Please Read This

Tom Ley is a man of words from the Denver area. For all intents and purposes, the two of us are brethren's forever bonded by the veiled anonymous nature of the internet. Regardless, the man can write; linked below is his latest article for the Goodmenproject.com - please read it and try not to get completely and most utterly emotional as a result.

Tiny Bits Of Joy by Tom Ley

This Week's WInner of The Dave Parker Award For Excellence in Excellence: These Guys

As you may recall, during this blog's heyday, there was a running featured that identified professional athletes who liked to smoke, based on the photo of Cobra Dave Parker smoking on the Pittsburgh Pirates bench. The photo stands-out as one of my favourite examples of candid sports photography.

Thanks to the good people over at Sports Illustrated for putting together this slide show of athletes who fancied a smoke. Beyond that, there is absolutely no rhyme or reason to this post, but to say hello.

SI's Sports Figures and Smoking

Oh, Internet.

Somebody spent a lot of time on this.

A BLOG POST

Just joking.

Here's somebody who like the internet more than me. Enjoy.

What The Holidays Remind Me Of

Despite the fact I grew up in a devout Roman Catholic household, once I left for university at the age of 19, I stopped practising my faith for various reasons. I became lazy and complacent towards my faith, and even more so, I became skeptical that something which could not manifest itself physically could have such on influence not only on my life, but the lives of my family and the creative foundation of the world.

My parents, being the passive and understanding pair they are, allowed me the liberty of an attempt at both a literal and contextual analysis of the church and scripture, which combined with the aforementioned malaise found me turning my back on my faith.

Save for a funeral or wedding, the only time I step foot in a church these days is to appease my mother and attend a Christmas Eve mass. When I'm sitting there next to my parents and brother and sister, an unmistakable sensation of guilt sweeps over me. Why, I have no idea? I reckon it's because I feel such an overwhelming urge to please my parents and make them proud. Regardless, Christmas Eve mass always evokes a sense of virtue and focus on my part, in so far as a renewed focus on what's important in life; family.

Time changes all, and rifts are created between friends and family members over various reasons, sometimes legitimate, other times completely trivial and wasteful where a person's pride masks the sobering effects of proper judgment. Come holiday time, I am reminded of the fact that at the end of the day, our families are all we really have. Blood binds people together like a metaphysical adhesive greater than that of any legal commitment or contract.

Despite the fact very little people will likely ever read this post - both because I've not posted much the last few months and likely decimated what little fan base I have and also because the first paragraph mentions the ever-tantalizing existence of church and faith - the fact remains, often we do the bare minimum when it concerns family. The holidays and the practise of worshipping a false idol (Santa, not Jesus) should not be the sole reason to come together as a family. Call your aunt, email your uncle, for God's sake, tell your mother you love her, because while time changes all, it also passes at great speed with very little notice.

Happy Holidays to everybody and thanks for reading.

Long-Form Sports Journalism: Alex Belth

As newspapers continue to drop long-form, researched pieces for short, attention grabbing bullet points, the internet is becoming a safe haven for sports journalist looking to rekindle a previous romance with full-length pieces.

I encourage everybody to read the following article by New York sportswriter Alex Belth, about a fellow sportswriter whose style and penchant for alcohol and drug-induced interactions with the athletes of the 70's and 80's evokes memories of a time I never experienced, but have read so much about.

Deadspin; Alex Belth, December, 6th, 2011.

Thank you for reading, and again, my apologies to the dozens of loyal fans of this site for it's general shittiness.

Gary Speed RIP

Sunday morning, police discovered that Welsh football manager Gary Speed had hanged himself. The 42-year old ex-Premier League and Welsh footballer leaves behind a wife and two teenage boys.

Though not the best of obituaries, the Telegraph's coverage features a nicely edited video of Speed's career accomplishments. I encourage you to have a look at the link if you'd fancy.

The internet doesn't need another obit, rather I've decided to post this link and share my sentiments because I always admired the man. Upon reading about Speed's suicide, I was absolutely gutted. He was a fearless leader and a brilliant example for younger players. His 535 matches played was a league record before being broken by ex-England keeper David James. He was the type of player who never showed dissent and always seemed to exceed the physical limitations his ever-aging body presented as obstacles.

Certain that possible reasons as depression or the like will be revealed in the coming days, it's safe to say his suicide has caught everybody who knew the man by surprise.

RIP Gary Speed.