Archive for the ‘NBA’ category

Lake Tajoe (soft J) – parte uno

January 29, 2008

This past weekend, I went to Tahoe to snowboard (term used loosely) with Yosh Jackman, Oliver (let’s call him O.G.), Jeff (Caucasian), and Jeff (Asian). I decided to take pictures, because, well, I can do that without injuring myself, and there’s little else to do in Tahoe without running the risk of injury. To my knowledge, I have no contracts associated to my name that include any Vladamir Radmanovic or Kellen Winslow clauses, so I should be alright. Let’s get photo-dancin’.


The view from the LAX-Reno flight. The lone flight of the weekend that took off the day it was intended to. The flight itself was uneventful, but I (and the rest of the plane) wasn’t thrilled about having to endure a loud five-way conversation between the ladies going to a bachelorette party. NOBODY CARES ABOUT WHO CAN AND CAN’T SETTLE DOWN, ESPECIALLY WHEN YOU MAKE EVERYONE LISTEN WHEN ELECTRONICS AREN’T ALLOWED TO BE ON. Sorry about that.


When we got to Tahoe City, we stopped to get essentials – tortilla chips, beer, orange juice, frosted donettes. Duh. Pictured: O.G.


The next morning. O.G. and Jeff (Asian), the two most coordinated and experienced riders put on their gear and bindings in a coordinated and experienced fashion.


Yosh looked on and posed like he was drunk at 8 am. To my knowledge, he was not.


The drive to Squaw Valley. Jeff (Asian) was excited. So was half of O.G.


I still find it difficult to figure out a pose when I take a picture of myself. This pose has been loosely defined as “Apprehensive Hostage.”


That said, I tried for “Disinterested Hipster.” I think I failed, as not too many hipsters wear fleece pullovers from the Gap. I’m pretty square, kids.


Squaw was nice – the Olympics were here 48 years ago and they’ve kept it looking pretty high class. That way, you can pay hundreds of dollars to rent equipment, take lessons, and end up wondering if you’re single-handedly putting the children of Advil workers through Ive League schools.


Pre-board. Check out the uber-focus by Jeff (Asian).


Jeff (Caucasian)! He had a pretty good day until he hit a soft spot and needed ski patrol to help him find a ski that went flying off somewhere. And he’s good on snow, I can’t imagine what will happen to me if I keep convincing myself to go up and continue with snow sports.


Jeff (Asian) laughing to himself near the Olympic rings. To this day, nobody knows why.


O.G.’s cinnamon roll. Why did I take a picture of this? I have no idea. He seemed to enjoy it.


The view from the gondola up to the runs. Years ago, when I went with Big Daddy Eisner‘s family, the gondolas only sat four and swayed back and forth to the point where I had to start singing “American Pie” to calm myself down. I’m proud to say that I have significantly improved as a man since then.


I can’t say for sure, but this child may have passed me multiple times on the slopes and will probably mock me to all of his pre-kindergarten friends. Bastard.


If the urge ever comes over you to spend time in a room that smells like tens of thousands sweaty feet mixed with bad odor spray, by all means go rent snowboarding equipment.


My steed. She held up well, never gave up on me, and I even got her to look somewhat respectable by the end of the day. Booya.


Lunch. Sadly, nobody met Nooch. We did get to eat with Yosh’s instructor, Lars, who happily told us all the things he will be or we should be drinking. He recommended the ManMosa (mixing Budweiser and orange juice), and almost took too much pleasure in saying “ManMosa.”


After lunch. I somehow managed to master getting off the lift, which was important for me, mostly so I could secretly judge and be annoyed by people who couldn’t.


Wutup homes.

Tomorrow – parte dos.

Wha? Monday Bullets?

December 17, 2007


Pre-SuperBurrito.

You got it Chachi. You got it.

• I’m watching House right now and it’s pretty good. Hugh Laurie is fairly strong but I’m not so crazy about the supporting cast. I guess it’s pretty much the Cleveland Cavaliers of the Fox drama department.

• Last night, I went back to Don Antonio’s (yes, the Don Antonio’s) with Yackie, Sully, and KtL. Last time we went was the day UCLA embarrassed themselves in the Final Four this past March. Sully wound up likewise embarrassing himself when he got conquered by the Chicken Super Burrito ($10.75). Fast forward to yesterday, all remained similar (save for Yackie getting an enchilada this time) and Sully managed to at least stay awake through dessert, albeit in a pompous, over-the-top fashion. I have no idea if he fell asleep during the car ride home with KtL, and I don’t know if we’ll ever know. God Speed, Sully, God Speed.

Oregon lost to Nebraska. Tajuan Porter, had an unreal game, but couldn’t make a free throw. I don’t like where this season is heading if the Ducks can’t make defensive stops, hit free throws, and get controlled play from the point guard position, they’ll be sixth-ish in the Pac-10 instead of second-ish, where they should be. Blech.

• Had a downright tasty lunch with old buddy RPT (she’s not old, although I’m pretty sure older than I am), visiting from Portland. I ate with her and her friends she was visiting at Canter’s. It was pretty uneventful (I went with the standard CB Sand), other than a fire truck and ambulance sitting outside the restaurant to take somebody away. Not all that surprising – Canter’s skews anything but young.

Andrew Bynum‘s arms look to be about nine feet long. He looks to be pretty good at basketball. Woo.

• It’s college football recruiting season, which, of course, brings out the recruiting uber-nerd in me. I won’t go into any detail that will at some point incriminate me (and there are many far worse than I), but the Ducks’ class appears to be coming together quite nicely. You’re bored, I’m moving on.

American Gangster is pretty good, not great, though.

• The season two highlight reel of the CFTG I believe should be up on SI and my site in the near future. You won’t believe all the nudity, A-list celebrities, and rampant drug use that’s included. Mostly because it’s not in there.

• The season four Lost trailer looks awesome. Crazy Asian guy from Uncle Junior’s nursing home on The Sopranos? Check. The guy who played Eugene from Eugene, OR from Rescue Dawn? Check. More of the Jack beard? Check. I’m jazzed. Ok, I’ll never say “jazzed” again.

• I just downloaded the CTU phone ringing sound as a new ringtone for my iPhone. I won’t lie, I’m pretty excited.

More later this week. Yes….more!!

Thoisday Bullets

December 6, 2007


Yeah.

And thus, the bullets are back.

• I played tennis with my dad yesterday, and despite playing generally mistake free tennis and up 3-0, I hurt my back/lower neck when running and lunging for an easy approach shot (which still went for a winner). The next point, I was able to serve it (with pain) and immediately called the match in a fashion that, in retrospect, was probably a little overdramatic. I’ve been pumping myself full of meds, Yackie was even kind enough to set up a heating pad for me. Bottom line: this kind of thing happens to elite athletes performing at a premiere level. I’m listed as day to day, but I advise you to leave me on your fantasy bench for the time being, just for precautionary reasons.

• I haven’t shaved since the Michigan episode out of solidarity for the Oregon football cause. As soon as they win, I’ll shed what’s quickly becoming a respectable beard, despite the expected itchiness period. Hopefully they beat South Florida in the Sun Bowl, because if not, I may have a realistic shot at becoming the singer for System of a Down next September.

30 Rock is still the funniest show on TV right now and nobody is more surprised at that fact and that I’m admitting to it than me.

Kobe Bryant is good at basketball. He completely took over during the last couple minutes last night at Denver. I’d be lying if I said that didn’t remind me of a young Dan Rubenstein dominating the Woodland Hills Park leagues circa the early to mid-90s with his ability to go left and make things happen in traffic. Represent.

• I have no idea how I feel about the Dodgers signing Andruw Jones. He could be a disaster and hit .229 or be the bat the Dodgers desperately need. His HR numbers will probably be down again, especially playing at Dodger Stadium, but he still should be at least an improvement in the power department. I don’t care enough about baseball right now to formulate an opinion yet.

• I haven’t really been to too many movies to recommend or trash anything, although Yackie and I did get cheap and start going to a couple of free screenings. We actually only went to see Apatow movies, but both were really good, if not in pretty rough stages of post-production. Forgetting Sarah Marshall was Jason Segal getting dumped and moping (again) in Hawaii, with Kristen Bell in a bikini for most of it as the girl who dumps him and tortures him with her new boyfriend at the same resort. The Pineapple Express is a great stoner/action movie written by and starring Seth Rogen, alongside James Franco. Probably the next Half-Baked, but I’ll probably be wrong, who knows.

• My neck still hurts.

• I’ve been lame in listening to music, I generally just listen to Stern now. The music I have been at least repeating a lot (although not quite to the level of the Corndog loops) has been Spoon, Wilco, Steel Train, and the new album from The Boss.

• Immediately after I finish writing this, I’m going to finish editing the season two reel of The College Football Tour Guy (Guide). I’m not sure yet where it’ll be posted, but it’ll be somewhere so you can relive what I think is the best few minutes of the season all in one place.

• I saw Wicked with Yackie Tuesday night (pre-neck injury) and it wasn’t terrible. The highlight was probably dinner beforehand at Dan Tana’s when we got to sit at a booth next to what appeared to be a belligerent alcoholic threatening the manager and his wife for no apparent reason. Then, some sort of a work associate came in and sat at the booth on the other side of us, which prompted him to go over there and yell at some other guy about how some boss embarrassed him more than he’s ever been in his life, which must be saying something. I don’t remember specifics, but the phrase, “No, you fucking listen to ME!!” was shouted a few times. It was almost funny how awkward the room became. Oh well, the chicken parm was good.

• I’m intrigued by Oregon basketball so far. I wish they hadn’t lost, but Saint Mary’s is now #26 in the country and has some sort of freshman wizard Australian point guard named Patrick Mills. Somehow, though, Oregon beat Kansas State in Manhattan, KS and dropped a couple spots in the rankings. Hm.

Quickly, here’s how the team looks to break down: Joevan Catron is fearless, lost some weight and has a great soft touch around the rim. He just needs to stay out of foul trouble. Bryce and Maarty should provide the most consistency slashing (in Bryce’s case) and playing inside-out (in Maarty’s). Malik still has the ability to take over a game with his all-around abilities, but still manages to take himself out of games with an occasional lack of involvment. TP still seems like he’ll go on another crazy streak and probably has the fastest first step in the conference. Kam Brown looks like a solid contributor capable of both scoring and leading the offense. I, along with what appears to be every Duck fan, feel that the less Mitch Platt the better. Lekendric Longmire seems alright off the bench as an off guard. I really like saying, “Lekendric Longmire.”

• T-minus about 28-ish days until my first real cheesesteak. I can only assume the number of pictures that will document this historic event will be nothing short of creepy.

Thassit. 965 words of unadulterated brilliance. You’re welcome.

Fotografias, Parte Dos

July 30, 2007

This is part deux. Unfortunately, due to legal issues, I’m unable to post the pictures I just took at the Playboy Mansion celebrating The College Football Tour Guide. Sorry.

The Birthday Fiesta


Yackie made a cookie cake. If you’ve outgrown cookie cake, chances are I don’t associate with you. Efforts to convince Yackie to include my full name in frosting went unfulfilled.


Guns.

You’ll notice the lovely kitchen that couldn’t possibly be mine. My parents were kind enough to let me move all my crap into the casa while waiting to move to the other coast. You’ll also notice that Sully has what appears to be a male gunt (munt?).


One of the central themes to this gala was the Chickadilla. I shouldn’t have to explain what a chickadilla is (triangular chicken finger, quesadilla hybrid), but let it be known that it trumps most other Americanized Italian fast-food appetizers. Pictured: Yackie in the midst of a chickadasm.


Big Daddy Eisner chickadasm. You’ll notice the subtlety and grace with which he eats his chickadilla. Some attribute this to his dipping choice of ranch dressing. Others say he takes Ameci‘s appetizers far too seriously. We may never know.


KtL‘s first chickadilla. I can’t say for sure, but I think Sully loves her a little more after witnessing two of his favorite things in life come together in one magical moment. Sully, in particular, is one of the biggest proponents of the chickadilla in the Greater Los Angeles Area may ever see.


See. Such style, such decisiveness. If you ask me, it’s a wonder he stayed on the market as long as he did. KtL truly has a late round steal in Kevin Sully.


When I blow out birthday candles, I make as much of an effort to appear as primate-y as possible. Just my thing.


Big Daddy Eisner, on the other hand, get’s so excited that his pits explode with anticipation sweat. Miller Time appears to be in drastic need of seconds.


Woo.

The combination of too much chickadilla (some say this phenomena doesn’t exist), too much pizza, too much alcohol, too much cookie cake, and too much milk mixing with all of this wasn’t smart. I’ll save you the details of my night. We’ll leave it at saying that my religious pleas went answered, albeit barely.

The Birthday Dia


Yackie and I decided to go to Ventura for a couple hours for the ol’ 24th birthday. This is the Anacapa Brewing Co., whose greatness was discovered by Yackie and Me, and later confirmed by Sully and KtL. Rating: 5 out of 5 Steinies.


Pulled pork, duh. I get so transfixed by this sandwich that I suck out all of the light behind me. I really have no idea why it seems so cavernous behind me – it looks as if we had to know some sort of password and kill a hobo to get into this place, but I assure you, everything was on the level.


Yackie with her sandwich. She got so excited over this sandwich that she turned pale with excitement. Oh wait, never mind, standard pigmentation.


Artsy fartsy and out of focus. Just how I like it.


Hobo-killing darkness!!


When one reaches 24, he must understand that it’s probably time to start acting more adult and celebrate occasions accordingly. Or so I’m told. Here is some mini-golf and go-karting.


Yackie kept it surprisingly close, considering her lack of wingspan, upside, and athleticism. She’s got what you can’t teach (no, not heart) – sheer luck.


Her form is remarkably below-average, although she makes up for it by viciously cheating with absolutely no remorse. I should probably make a mental note of this.


I never felt weird mini-golfing that day, mostly because we were playing behind the lead singer of Nickelback‘s skinnier, terrible mini-golf playing cousin.


Unmatched focus. Sure, I may have held up some little kids looking to keep moving, but you can’t rush perfection. You just can’t.


Call me a hippy, but I stand by my separation of church and mini-golf ethos.


Look at that form. If Big Daddy Eisner were there, his pits would’ve exploded with form-envy sweat. I closed out the round late, proving once again that my upside and wingspan trumps Yackie’s ability to luck into putts and viciously cheat without remorse.


To celebrate, I sped around in a go-kart that I barely fit into. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t drive the Cole Trickle way. Rubbing=racing, just ask Big Daddy Eisner’s daddy, Big Red Eisner.


Almost the entire race was spent in second place, or as it’s more correctly coined – first place loser. Back to the drawing board I go.


Good times were had by all. I couldn’t catch the first kart, Yackie refused to kart, I bumped somebody illegally while gaining inside position, and my picture is now probably on an “Unwelcome Parties” list at Golf-n-Stuff. Oh well, there’s always next year.

Schweaty Balls

June 13, 2007

Hello, I haven’t posted since last week, and now I’m posting. You probably already knew this by the picture above that isn’t Edward James Olmos (but really, shouldn’t every blog picture be EJO?).

• I actually liked the end of The Sopranos, I downloaded the episode (and by this, I mean I pay full price for HBO each month because that’s the legal thing to do) and figured I got a bad copy, just like everyone else thought their cable or satellite went out. I agree with the school of thought that that last season was the viewer really seeing the world through Tony’s eyes and the quick jump to black was Tony getting shot or killed. No time to see, hear, or react to the gunshot, from wherever it came. David Chase always sort of controlled everything and I liked that he controlled the point of view and the tension in that last scene. A lot of people were upset because they invested so much time and wanted absolutely closure on Tony and the rest of la famiglia, but that’s sort of just wanting an ordinary ending for an extraordinary show. And yes, I’m totally a pretentious schmo about this.

• I really have tried to watch the NBA Finals – The Spurs are unquestionably great, but there are just too many other things to do in life that seem more interesting. High atop that list: blog about how boring watching the NBA finals is.

• I played kickball today with Yackie’s 5th grade class. It was teachers vs students – I’m neither – but the teachers were having a hard time in the field, as it was two guys (able to field) and eight women with the identical defensive skillset that can be most easily classified as “not able to catch, throw, or stop a squarely kicked handball.” I covered shortstop and immediately put the fifth grade class on notice. They only vaguely knew who I was, but I had range baby, I had range.

The only mistake I made was putting on sandals this morning, not expecting to be anything other than a spectator. This wasn’t too much of a problem until my tractionless Rainbow sandals (not produced in Rainbow, CA, but in San Clemente, CA) slipped on me and I fell under a towering pop-up at the last second, allowing the handball to bounce off of my head and let the kicker easily jog into second. Other than that, I could be counted on. Oh, the students won, mainly due to a highly-questionable score keeping job by two gymnast twins. It doesn’t matter, though, because I showed my kickball range was like woah today. Yeah, woah.

• It’s hotter than balls today.

• I’m going to the Playboy Yazz Festival with Yackie on Sunday. We’re still trying to narrow down the picnic possibilities. Most people just decide on something, we’ve got spreadsheets, cross-referencing databases and powerpoint presentations ready to go to figure this out. Our priorities are clearly in place.

Larry David and his quasi-militant wife are no longer together. I can’t even imagine how souped-up her new Prius is gonna be with all that Seinfeld syndication money she earned.

• Speaking of which, the Seinfeld where George watches a Nova special on heart attacks and then convinces himself that he’s having a heart attack the day after is so great. The same thing happened to be me, except I was 11 and 80 pounds.

Sully went up to the Eug last week to watch track and field and not eat Newman’s. It was the exact opposite of my two weekends in Eugene since graduating.

Big Daddy Eisner‘s status as a friend of the blog is in question. So far, his possible replacements include Sully’s brother (Big Sully), Yosh Jackman, and Tom Selleck. We shall see in the coming days.

Kris “Diddy” Danielson writes some of the best emails of anybody I know. I can always count on emails that reference both iMovie and handjobs in the same thought, and no, he’s isn’t editing amateur porn for a living.

My toe hurts, probably from this morning’s kickball embarrassment. Good day.

Hey Y’all

May 30, 2007

Hello. I was out of town this past weekend to do some work back east (more to come on this) but I’m back now, so all order will now be restored to the world.

• I just ate at City Wok (get it??) with Sully. They didn’t give us enough lettuce cups for our lettuce wraps, so I had to go ask for more lettuce – there’s a first time for everything. The standard orange-y chicken there is good but spicy. I almost died when a a piece of pepper got lodged in my throat. Sully then got a Jamba Juice while becoming increasingly worried that KtL will soon begin dating Richard Krajicek. I had a ridiculously generous $1 scoop of Rite Aid ice cream.

• The NBA Playoffs are still going on. I’m pretty sure the first round began in mid-January.

• Every American male was eliminated at the French Open in the first round. While embarrassing, it pales in comparison to the egg that Sully apparently laid at a tennis club in the ‘Mento this past weekend.

• Last week, I went and saw the Dodgers beat the Brewers. The positives include Saitomania continuing to sweep Chavez Ravine and the negatives include my inaugural garlic fries sweeping across my gastrointestinal system for 8-10 hours. I’ll announce in this very space the next time I plan to go to Dodger Stadium so that my widespread readership can collectively purchase Tums stock in record amounts.

• I found a site that detailed the Lost finale a few days before it aired and couldn’t resist reading it. It was all correct, but the finale was amazing nonetheless. There will supposedly be flash-forwards and flash-backs next year, which will be interesting/wreak havoc on my below-average comprehension skills.

Big Daddy Eisner was once again held in the “love dungeon” over the weekend. The man has both given love a chance and apparently given love-nesting a chance. Kudos.

• I don’t know how it happened, but all of the sudden I noticed that I had become wildly addicted to Run’s House. Last night I found out that this week’s episode was the season finale and became inexplicably disappointed and anxious. This is a problem.

See you at Sully’s Super Sweet 23.

Viernes Bullets

May 18, 2007

• TV shows are winding down, which means that I can devote more time to the Dodgers as they inevitably will rise to their probable lead in the NL West, then will go completely cold and possibly pull out (barely) the division in September. I’m pretty sure Jason Schmidt served me lunch today, I’m not sure what else he could’ve possibly been doing.

• I didn’t mention it last week, but I’ll lump it in with this week’s episode – Lost has gone and completely redeemed itself a la Lloyd Christmas. Sure, plot points are being added left and right, but I’m ok with that so long as something actually happens. Oh, and there’s no way Locke is going anywhere. After episodes, I usually check a Lost message board to see if there was anything I missed, and if you care, the screen grabs of what Jacob looks like are essentially Locke with hair. Anyway, after this week’s episode, I went online to look and somebody had posted that somebody else correctly wrote out a synopsis of both this week’s episode and the finale a few days before it aired (this week). I couldn’t resist and I read about the finale. I’m a weak, weak man, but it should be a gamechanger.

The Office had its finale (hr long) last night, and despite what Sully may think and tell you, it was really good. Sully wanted more closure, but I’m not sure he fully gets that shows generally need to finish seasons open-ended. His reaction as the episode ended didn’t really ruin it for me, as I am able to separate the negative from what’s going on on-screen. Ryan in charge of Michael Scott next year will be excellent, and so long as they play everything right with Jim-Pam (Jam? Pim? Pamjim?), the show should remain the best network comedy.

• I’m still working on leftover peanuts from Monday’s game.

• There could possibly be an NBA Eastern Conference playoff game on right now. I’m not the one to ask.

ESPN Mobile is back in some sort of new incarnation. Yawn.

• What’s the score of the Red Wings game? Heard this on the radio today, pretty funny.

• I’ve got a bunch of pictures from beautiful, scenic West Lafayette that I’ll get up soon. Included are shots of my first/last time eating at a Cracker Barrel. It was good to see the little brother graduate, but he has officially lost food recommendation privileges. The Cracker Barrel reference is a hint.

• I like Lupe Fiasco, partly because I like saying “Lupe Fiasco.”

• Good lunch today with Yosh Jackman. If you’re not using soft Js in your everyday conversations, I’m afraid that you’re so very 2002.

• Big Daddy Eisner fired off some guns yesterday. I’m trying to make a dirty pun out of this, but he really did go to a shooting range after his finals. I’m not sure if this bodes well or not for his grades or for Los Angeles County.

• I saw my new neighbor today. I didn’t talk to him but I already hold a grudge, mostly because nobody will ever replace the possibly ex-KGB guy whose name sounds sort of like “arachnophobia,” so that’s what we called him. I’ll miss him and his crazy, militant Tevas.

I’m gonna go listen to Koufax and have a handful of peanuts. I mean this literally, sorry.