Angry Ward Wednesday: Boring Baseball Stars, Carmelo, Things We Could Use a Break From

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futbol-soccer-copa-confederaciones-brasil-2013-mexico-vs-italia-himnos-nacionales-bandera-nazi-nazismo-hitler-capitalismo-ximinia-blog-sociedad-protestas-emblema-esvastica-humor-broma-fotomontaje-estadio-maracana-tercermundismo-mxBronx, NY – With soccer exiting stage left (congrats to the Germans for finally finding success when it comes to fighting the rest of the world) and baseball taking it’s annual summer vacation (just when the Mets were starting to play well), now’s a good time to take a few deep breaths, let out all of that negative energy, and reflect on a few other things from which we could all use a break.

Boring Baseball Players. As I watched all of two minutes of Monday Night’s annual “Let’s See How Bad I can F**k-up My Swing” competition, known as the Home Run Derby, I was once again reminded how unbelievably boring today’s baseball stars have become. All except one guy. I’ve talked about  him before, but a friend just sent a recent clip of Toronto Blue Jays infielder Munenori Kawasaki and he really deserves to mentioned every chance we get. This guy is an absolute character. I’ll let this most recent clip speak for itself. In the 1970s, baseball was crawling with entertaining oddballs with names like Fidrych and Hrabosky and McGraw. Now we mostly are faced with platitude-spewing, monotone zombies. So, here’s to you Mr. Kawasaki! May you play this game forever, cramp-free.

Stifling Weather. Yes, I am going to complain about the weather. You got a problem with that? It’s summer, so I don’t mind when it climbs into the 90s or we get the occasional thunderstorm. Like Eddie Rabbit, I love a rainy night. But these consecutive days with 100% humidity, overcast skies yet still-stifling-heat, and a chance of showers like all day long, have got to go. You can’t make any kinda plans in soup like this! How desperate have I become?

Beat the heat with an alien owl... but only if you must.

Beat the heat with an alien owl… but only if you must.

The other day I took my kid to see Earth to Echo, a not-so-steady-cam, nausea-inducing selfie mess that could be the first kids movie in I don’t-know-how-long to not crack the Top 5 it’s first week out. Worse yet, if this weather doesn’t break soon I may have to take her again, or to How to Train Your Dragon 2, for the second time. What I wouldn’t give for the old neighborhood theater of my youth, The Dale, which every summer trotted out every Disney vehicle they could get their mitts on and me and my friends saw everything from Escape to Witch Mountain to The Shaggy D.A. Jeez, someone could make a fortune doing that today.

Carmelo. Are we finally done talking about this guy? Good. Congratulations to the New York Knicks and their fans for retaining the centerpiece of their unstoppable juggernaut, after he attempted to get into bed with just about any other franchise that would buy him a free dinner. I smell championships, people. No, wait a second, what is that smell?

Carmelo_Anthony Jeremy_Lin Meet_The_MattsSelling Worthless Football Tickets. It’s that time of year again, when I receive my New York Football Giants season tickets and attempt to do the impossible: sell a total of four tickets to two exhibition games that no one wants to see. This year’s opponents are the Steelers and Patriots, so at least I have a chance of getting half price in exchange for first shot at any of my regular season games at full price. That’s the formula I’ve been reduced to using for the better part of the last decade. It’s a thankless task that, thankfully, my brother has been immensely helpful with. My friend Dennis, too. We could all use a break from this, but the NFL will never make preseason games optional purchases and will never lower the prices below what a regular season game goes for. So, the highway robbery continues.

OK, I am going to take a break from writing any more today. Come back tomorrow for Fake Sandy Alderson/Big Al Sternberg.

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Wednesday: Angry Ward, who has admirers at the NY Times, is the quintessential angry sports fan but one exception... he's flat-out funny. And the angrier he gets, the more amusing his work becomes. Psychiatrists say, "Angry Ward's 'anger' is a direct result of "Bronx/Mets syndrome: growing up in the Bronx as a Mets fan." As if that weren't enough, his Minnesota North Stars abandoned him for Dallas, forcing him to embrace The Wild the way conservatives embrace Mitt Romney. While the Vikings tease him incessantly with flirtations of success, the Golden State Warriors, "Don't have a enough short, white angry guys but I don't dislike them... that much." A-Dubya is MTM's longest-tenured indentured servant, its Larry David and quite simply, The Franchise.

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