheese crackers in his water. That's a new one to me. Check into hotel. Cool boutique place close to everything. No TV, though. Going through withdrawal.

5:00pm - Meet up with the (soon-to-be) bride and groom and take a spur of the moment walking tour of Old San Juan. End up eating dinner at what we thought was a pretty authentic latin restaurant; turns out we ate at the Puerto Rican version of Friday's. My bad. Did have a money mojito and discovered the local beer of choice.

7:00pm - Connect with other friends in town for the wedding. Finish mojitos #2, 3, 4, 5, with some more Medalla Lights mixed in for good measure. Officially drunk. Put a Biggie song on the jukebox. If he was still alive, he'd be the Bono of hip-hop. Everybody's nodding their head to 'Juicy.'

10:00pm - Move to next bar. On the way, a drug addict/prostitute offers me sex. I resist. Getting better and better at salsa dancing as the night goes on.

3:00am - Basically a professional dancer. Time to get some rest.

Saturday

10:30am - Up and on our way to breakfast. Ate at a place Rachel Ray visited on her show, $40 a Day. Decent grub, but more importantly, cheap. And an excellent cup of coffee. I'm pretty sure a tourist can survive strictly on coffee, mojitos, and Medalla Lights in Puerto Rico.

12pm - At the beach. Wow. Twenty-four hours ago I was cursing Al Gore's name, now I'm swimming in 82 degree water hanging out with the groom's family. With the ceremony not till 6pm, we enjoyed the delights of a $16 burger at the beach bar while enjoying a truly spectacular day.

6pm - At the church, rocking my guayabera shirt. Beautiful girls all around (including mine) and also a few homeless people to add some character. Besides the ceremony starting an hour late and being completely in Spanish, I'd say it went pretty well.

8pm - Party time! From the church, we all walked down (probably 75 people in all) to the waterfront where the reception was being held. The streets in Old San Juan are extremely narrow, so our mass migration brought traffic pretty much to a standstill. People in their cars seemed really appreciative of the delay.


11pm - After filling my face with ceviche', paella, steak, and potatoes, I proceeded to get locked into a bathroom which I had to kick open Macgyver-style. After freeing myself, I showed my soon-to-be-bride the art of Spanish seduction.

2:30am - On the rooftop of our hotel, hanging out in the hot tub. Best friend 'Turbo' brings back a beautiful Italian bella, who just happens to date a European soccer player. I still think he had a shot, until he asked her if she liked pizza. Crash and burn. Time to go to sleep.

Sunday

11am - Dressed and ready to maximize beach weather. Attempt to purchase a coffee and pastry at the bakery up the street. Fail. Language barrier too much to overcome.

12:30pm - In the Caribbean for the final time til July 18th (honeymoon, holla). Even better day than Saturday. Wondering how difficult it would be to open a daquiri business in the islands.

2:30pm - Sitting in a cab to the airport with a couple from Minnesota. Classic accents.

4:30pm - Check the score of the Ravens game. Make a comment to a man in a Tom Brady jersey with a tribal calf tattoo and Crocs on. I win.

9:30pm - Back at home. Smooth flight and car ride. Easily a 60 degree difference in temperature, but only a three-hour flight. How is that possible?

10:30pm - Sleeping in bed, dreaming of mojitos, sangria, and Medalla Lights dancing in my head.