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Thank you for your continued support of Deadspin. Go fuse yourselves.
You are all living a lie. None of these stupid videos are real. David Roth’s plaid shirts? Not real. Barry Petchesky’s gag reflex while eating 50 eggs? Not real. Dan McQuade and Dom Cosentino talking about football under studio lights every week? I start to question how real that is as soon as I finish the sentence.
Welcome back to Sports Horror stories, a video series where we remember that The Texas Chainsaw Massacre is, in a way, constantly happening all around us.
Welcome back to Sports Horror Stories, a video series where we remember that sports can mess bodies up as much as the Final Destination film franchise.
Welcome to Sports Horror Stories, a video series in which we will recount, in gruesome detail, some of the most terrifying moments in sports.
A great judgment call from a true professional.
Charros, the Mexican gentlemen horsemen from whom mariachis take their suits, are arguably the original cowboy. The word chaps, for example, is said to come from the Spanish word chaparreras, mesteños from the Spanish for mustangs, and lasso is basically lazo with stodgier spelling.
Does human ingenuity know no bounds?
Every year, a toxic lagoon in Flushing Meadows Park in Corona, Queens fills up with long boats crammed with 20 paddlers from all over the United States and the world. They are there to see who can paddle their dragon the fastest across the finish line. The event may appear curious to first-time onlookers, but for…
Man, winning the World Cup in a country that gives a damn looks fun.
All hail the mighty Elvis, a 52-year-old crocodile in the Australian Reptile Park of Somersby, Australia, and my new God.
This golf ball’s trajectory will make your emotions soar, only to very quickly leave them afloat in mid-air, wondering where and how to land.
In the grand metaphor of life, where the ocean is the world and we are the surfer getting battered against some rocks, it’s comforting to know that there are people like Australian Ross Clarke-Jones.
About a mile south from U.S. Bank Stadium, in a midtown Minneapolis building-turned-market called Mercado Central, the only visible reminder that a big sports game is happening in the city this weekend is a sign of protest. On a message board dressed with community announcements and plumber suggestions, a pink sheet…
“Oooh. Ooaaaagh. Aaaaoowwgh Ho Ho.”
MONTERREY, Mexico — When I left Monterrey in 2004, I didn’t know that I wouldn’t be back for 13 years. I knew we were moving to San Antonio, Texas. I knew that the Harry Potter movie that had just come out, the one directed by a Mexican, was the best one yet. But I could not have known the turn of events that would…