Love.
It defines our relationships, underscores our passion, and provides us meaningful inspiration as we stumble down our life’s path. Without love, we are nothing. With it, we have reason to wake up each morning. We work for love. We suffer for love. We hurt for love.
Love is what makes us whole. It turns us into the best possible versions of ourselves, as Steve Carell — yes, that Steve Carell — was once quoted as saying in the movie Dan In Real Life. Regardless of your opinion on this understated tribute to American cinema, love does exactly as Carell’s title character describes. It shapes us in a way that nothing else can. It brings out our greatest qualities, then showcases them to the world. As a result, our audience sees us for who we truly are, beneath any facades we may have in place to shield our hearts from overexposure. That vulnerability, that faith we have in love to protect us when we bear our souls to the universe, is what takes us from ordinary to extraordinary. It is then that we are at our very best.
We all love different things, in different ways. We love people and places, material items and moments in time. We love physically and emotionally. We show our love through all types of mediums — with words, glances, hugs, actions, and sacrifices, to name a few. But regardless of who or what or how we love, the why is simple. We love because we believe that when we love, we are better people for it, to the point of being at our best. And at the same time, we love because we enjoy being loved in return.
With all that said, I love to write.
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Editor’s note: Today we welcome a talented guest columnist in Marcus Schmidli, a Seattle sports fan who shares his thoughts on the recent retirement of Rachel Alexandra, winner of the 2009 Preakness Stakes. Now, I know what you’re thinking. Horse racing. Not my cup of tea. But never have I met someone more passionate about the sport than Marcus. And while I am not a big horse racing fan, myself, Marcus’s unbridled love for the Sport of Kings compelled me. I asked him to write something, anything, for this site. His style is impeccable. Please check it out.
“As you know, despite top training and a patient campaign, Rachel Alexandra did not return to her 2009 form. I believe it’s time to retire our champion and reward her with a less stressful life. We are delighted that she will retire healthy and happy to our beautiful farm in Kentucky.” – Majority owner, Jess Jackson.
With those words, the powerful engine of the “Girl Power” era of horse racing came to an abrupt and thundering halt.
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To view this public event on Facebook, please click here.
The Athletic Supporters are arguably the greatest recreational sports franchise in the history of the world, if not the entire universe. If you haven’t yet learned of their greatness, please go to the following audio clip and scroll to the 2-minute mark, followed shortly thereafter by the 11-minute mark: http://bit.ly/c8ibF6
Don’t act like you’re not impressed. The Athletic Supporters’ fame — nay, infamy — has reached the airwaves of mass media. Are they America’s team? Some would say yes, they are. If nothing else, they’re the Greater Seattle Metro Area and Surrounding Suburbs’ team. Indubitably.
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In case you were wondering, the Seattle Mariners will not be firing general manager Jack Zduriencik.
Here is an unconfirmed short list of some other folks who, like Zduriencik, will also not be fired from their jobs:
In other news, the sun will likely rise tomorrow. Probably in the east.
In honor of the 2010 Seattle Mariners, we’re bringing you this list of the 40 Most Overrated Things In The History of the World. Why 40, you ask? Because round numbers are overrated.
Keep in mind that by determining the following things to be “overrated,” we aren’t saying that they’re bad in any way. Each of these 40 letdowns is simply unable to live up to the lofty status imposed upon it by society. Thems the breaks.
So without further ado, please sit back, relax, and, like your 2010 Mariners, Believe Big!
40. Farmers markets
Do you really want to hang out with people who don’t shower and pay more for their sh*t than those of us who shop at the grocery store?
39. Facebook chat
This thing was supposed to replace AOL Instant Messenger (AIM, to the initiated) and Gmail Chat (Gchat). Instead, it’s like the Matterhorn at Disneyland: great when it’s fully functional, but rarely in proper working order.
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From the vaunted Pearce Fantasy League. The team on the left is owned by the league delinquent.
Of course, the most interesting thing here is that if you look down the list at the Detroit Hit Men’s injury designations, you’ll notice that those red letters spell “POOP,” which is exactly what this team is.
Reason No. 1: It’s about the people
First off I just wanna say thank you for helping me to become a fan of Seattle sports again. I’m just a sophomore in high school, I live on orcas island it’s one of the sanjuan islands. Anyways I grew up watching and cheering and crying for the mariners. I remember when Griffey was traded and everyone was so sad. I still have an original Griffey poster in my room. It’s been there for 12 years. Anyways I love to play and follow sports, but somewhere along the way after the seahawks had that great superbowl year but after they lost I kept saying their gonna win next year. They still haven’t and I still have a newspaper hanging on my wall that has Darrell jackson with his head down and above it says xl letdown. I kept it there and I said when they win I’m gonna take that down and put up the newspaper that says Seahawks super bowl champs. So anyways I quit being a fan of anything Seattle I forgot that hometown teams are the most important. That they represent you and that you root for your team through the good and the bad times. I didn’t understand that until I read your blog. I’m a huge sports fan and I love to play most sports. I used to memorize players stats in 4th grade, I love sports with all my heart thank you for teaching me one of the most important things hometown pride.
-herbie
A few days ago, I wrote this article on your 2010 Seattle Mariners for Yahoo Sports’ Big League Stew. It’s basically a breakup letter written to our hometown nine, per an assignment from the BLS editors. It’s written in slightly-more-professional fashion than something you’d see on these pages, but still incorporates the exact same voice you’re used to hearing in these words.
Every now and then I try to incorporate some legitimate work into my repertoire of sophomoric prose. It’s not often that I do this, and in fact I turn down a lot more assignments than I actually accept. But as long as the editors of any external publication are more or less willing to give me free reign over the content of the article, I’m usually pretty game.
To be honest, I’m not entirely fond of selling out my product to other websites. I want to keep my articles here, for my readers. That, and I’m incredibly passionate about the written word. If I put something together, I don’t want to see it dissected for someone else’s benefit. There’s a method behind the madness in the writing. Every letter is where it is for a reason. That can be next-to-impossible for many people to understand, and I get that. I’m just not as willing to acquiesce as some people.
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I’ve had a Seattle Sportsnet Facebook profile for nearly two years now. Today, Facebook deleted that profile and told me to shove it.
Ah, well, these things happen. I’m in the process of acquiring the rights to my Seattle Sportsnet fan page through my personal Facebook account, which can be accessed using the badge to the right. For those of you who don’t know right from left, right is this way ——————-> I try to be helpful where I can.
I’ve basically made the executive decision to open up my personal Facebook profile to all of you readers. There were nearly 4,000 of you who were chatting it up with me under the Seattle Sportsnet profile, and I enjoyed every minute of the conversations we had. Seriously. The first thoughts that entered my mind when Facebook told me to take a hike were, “Well, we had a good run,” and “Damn, I’m gonna miss all those connections I’ve made with people.” It sucks, but it happens.
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I don’t know Jake Locker.
I don’t know Locker’s state of mind after a 4-for-20 passing performance against a dominant Nebraska football team on Saturday afternoon.
I don’t know how Locker is reacting as fans and media members debate his future following one miserable outing.
And I certainly don’t know how Locker feels about certain words like “hype” and “Heisman.”
But I do know two things.
One, Jake Locker is a better quarterback than he appeared to be just a few short days ago.
And two, it was wrong of the University of Washington to concern Locker with the unenviable curse of the Heisman propaganda machine when wins — yes, wins, those elusive outcomes that have been hard to come by for the Huskies as of late — were at stake.
Face it. A Heisman trophy winner typically plays for a team that records at least nine wins in a 12-game season. The Washington Huskies are a ballclub that logged all of five victories a year ago. A four-game improvement would be an absolute task, one that would require a Herculean effort from not just the quarterback, but all of his teammates as well. Is it really fair to expect that from a program that, entering 2010, had won just nine games over the entire course of Locker’s three-year playing career? That’s asking a lot from a leader who has given everything to the purple and gold since arriving on campus in 2006.
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Like most people, I enjoy sleeping in on Sunday mornings.
On a good Sunday, I’ll be able to maintain a connection with my bed until at least 10:00 a.m. I’ll drift and dream, snooze and snore, and ultimately snap into consciousness feeling like a million bucks. The good night’s sleep will usually send me out running before I hit the shower, allowing me to accomplish my exercise for the day before I’ve even had breakfast.
On a bad Sunday, I’ll wake up at 7:00 and just stare at the ceiling, contemplating when I should give in to the world of awake and drag my ass out of bed. On mornings like these, I’ll stumble over to the couch and plant myself in front of the TV set, where I’ll scroll through the usual garbage of weekend programming as I decide on whether I should a) go back to bed, b) shower, or c) run, so as not to personify the epic fail.
This latest edition of Sunday morning was destined for greatness. I was in the midst of a fantastic dream, which either had me saving the world in renegade fashion (i.e. fly-running — which is where you start running before you inexplicably take off and start flying — and beating up bad guys with a Louisville Slugger) or about to get laid. I can’t remember the exact context of the dream I was having, but these are the only two types of dreams that I consider to be quote-unquote fantastic.
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See for yourself.
At left is Jennings’ ESPN player profile photo. If you aren’t convinced that his forehead is bigger than yours, then you might be a Martian.
The time is upon us. The moment is now. Join the movement.
Keith Price for Heisman.
Because it just feels right.
17 in ’10.
All the motivation you need in one visual aid.
Nebraska is going Jay-Sean. Down, down, down.
He is the most underrated play-by-play man in the Lower Queen Anne neighborhood.
His name is Dick Fain.
He used to be Softy’s sidekick on 950 KJR, until they gave him the axe, even though I wrote to program director Rich Moore and told him they needed to keep Dick around.
He is an assistant boys’ basketball coach at Mount Rainier High School in Des Moines.
He can make his voice climb three or four octaves when talking about Sue Bird.
Sometimes, he screams.
He is well-coiffed. He probably uses L.A. Looks on that scalp.
The second Google entry when you search for the term “dick fain” reveals a post from this website.
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