Archive for the ‘NFL Draft’ category

The Story of Why I Struggle to Walk Right Now

April 28, 2008

Here’s a story. Hopefully there’s some sort of important lesson to be learned somewhere in here.

On Saturday, Yackie and I decided to drive down to Rendondo Beach to visit Sully and KtL. We’d hang out, eat El Burrito Jr., and watch the NFL Draft. A simple enough day. We got their around 1ish, watched a little of the draft, decided to get El BJ, brought the food back to his place, and watched more NFL Draft. As you can probably imagine, Yackie and KtL were not all that enthused about watching names flash across the screen for any extended period of time. We then went out and walked to the beach, got some frozen yogurt (I went with a Coke Float, I have no idea why), came back and, you guessed it, watched more draft coverage. With all the talk of draft picks, 40 times, verticals, lifting reps, and “thrust,” Sully, Sully’s roomate Josh, and I started talking again about how we should see how fast we could run the 40.

This is where the pain begins.

Sully lent me his Arizona basketball shorts (cursed), Josh put on some sort of über-tight nike shirt, and we all went to West Torrance High School to run the 40. Yackie and KtL both had stopwatches, we blasted Kanye, and generally got pumped for a pretty bad idea (as Yackie stated it was many times).

The school was open and we were lucky enough to have the yard markers painted on to the edge of the track, which circled the football field. I immediately took my shirt off (you’re welcome ladies of the South Bay) to cut down on any possible resistance, and began stretching and jogging around. Sully remained unsure if he would run the 40, as he anticipated injury and/or embarrassment. Josh and I were getting in our respective zones (he played HS football, I HS tennis), positioned everyone, and finally, started sprinting. My goal was to be sub-six seconds.

We ran individual, hand-timed heats on the grass, and both consistently ran in the 5.5-6.1 range, although I don’t think I got in the 6s on the grass. Despite Yackie’s complaining, it was relatively fun, and put my curiosity to sleep.

At this point, Sully decided (after numerous full laps around the track) that he wanted in, but only in a head to head fashion – on the track. He ran two heats. His first heat, he beat Josh by a length and finished around 6.06ish. Not bad, especially considering Sully was hedging his potential time by talking up his distance running and claiming to have no short burst.

In the final race of the evening, I raced Sully on the track for unspoken future bragging rights. It was counted off by Josh, timed by Yackie, and we were off. For some reason, Sully, for the first time that day, started grunting and moaning during the sprint, throwing me off a little. I don’t make excuses, Sully beat me by a length fair and square. Immediately after finishing, I felt a tightness in my hamstrings, and started walking a little more gingerly. I didn’t think much of it, and just chalked it up to soreness from not having sprinted in quite some time.

We got some more food, drove home, and lo and behold, the soreness increased. Fast forward a bit, and by the time I woke up yesterday, I could barely move. My hamstrings were the size of softballs, my hips (which don’t lie) hurt everytime I did anything more than flinch, and I became certain that I had not only just shin splints, but hip, quad, knee, shin, and foot splints.

Rad.

Today, I tried walking with Yackie at a regular pace in my neighborhood before she laughed and asked if it was ok to walk ahead at a normal speed. This isn’t good.

As I sit here now typing this, I just tried to cross my legs on the ledge underneath my desk, and it was an unnecessarily lengthy struggle.

Officially, I’m day to day, but I may be sent down for a simulated game and then a rehab assignment.

The lesson here: never fool yourself into thinking it’s a good idea to try to run the 40 yard dash, especially multiple times. I don’t get how it is I’m slower than every single offensive lineman ever, but I now accept it as fact.

Also, Yackie is almost always wrong about things, but occasionally she can be correct.

Ugh.

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Sabado

April 28, 2007

NFL Draft today, Oregon Spring Game today, NBA playoffs today, Baseball all day, Italian sub for lunch, probably Mexican for dinner. Life could be worse.


(from Deadspin)

This will be on the NFL Network later in the day during draft coverage. He may possibly be overexposed and predictable, but still good, much like danrubenstein.com if you ask me.

Bullet Train

April 25, 2007

• Well then, maybe the Lakers don’t have a shot. Of course if they win tomorrow, I’ll probably start all over again in my ridiculous claims that the Lakers have a shot. I’m clearly insane and delusional.

• The Dodgers are now tied (after losing two in a row) for the best record in baseball. Jason Schmidt looks (so far anyway) to be a terrible signing and Randy Wolf seems to be a brilliant one. Big Daddy Eisner, with his cryptic ties to the West Hills Baseball underground, probably could’ve told you this all along.

• Speaking of which, if you happen to see BDE, please give him my salutations. I’ve written songs, haikus, and some free form poetry that I hope to premiere on Def Poetry Jam on the topic of how Sully and I can possibly free BDE from what appears to be a love dungeon. This post will of course make no sense to anybody, so I’ll end the ridiculous inside-joke theater here. Just let it be known, that BDE is giving love a chance, and we’ll leave it at that. Hi Nicole!!

• And because of broadcast fairness rules, let it be known that Sully will be invading Ventura County for a brief overnight of romance and pulled pork, not necessarily in that order.

The Sopranos was great again. It’s kind of nerve-wracking just looking at the schedule and seeing only five episodes left. So far this year has been really good, but it needs to get great soon. There has only been a sprinkling of what makes the show good: bloodbaths, whores, therapy, unintentionally hilarious mafia captains, and state-run mental facilities. Uncle Junior writing a letter to Dick Cheney begging for release because he, out of everyone, should know the dangers of a gun accidentally misfiring. One of the funniest moments on TV of the year.

Entourage lasted about 9 minutes before the credits. I don’t know if it’s a good or a bad thing that this show always seems like it’s ending too soon, but even on the average, slower episodes, it seems like the credits come out of nowhere. On one hand, it’s good because it gets you instantly into the story and never lags on all that much, but on the other hand, doesn’t this mean that the pacing is terrible? There’s really no natural arc, nothing gets resolved, and the show usually ends (like this past week with the threat of seeing Carla and her Guginos) right at the high point. I’m so confused by this, but whatever, the show’s still great, and Artie Lange’s on next week, so it’ll probably get even better.

• The Oregon Football Spring Game is Saturday. I went to one of these with Tony, Corndog, and this insane girl that Tony was in love with a few years ago. One would think watching a football team you love in a scrimmage at Autzen would be fun and a good way to pass the time in the dead area between basketball and football seasons, but really, it’s confusing, boring, and you can’t at all follow the procedures. I’ll be fine reading the wrap-ups while I decompose watching the NFL Draft.

• Speaking of which, I’ll be decomposing while watching the draft on Saturday. It always starts out exciting, and then I just devolve into me yelling for old men in front of phones to just make the call. The 49ers have eight picks in the first four rounds, so for my little brother’s sake (even though he’s a Husky) I’ll tune in out of curiousity. Maybe ESPN can get Stephen A. to join the broadcast, at least for the cheesy doodles (below).

Hot Fuzz is a recommended movie. I saw it with my parents and Jackie. My mom and Jackie hated it. My dad and I loved it. It’s a lot of guns, a lot of action movie jokes and references, a lot of crazy Brits, and a swan. Also, there are (at my count) two UK Office cast members involved, Martin Freeman (the guy that played Tim, who’s the original Jim), and Stephen Merchant (co-creator and super-tall awkward guy).

• The Shia LeBouf episode of SNL had a really good digital short. Go waste time.

• If you know, please tell Sully where celebrities grocery shop. He needs to know and will go to great lengths to see anybody remotely known in a produce section.

• New Lost tonight. Prediction: something unexpected will happen that doesn’t really move the plot forward, but it’ll be interesting enough for me to keep watching. I’m really such a sucker.

Sheryl Crow cleared the air but her wanting to limit me to one square of toilet paper in the bathroom. Even still, Sheryl Crow clearly has never eaten at Tommy’s.

And with a good ol’ fashioned two-fer reference, I’m out.

Bada Bing

April 16, 2007

• Wow, The Sopranos. Having a show like that back and completely hit its stride (like it did last night) reminds you how shows were meant to be done. I don’t know how anybody (myself included) watches anything and invests in anything that’s so clearly inferior.

(Alright, the part where I act like snobby TV dick is over)

There are so many great little things about the show, though, that make it so good. First of all, Paulie answering his phone in the middle of the Cleaver screening and telling whoever he was talking to to “just put it in the trunk” was great. Silvio being completely out of his element and not knowing how to say anything is also great.

“He’s a mean fuck, I’ll give him that…” So good.

At this point, the show looks like it’s being set up to go out on a note of inevitable empathy on the part of the younger generation of the families. Something big will happen, whether it be Tony or Christopher getting killed (probably by one or the other) and it’ll lead to everything just sort of breaking down.

One dark horse theory is that Carmela will kill Tony. I like it, it works with the mood of the show that Tony can handle everything but his family, but I don’t know, it may be a stretch.

Of course, all is forgiven with the whole taking 19 years off between seasons.

Let’s move on…

Sully is more emo than you think. I should probably end the inside joke posts, but Sully’s a sucker for casual mentions on a blog that’s read by literally billions of people.

• So is Jackie.

• So is Big Daddy Eisner, who, by all accounts, continues to melt hearts and then leave discretely in the morning across the greater Los Angeles area. Well played, BDE, well played.

• The Lakers are getting in on the whole tanking epidemic that’s apparently running rampant in the NBA. Unfortunately, they clinched a playoff spot last night and will most likely play the Suns starting next week in the first round of playoffs. I’m almost positive they can’t beat them in a series, but after reading :07 Seconds or Less, and the way the Suns whine about the Lakers constantly, it’d be nice for somebody on Phx to come out of the series a little more bruised than they were coming in.

*Cough* Raja Bell *Cough*

• I tried to go to the Dodger game Saturday night against the Padres to formally kick off a season of more cleverly captioned photographs of mainly Big Daddy Eisner eating hot dogs and giving a thumbs up while seated near Hasidic rapper look-a-likes. If the Dodgers aren’t selling their games as packed with hot dogs and Hasid rapper look-a-likes, they should probably get on the ball with that.

• I got a haircut today. They shampooed and conditioned my hair. I may be going soft in my old age, but I’m not sure I’ll be able to get a haircut without a vaguely foreign woman running her nails through my sopping wet hair again. Just saying.

Too much information? I can never tell.

Chamberlain Oguchi is no longer a Duck. He’ll be transferring somewhere where he’ll get more of an opportunity to either hit eight straight threes or go for 3-13 on any given night. I don’t know what to say. Corndog and I had a great time drunkenly yelling “The Gooooooooch” every time he came in, so that was a highlight. Also, having the nickname “Champ” is worth something, right?

He couldn’t handle the ball well, he was a decent defender, wasn’t much of a slasher, but was a good energy guy off the bench and was the subject of the same hilarious quick bio every time he came into the game of “He can really heat up at any time, like he did last year in the Pac-10 Tournament,” as he was pouring in atrocious shooting games all year (but yes, he did have a bad ankle probably most the way). All in all, I’ll miss ya Gooch, best o’ luck.

• Don’t watch NFL Draft coverage before the draft. Seriously, it’s a waste of time. Nobody really knows anything, so just go to whatever draft site you prefer, learn who should be taken in the first couple rounds, and just enjoy the draft when it airs. I’m not sure why I’ve decided to take this space to give out draft coverage advice, but you’ve gotta trust me, I literally ate a steak sandwich today.

• The new beard is filling in nicely. I’ll take another picture soon for what I assume are all of your specific chronological photographic files on me.

• Sometimes you just wanna ride a go-kart, and now my friends, is one of those times.

Urban Eats in Burbank is really good, if not a little overpriced. They put pesto mayo on their sandwiches and it may not be up to the “bathing level,” (when a sauce is good enough to bathe in) as Big Daddy Eisner would put it (for him it’s Mission Burrito enchilada sauce, and Tommy’s chili), but it’s still skyrocketing up the sandwich spread rankings that I just made up for this very bullet point.

(Not sure if Big Daddy Eisner will mind the divulging of that dark secret of his, but whatever)

This has gone far enough. Good night Tacoma.

Hey, I have a computer again.

February 27, 2007

• Can’t say it’s fun to have your power supply fry up and not have a computer for two days. Luckily it all seems better now. I was almost sure I was going to drop my computer in the middle of the mall on my way to the Apple Store. Now that it’s sitting safely on my desk receiving this blog post, I can say with about 92% certainty that I won’t drop it.

• This past weekend was Ventura with Yackie (this is how it sounds when I say her name now, I’m going with the soft Js and there’s little you can do to stop me), where I rode a funny looking four-wheeled low bike, drank some beer, watched Oregon beat those damn dirty dogs on giant flat screen in a sports bar (Yackie complained zero times, not counting the complaints re: the price of mixed drinks), saw some whales after getting kind of queasy, ate some In N Out, and drove back. All in all, it was eventful, and there’ll be captioned pictures shortly.

• I’m writing a short thing for Deadspin about Oregon basketball for their NCAA Tournament Preview (as you may have seen young Charlie Vidal mention in the comments). That should be up Sunday, maybe Monday, who knows. For reading and commenting on this site, though, Charlie Vidal is both a gentleman and a scholar.

Tommy Lasorda was named by a madam to be a client in her hooker ring. I’m skeptical, disgusted, and curious all at the same time. Hopefully he didn’t mention pasta sauce, and hopefully she didn’t mention Dave Kingman.

• I’m not as excited about the Fox Action Block (FAB) as I was last season. I am excited about the half hour of everything that’s wrong with Los Angeles (ETWWLA), which follows the FAB on MTV. The Hills is so very very good, and I’m not sure who I would get more excited to see than Spencer. He could be the worst person in the history of the world, and the season’s not even over.

• I could run a sub-5.5 40 yard dash. I’m telling you I could. I’ll video this soon.

Corndog got a PS3. The real tragedy is that I won’t be able to give him three months to play NCAA before I arrive and beat him consistently at it, at which point he’ll decide that he’s sick of the game. In all fairness, he did beat me in Boise, but I blame the altitude.

• I like bulletpoints.

Buenas Noches.