Nah it's when he went flying down a stadium staircase in a wheelchair, which technically was an Anaheim thing

Everyone’s an armchair assassin.

Search and Rescue helicopter pilot guy here. In case any of you are wondering if this will happen to you after falling off a cliff face or something and needing an airlift, it won’t if they do their jobs right. In the organization I fly with you have to use a line attached to the litter that’s held by a member of the…

Finally, a video that belongs on Deadspin.

I’ll have you know, kind sir, that the 2016 Virginia team actually went 2-10, and Jones threw five interceptions that year.

I have great difficulty understanding how pathetic one must be to go to a football stadium to watch the NFL Draft. This is the equivalent of people in the ‘90s camping out in front of their local Tower Records to be the first to buy the new album by, like, Everclear.

I wonder if his diary will be as interesting to read.....

How out of control do you have to be to use racial slurs in business emails? I have sent and received hundreds upon hundreds of business emails and have never seen a slur or even a curse word. 

“The league owes it to the manly sport they seek to elevate… and to the patrons of the sport, to remove the last vestige of ruffianism from the professional baseball field.”

Skinny.

More importantly, apparently the Lions just drafted an actual giant.

Sometimes it’s important to be looking for the puns you really didn’t want to make.

As Espinal recounts what seems to be the incident that led to the son’s broken arm, she also paints a picture of a fractured relationship

Followed closely by Willie “Hit ‘em Where They Ain’t” Keeler

He can’t strut around the mound after a strikeout, stare the batter back into the dugout, slam dunk the baseball, etc. without it distracting him from the job.

“Death to Flying Things” is now, and will be forever the best nickname.

None of Diana’s posts are “TL” and if you “DR” for the love of fuck, don’t comment.

Sorry for introducing you to fine art.

A creepy thing Ashley did on my phone last week was to steal it at a bar while I was sending an email, and text my easily confused boyfriend the following picture (in response to a text about his 9 year-old nephew):