I asked for your questions, comments, and feedback and like the Paperboy, Josh Wilson, you all delivered.
This is the second installment of what is now a three-part series of answers. Initially, I figured I could squeeze all this into two columns, but frankly it’s just too long.
(Awkward last sentence.)
So without further ado, let’s get on with the Q and A. The Answer Column: Part II. For your enjoyment.
i am a mariner whore. i hate them so much, but yet, still, and always will love them. what do you feel the mariners’ moves should be this off-season? who would you like to see as the manager? what players would you want to see wearing a m’s jersey come next april? i hate the m’s, but love them so much. –Mr. Awesome
Well, I guess we already know the answer to one of these questions. So let me address the whole managerial issue by asking a question of my own: Does anyone really care that Eric Wedge got hired to run this team?
For God’s sake, just look at the man. Dude has aged by like 20 or 30 years since the last time we saw him in a big league dugout. What the hell happened? He used to be clean-shaven with dark hair. Now he looks like Mr. Belvedere. I have to admit, this physical transformation concerns me. Wedge no longer looks like a baseball man. He needs to be grading papers or something. I’m worried.
Personally, I wanted to see Bobby Valentine get the job. Not because Valentine’s a great manager or anything. Just because he’s entertaining. Entertainment is key. That’s all.
As for the Mariners’ personnel, I don’t really care what they do anymore. It’s not that I don’t love them. It’s just that we’ve had our emotions jerked around so many times in the past decade by “big signings” or “big trades” that it’s become impossible to get too high or too low about any move made.
I liken it to having a friend that just stops showing up to things. We all have friends who spaz out on us like that. You have a party, you invite your friend, he or she doesn’t show up. At first, you’re pissed. After a few more no-shows you stop caring. Eventually, you become apathetic towards the whole situation. On the off-chance that your friend does show up to one of your events, you’re so surprised to see them that you don’t even care that they missed all the previous events. That’s how I feel about the Mariners. They’ve been so downright crappy and flaky the past few years, that I’m completely apathetic towards them, win or lose. But fact is, when they finally do start winning again, I probably won’t care about all the losing that’s taken place up ’til now. They’ll make me proud simply by showing up.
For the record, I only answered one of your questions. I’m sorry about that. Better luck next time.
How could Bailey not know who Alex is? He is among the most legendary Dawg Packers ever. DUH.
*sighs* Softball players… to this day every time I meet someone with the name “Ashley” I am compelled to go “Ashley!! Ashley Charters!! Ashley, Ashley, Ashley, Ashley Charters!!!” –Melodie
I appreciate your kind words, but let’s be honest, most people don’t know who I am. I don’t even have a name anymore, really. People just call me “Seattle Sportsnet.” I mean, that’s pretty cool. But Seattle Sportsnet is simply the glorification of all the crazy-weird thoughts that happen to pass through my brain at a moment’s notice, whereas I, personally, am more than that.
For instance, I enjoy double-folding my t-shirts so that I can maximize space in my drawers. I also like to arrange my closet by clothing type, with pants in one sector, sweaters in another, sweatshirts in another, jackets in another, jerseys in another, suits in another, and miscellaneous items in the corner.
I also really like crossword puzzles. I have books of crossword puzzles which I complete, then recycle. Because I also advocate recycling. Though not to a tree-hugging degree.
Finally, I prefer to wear basketball shorts when I sleep these days. I used to just go straight boxers or boxer-briefs, but here’s the thing. I do a lot of my writing before I go to bed. And at a certain point I got this weird feeling about publishing items that were written while I was half-naked. I didn’t want that vibe being transmitted through the keyboard, so I started wearing basketball shorts each night. Anyways, that’s where we currently stand on that situation.
Look, I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking, “Yeah, you might be more than Seattle Sportsnet, but everything else about you is boring as hell.” I said there’s more to me. I didn’t say any of it was interesting. It is what it is.
Give us a list of the questions you would ask the next potential Mariner’s coach. –BobbyonBoard
Let’s just assume for a minute that Eric Wedge hadn’t been hired already. Here are the questions that I, personally, would be asking our next potential manager:
1. How open are you to the idea of a bobblehead being crafted in your likeness?
2. Pick a color: red, yellow, or green.
3. Will you let Ichiro design a t-shirt for you?
4. If Chone Figgins steps out of line do you: a) yell at him in the dugout b) bench him c) punch him in the face or d) tell him he looks like Donkey from Shrek?
5. Are you willing to be thrown under the bus?
6. How well do you deal with failure?
7. Describe how you would handle a situation in which a boss blamed you for something that wasn’t your fault.
There you have it. I’d be a great interviewer.
Is there a Mrs. Seattle Sportsnet? –Anonymous
I’m taking applications.
What’s your stance on sexting? –TheRealThabo
You know what, when cell phones were first invented, I’m pretty sure no one had any idea that it would lead to this. Imagine if Zack Morris could have sent and received naked pictures on that brick of his back in the day. It would have blown everyone’s mind. Now, however, we just kinda shrug it off.
Personally, nothing surprises me anymore. If you can take a picture, you can capture images of your naked body. And thanks to cell phones, you can then send those pictures of your naked body to whomever you want. It is what it is.
I do find it funny that so many people freak out over sexting. Let me ask you something. If you grabbed your cell, opened a text, and saw the unclothed physique of someone who you thought was attractive staring back at you, would you be disappointed? Hell no. If someone texted me weird sh*t I might freak out. I don’t wanna see weird sh*t. But boobies? Sure. Bring it. I’m good with that.
Long story short, sexting is here to stay. No matter how often the TV news makes it out to be the greatest sin of all time, people are gonna keep sending naked images of themselves to others. I’d rather we worry about war and poverty than whose genitalia is being transmitted through the airwaves.
How long do I need to date a girl before I can hold her hand? –Ja”Antonio D’Johnson
(Side note: My friends have discovered the comment thread at this point in time and are now submitting ridiculous questions under ridiculous nicknames of their own creation. Just so we’re all clear on that.)
That’s a great question, Ja”Antonio. I would say the standard waiting period is two dates. By date three, it should be pretty clear that this mission is go for launch. Do whatever you feel like at that point. If that means you grab her butt mid-hug, then go ahead and grab her butt mid-hug.
I will say that if you get to date three and aren’t doing at least some touching (arm around the shoulder, hugging, fingertip grazing), you’re screwed. And God only knows why you people are still torturing yourselves with this awkward interaction.
Really, when you get right down to it, you should be going to town on one another by the third date. Hand-holding is more or less a bunt single. Only you’re not even to first base yet. You’re still running down the line. So it only kinda counts in the grand scheme of things.
Here’s my breakdown of the baseball analogies, just in case you were wondering:
On-deck circle: Talking, close to dating.
Batter’s box: First date.
First base: Kissing, hand-holding, good-natured touching.
Second base: No-limit, full-body groping.
Third base: Fellatio.
Home run: Well, that’s obvious.
Stolen base: Advancing an extra base in the context of one date. For instance, if you’ve only been at second base up to this point in your relationship and you manage to score a run before the night is done, you’ve stolen home, my friend.
try partnering with http://www.huskyhalfbrains.com/board
small websites gotta stick together to fight the man! or atleast to pass random information along that other people wont/dont cover… it will also give your website some new material and a few more posters too –Houhusky
Like Jay-Sean, I’m down. For anything.
Well, not anything. But most anything related to my website.
On a scale of 1 to 100, 1 being a recepticle for grasshopper dung and 100 equaling a deity. Where would you rate Hugh Millen’s snake oil cocktail conclusions on evaluating player value and performance? And why? By all means, please use Matt Hasslebeck as an example. –CWOO
Sorry, CWOO. I had to cut the rest of your comment/question off. It was ridiculously long, but clearly well-informed. I applaud you on the research you’ve done.
That said, let me explain where I stand with Hugh Millen (and I get that you don’t like him, which is evidenced by the rest of your comment which I had to cut off).
Hugh Millen, to me, is a genius. Why is Hugh a genius? Well, frankly, because I don’t understand a word he’s saying. And when I don’t understand something, I either assume that the person speaking is a lot dumber or a lot smarter than me. And I can tell that Hugh isn’t dumb, so he must be smarter than me and ergo a genius.
Occasionally when Hugh speaks, I’ll recognize a word or a phrase here and there. Like “cover two,” for example. Or “the.” But more often than not, I have no idea what Hugh is talking about.
Hugh is one of those people who is so damn intelligent that he can’t even properly convey what it is that’s going on in that brain of his because us laypeople simply cannot understand it. I imagine it’s how Einstein must have felt when trying to relay his Theory of Relativity to a classroom full of half-tards. At some point, you just have to tell your audience, “Hey, just take my word for it. I’m a f***ing genius.”
I just reread your question and came to the realization that I need to give you a rating of Hugh on a 1-to-100 scale. Hugh is a 101. Scales can’t handle Hugh.
Stay tuned for the final installment of the Answer Column coming up later this week.