I love Marshawn Lynch. He is the curator of some of our greatest memories as sports fans and without a doubt one of the greatest athletes this city has ever seen. At this point in his decorated career, Lynch needs no colorful introduction. He is simply one of the most accomplished figures in Seattle sports history.
By contrast, I hate this incessant Marshawn Lynch versus “the media” saga that will not die. Of late, this story has spiraled to the point of fans crafting a petition to keep the NFL and the media from “bullying” Lynch by interviewing him after games. This is so incredibly stupid.
Continue reading An Open Vent: The Marshawn Lynch Saga That Will Not Die
With all due respect to the San Francisco 49ers, there may be no team easier to hate than the Carolina Panthers.
Don’t believe me? I can give you three reasons why the Seahawks’ upcoming playoff opponent is worth a hefty dose of your spiteful venom. And it all starts with the quarterback…
1. Cam Newton’s fake perma-smile
Cam Newton is to football what Alex Rodriguez is to baseball. Like A-Rod, Newton is a talented superstar. Like A-Rod, Newton has ventured into his share of controversy in the past. Like A-Rod, Newton feigns obliviousness to the public’s perception of him. And like A-Rod, Newton seems to be among the most genuinely disingenuous personas in all of sports.
Continue reading Three Reasons You Should Start Despising the Carolina Panthers TODAY
Some of baseball’s Hall of Fame voters are idiots. We know this because every single year they do stupid shit like lose their ballots, over- or under-peruse player statistics, mock the system by handing their vote over to a third party, and just generally make decisions from a moral high ground so lofty and full of bullshit that the average person can’t simply fathom the pompous arrogance that goes into an act as simple as voting.
This isn’t a difficult process, either. Members of the Baseball Writers Association of America are given a single sheet of paper upon which is printed the names of eligible ex-players. Beside each name is a check-box. Voters are then asked to check up to 10 boxes corresponding with the names of the players they’d choose to induct to the Hall of Fame. This is easier than correcting your neighbor’s elementary school math homework. And yet there are those who can’t complete the process without suffering an aneurysm because, well, who the hell really knows.
Continue reading You Better Induct Edgar Martinez Into the Hall of Fame
Happy new year, everyone! While sitting in the bathroom scrolling through the same old boring articles on staid pages run by conglomerations, you probably wondered once or twice how this lovely site would make its 2015 debut. Well, wonder no more.
I’ll admit I considered going a different route. I had pondered a long, lovely, flowing piece on the year behind us and the year ahead. Something beautiful, perhaps, that possibly evoked a tear or two. And in time, that article may come. But then I went back to the gutter and resorted to what it is some say this website does best (or worst, depending on your perspective).
And so, with all the brimming positivity undoubtedly polluting your life these days, we bring you three things that are really bugging the crap out of us, in this, the second installment of our recurring series An Open Vent. Because no matter what other people say, there’s nothing wrong with getting those panties in a bunch sometimes.
1. Funding fanaticism.
Continue reading An Open Vent: Funding Fanaticism, Resolutionaries, and the Ineptitude of Community Centers
January 8th, 2011 …
… versus December 21st, 2014
You wanted Melky Cabrera. Melky Cabrera signed with the White Sox.
You would have settled for Alex Rios. Alex Rios signed with the Royals.
There are few, if any, starting right fielders left on Major League Baseball’s free agent market. But your Seattle Mariners still happen to be in search of a right fielder, market be damned. And you’re on the verge of freaking out. God forbid the team go to war with a designated hitter manning Safeco Field’s spacious nether reaches. Or worse yet, heaven help them if they bring back the likes of Ichiro.
You’re in full panic mode. But fear not, sports fan: it could be worse.
In the inaugural installment of An Open Vent, we bring you the unbridled rage surrounding three things that are unequivocally shittier than the Mariners’ seemingly futile pursuit of an outfielder. So sit back, relax, and prepare to get even more pissed off than you were before.
1. Mr. Playoffs.
Continue reading An Open Vent: What’s Worse Than the Mariners’ Pursuit of a Right Fielder?
In fairness to the mantra uttered by members of San Francisco’s steadily eroding fan base, the 49ers did indeed achieve a Quest for Six on Sunday afternoon.
With just over thirteen minutes remaining in the first half, the frail fragments of former running back Frank Gore plunged into the end zone for a sextet of points and a whopping eighty-six-percent of San Francisco’s scoring output on the day. Seconds later, a keen ear could almost make out the resonating sound of Gore’s Life Alert Emergency Response monitor, the result of the old man unexpectedly succumbing to the effects of gravity.
The Niners’ lone touchdown was supplemented only by Phil Dawson’s extra point, tacked on immediately after Gore’s jaunt to paydirt. And just like that, it was over.
If there is such a thing as moral victories, however, the visiting squad could chalk up their second quarter red zone success as exactly that. In two of the three previous games, the Seahawks had neglected to allow their foes anything more than a field goal. That San Francisco achieved a six-point score should be applauded. Quest for Six complete.
Continue reading Death of a Rivalry