The wheels are missing and you can’t calm down
You can’t let go and you can’t carry it on
You gotta bad back and you can’t stand still
If the thunder don’t get you then the airline will.

When I was a kid, these were two of my favorite baseball cards. I was thrilled when I got Bud Black to complete the picture.

Knoblauch used to flash that same smile throwing to first, knowing he was making some lucky fan’s day with a free souvenir.

I never played organized football, but I played a lot of basketball, and the true tragedy of the Brian Kelly coaching model is that it is gleefully copied by so many high school, elementary school, and youth coaches all over the world. Fuck every single one of those assholes.

I’m pretty sure the question of whether one is an asshole depends on whether you return your shopping cart to where it goes, or just let it roll around the parking lot.

If I were a scout, this is how I’d feel:

“Look, I don’t mind you coming here and wasting all my time. Because when you’re standing oh so near...I kind of lose my mind, yeah. It’s not the cross that you bear, nor is it the wounded ducks you throw in the air.

I dunno, your personal brand has been fading. If me being here…

As long as Calvin + Hobbes, the Far Side, and Bloom County constitute the top 3 in some order, you are sane people.

Yes but a few years from now — as his young child screams at the top of his lungs and throws his oven-baked chicken tenders on the linoleum floor, while his wife scrolls absentmindedly through her instagram in between sips of her second glass of white zinfindel and mutters under her breath “I can’t believe I had a…

I generally enjoy the NYT, but jesus fuck, it’s 2016, they can dispense with the insertion of periods in abbreviations any fucking day now. Almost as annoying an affectation as Will Leitch numbering his paragraphs.

Whatever comes of this, whether it’s absolutely nothing or a federal perjury conviction, rock bottom for Jeter has to be the upcoming phone call from an eager A-Rod offering advice.