Let's watch that beautiful clip again.
How's that taste, Philly? Is it good? Is it horse shit in the street good? Let's go to Joel Embiid for his reaction.
Oh what happened, big boy? U SAD BRO? Trust the Grieving Process, homey.
For those of you who don't follow the playoffs or
Make no mistake. They've done it. For the Denver Broncos, the 2019 season will represent one of renewed hope, fostering in the next generation of competancy, albeit in a completely new form than anything that they have ever understood. Indeed in a different form than any football fan has ever
Given that it's Kentucky Derby time, I thought I'd talk about horses. I'm not a gambler. I don't trust horses, and I've only been to the track two times. The first time was on a company outing when I worked for a daily newspaper. There was an old crusty guy
Hey everybody, this is Kyler Murray. As some of you know, my life has been a wild ride over the past two years. I was drafted to play baseball for the Oakland Athletics, I became the starting quarterback for the Oklahoma Sooners, won a Heisman Trophy, and just became the
I've begun this draft as the Nets are still very much alive. Make no mistake, they will have been long dispatched by the time that you read this. In the event that they manage to come back and force a Game 6 in Brooklyn, I promise that I will change
Part of following the Nets all year long has meant that while I could decide to live my life, the Brooklyn Nets also exist, and continue playing games regardless of my personal schedule. Were I not bound to this column, I could act like a normal person, spend a day
I make bad decisions. Not the truly crippling ones like trying heroin or leaving my wife and child for a stranger who smiled at me on the train, but the kind of self defeating ones. I have a responsibility. For the remainder of the Nets season, what could now be
Maybe it's the narratives that ruin sports. The arguments we don't simply make, but maintain well past the point where we should continue voicing our dumb opinions.
Earlier yesterday, I'd listened as my coworker who hadn't watched the Nets/76ers game told me that Jimmy Butler had a bad game. This was
And then the fog rolls in, the sound and noise drift into the recesses of your memory. All the strife, all the anguish. It's history. You cross they Grey Rainbow Bridge and find yourself in purgatory, which you greet with the middle aged cousin to jubilation: Contentment. Because you really
Do I reflect here or wait until it really is all over?
I could end it right now, but that would be a cop out. As I told my friends about the column, the constant question was "You're really going to watch and write about 82 Nets games?"
"Plus the playoffs," I
In the end, all the anxiety and melodrama were in vain. For what seems like forever, I've spent the end of this season, cursing the way things would ultimately shake out, but that's over. Neurosis is obsolete. Pity is undeserved. The Brooklyn Nets are in the playoffs. The long fear
Have you ever considered what it takes to be a talking head? Think about Skip Bayless, and his entire livelihood. For the past 16 years, the man has woken up, compelled to craft the exact same sports arguments. It's not so much a retelling and understanding about the previous night's