When I was a teenager, golf for the people meant taking somebody’s dad’s rusty clubs to a hill in the neighborhood and hitting drives at the houses.

No but Joe Blanton still pitches! He’s a relief pitcher for uh, the Nationals, I think? I dunno I saw him pitch against the Phillies a couple weeks ago.

Dammit! I was going to make my usual joke about using an 80/20 proprietary mix but then you went and explained it.

The trump administration doesn’t have the best track record, but picking Peter Gammons as the new social media czar was a good move.

HEY NOW! WRITING ONLY IN CAPS WILL NEVER GO OUT OF STYLE!!!!

Jesus fucking christ! How hard is it? All you have to do is not do that one thing! Why is it so tempting? DON’T DO THAT ONE THING!

One of these days I want a hit batter to just calmly take his base, let the situation cool down, and then blindside rush the pitcher from the first base.

Jason vs. mosquito.

The dude was a poet. Listening to him talk about boxing, you’d think he was a classics professor. I heard his last commentary, and the interview on Weekend Edition the Saturday after that, and it was really sad. I’ve been listening to that guy for decades, never again. Some people will miss Prince or David Bowie,…

People may mock the idea of simulating this series on NHL ‘94 but they’ll be eating their words when the game ends 43-37 with Sidney Crosby scoring on 38 wraparounds.

I had the privilege of working at The National, the ill-fated sports daily helmed by Frank Deford, from 1989 to 1991. I was right out of college, an editorial assistant, tasked with doing research (imagine a library with all the teams media guides and Sporting News annuals) and taking phone calls from writers whose…

I met him at a hotel bar in NY years ago. Nobody in the place knew who he was other than me. “My dad swore by your football writing.” Simple thanks and an invite to sit and chat. Spent about an hour talking about hockey spreading throughout the South. My wife showed up. I left. I knew I had just taken up time from…

Spoiler alert:

The Cardinals lost their 20th game.

That’s just because stronger nasal bones aren’t glory boy muscles like bis and tris. What’s a little cancer for the opportunity to never worry about the tough, cement-like air from breaking your nose again?

Even when American runners didn’t end up on the podium in international meets, I always took pride in the nasal bone strength they displayed during competition. Now, I realize that was all a lie. I don’t know what to believe in anymore.

One last time? Oh man, if my death was scheduled, I’d be cranking it to the point where I tore skin. And then guess what, they have to bring you to the infirmary and your execution gets delayed. And then as soon as they reschedule it and I get back into my cell, imma do it again. I won’t stop panic jerkin until…

Always, always eat the sides first. Start with the shit that you have to eat (fucking limp-ass broccoli) to get it out of the way, and then REVEL in the main at the end.

How about shortening the lineup to 6 players? How about creating a cadre of robots that throws 5,000 pitches per second to allow for simulation of the entire season? How about summarily executing all players from the 25 man rosters of any team involved in a game that exceeds 45 minutes? We must examine all available…