Tim Baffoe attended the University of Iowa before earning his degree from Governors State University and began blogging at The Score after winning the 2011 Pepsi Max Score Search. He enjoys writing things about stuff, but not so much stuff about things. When not writing for 670TheScore.com, Tim corrupts America’s youth as a high school English teacher and provides a great service to his South Side community delivering pizzas (please tip him and his colleagues well). You can follow Tim’s inappropriate brain droppings on Twitter (@TimBaffoe), but please don’t follow him in real life. He grew up in Chicago’s Beverly neighborhood and currently lives in Mt. Greenwood.
Inanimate objects aren’t supposed to have existential crises, but here I am. What the hell is the point of me? Seriously.
Meatball karma has a funny way of striking a balance, doesn’t it?
And while one of the greatest defensive players of an organization mythologized for its defenses is likely feeling the deep sting of what Marcellus Wallace called “pride @#$%ing with you,” he will grow to realize what many of us already knew. This is right call.
Over a year later, it’s the same story. And unfortunately, again, the anger is directed at the wrong people.
First, the show will be awful, even by reality TV standards.
Jimmy Butler has been a huge part of this Chicago basketball season even existing in the second round of the playoffs, which, while not exactly a medal of honor, is still better than many expected with all the obstacles that had to be dealt with—no superstar, injuries and illnesses, Scalabrine withdrawal, etc.
Celebrate them as they work for us, making us feel good. Buy stock in the slogans. Don attire supporting them. Forget about them once they can’t fight for us anymore. Am I talking about soldiers or football players?
In much the same way rule changes have been implemented in youth sports to make them safer in hopes the grown-up games evolve—changing a culture of violence in hockey, for example—the prejudicial culture in sports needs to change from early on.
Look at Mark Buehrle at the 1:35 mark. Look at R.A. Dickey at 1:50. The color leaving the faces of J.A. Happ’s Toronto Blue Jays teammates as blood exited his head.
What we got here with the Bulls is failure to communicate.
If it’s even true it’s not less impressive because—and I can only speak from what others have told me—food poisoning is one of the worst non-life-threatening non-Nicholas Cage movie things one can experience.
Fans, I come to bury Tim Tebow, not to praise him. He has been cut by the New York Jets, and that opens the door for him to finally become a Chicago Bear.
KYLE LONG? What the…? KYLE LONG? But there were so many better guys availa… KYLE LONG?
Reno Saccoccia is not a condition that involves flesh-eating bacteria breeding inside one’s kidneys. Nor is it a casino featuring the comedic stylings of Carlos Mencia. It’s neither of those awful things.
The White Sox supposedly have a progressive statistical GM with a manager willing to embrace a numbers-driven era. An organization with those in charge on the same page. The manager is willing, right?
It was a really, really, really, really, really, really bad week to say the least. Chicagoans should count themselves lucky that it was mostly just our commutes and basements that were ruined.
As we now immerse ourselves back into sports after the most recent act of ignorant spinelessness to try to disrupt the joy that defines the competitions we watch, I sincerely hope that our greatest fears of what can happen at a celebration (because, really, that’s what any race or game or match is—even at Wrigley Field these days) do not cause us to temper ourselves in future celebrations.
One of my favorite things to ever happen in sports is occurring this weekend.
At no point would Griner be the best player on the board. She is not one of the top 60 as-yet-to-be NBA players in the world.
Enough of this two leagues with different rules nonsense.