Girls Don't Know Sports

In Memoriam: Maybe the Mayans were Right.

2013-04-17T22:19:00.000-07:00

For months I've been missing you. I've been thinking, how do I return? What do I say? Where do I start? When my whole world crashed down on me on January 27th, I never thought I'd be the same -- and now I know that I won't be. But life must go on. When Poppy, my grandfather, left this Earth, it went dark for me and everyone he had ever come in contact with. It took me weeks to even accept the reality of what had happened. Most of the time, I still cannot believe he's no longer with us. But I will now work every second for the rest of my life trying to light this world back up with the brightness he once brought us.

It's apparent that since he left us, however, it is not only my world that has gone dark. Unfortunately, he did see the news of the awful massacre at Sandy Hook Elementary School. Since that awful day, no amount of good news has shielded us from the tragedies filling the daily news. The events of this past week have overwhelmed me to a point where the way I could express this multitude of emotions was to return here, to you, my loyal followers.

When he left me, I lost my will to write. I lost my drive. I lost a lot of my motivation. But it was all temporary. No one would hate seeing my life come to a halt more than he would have. We had a bond unlike one I have ever had before or seen between any other people. No one was ever prouder, more excited, or more supportive of me than he was. Now that I have rebuilt myself, I owe it to Poppy, and to myself, to regain my life and move forward with more fire than ever before.

This week marks the anniversaries of some of the most horrific events in US history. As a nation, though, we won't even have a chance to look back and remember because current day tragedies seem to be flooding us faster than headlines can be published. This past Monday, the sports world's eyes were on Boston. It was Patriots' Day, Marathon Monday, and the Fenway Park home opener. Going to UMass Amherst, I have the fondest memories of Patriots' Day; Massachusetts' most beloved holiday. No class, no work, and usually beautiful weather all combined to bring everyone out from their winter hibernation to celebrate life and one another. This year, Patriots' Day forever changed.

Having lived so close to Boston for four years, having a multitude of friends and incredibly important people in my life up there, the evil attack at the Boston Marathon shook me deeply. After frantically checking to be sure that all of my loved ones were safe, it took me hours to shake the anxiety and awful feeling in the pit of my stomach. I couldn't help being uncontrollably worried and on the verge of tears as I was captivated by the round the clock coverage of the attack. I felt sick nonstop for two days. I even found myself happy when the Red Sox won the day after the bombing, and rooting for the Bruins when they returned to TD Garden just 3 days later.

The bombings at the Boston Marathon captivated and, once again, united this great country. Before a suspect was even identified or taken into custody (at least to the public's knowledge,) tonight we hear that a fertilizer plant in West, Texas, near Waco, has turned into a massive inferno. Because the fire started only a few hours ago, details remain hazy and I am hesitant to include facts or figures that have yet to be confirmed by the authorities. Some time into the fire's intense blaze, the plant exploded. To go into detail from what I have read so far does not do justice to the unbelievable devastation that is currently wrecking the lives of hundreds in the area. While I was trying to find more information about the fire, I came across one of the wildest videos I have ever watched. A father and his daughter at a seemingly safe distance from the fire watching what was taking place. As their camera rolls, the fertilizer plant explodes. Watch the powerful, emotional, and hard to believe video here.

The Boston Marathon bombings brought us together to mourn those lost, question the motives, fear slightly, and most of all reminded us to hug those we love a little bit tighter. You never know which day may be your last. However, as this dreadful week has progressed, as we learned that one of the three innocent victims of the Boston bombings was 8-year-old Martin Richard who only wanted to see his father finish the race, as the Westboro Baptist Hate Group (I refuse to call them a church and I'm not sorry about that,) threatened yet again to picket funerals of the innocent, as a fertilizer plant exploded and took with it [unconfirmed, reportedly] hundreds of lives... my sense of unity with my country turned into a more solemn wondering. I can barely fathom that Patriots' Day will forever be a day in which we mourn the three killed and hundreds injured when some psychopath decided to use pressure cookers to bomb the Boston Marathon. I don't understand how a place of work, a fertilizer plant, can be engulfed in flames and completely combust while hard working Americans are trapped inside.

I said it jokingly several times today, but maybe it was more half jokingly: The Mayan calendar predicted the world would end in December of 2012. Since that time, 20 first graders and 6 educators were brutally murdered at Sandy Hook Elementary, North Korea has announced their nuclear capabilities, a terror attack at the Boston Marathon took the lives of three, critically injured hundreds, and completely rocked the nation, letters contaminated with the poison, ricin, were sent and thankfully intercepted before reaching a U.S. Senator and President Obama, and just days later a fertilizer plant fire in Texas caused an explosion that has killed and injured an unknown amount of people at the time this article was written. Maybe the world didn't come to a screeching halt when the Mayans predicted, but excuse me for thinking, this may be the end of the world. The world as I knew it ended on January 27, 2013 and since then it just seems to have gotten darker.

Here's to hoping for brighter days ahead, for laughter, happiness, health, good days outnumbering the bad, and the eternal prayer for peace.

This post was written in memory of the greatest man who ever graced this planet. I have tried to write a tribute, and I will try, undoubtedly, many more times, perhaps never getting it 'right' enough to publish for the world. For now the wound is too raw. But know, I love you forever and ever. Rest in peace and happiness and watch over us until we meet again.

Out of Our Misery

2012-12-20T14:49:00.003-08:00

How do you root for a team that not only loses continuously, but loses in such an embarrassing manner? How do you call yourself a fan when in your heart you just want the team put out of their misery? How do you love a team when you are looking forward to a time when the personnel, players and coaches alike, are fired and a new team is rebuilt in their place? These questions along with endless 'whys' are running continuously through fans of the New York Jets far and wide.

Last night may have been the worst football game I've ever watched. I feel like I have said that far too many times in regard to the Jets, this season especially. But in what was being publicized throughout the day leading up to the game as "The Toilet Bowl," the 6-7 Jets and 4-9 Titans did not disappoint and may have even performed worse than expected. Both teams together combined for a total 234 passing yards. Of course, Chris Johnson absolutely went off, rushing for 122 yards and a touchdown, a 94 yard touchdown.

There really aren't many highlights to the game. Sanchez threw a lovely four interceptions and with a semi legit chance to come back on the last drive of the 4th quarter, fumbled the ball to end the game. It was a pathetic showing on pretty much all accounts. The Jets' defense played solidly, but really how much can they do they Sanchez turned the ball over on five of their 14 total drives.

Tebow made an appearance - at the worst possible time. The Jets managed to get into field goal range and Nick Folk put the Jets on the board with 3. Chris Johnson's ridiculous 94 yard touchdown immediately followed and then, enter Tebow. Sure, kill any possible momentum the team had by putting in Tebow for a pathetic five play drive just to punt the ball away. Great decision Rex/Tony!

A good Joe McKnight punt return late in the third quarter allowed for just a few downs to get the Jets into the red zone. Before he had a chance to throw another interception, Sanchez connected with Jeff Cumberland in the end zone for a touchdown. Yes, touchdown. I think I just like writing that word, touchdown. Us Jets fans don't get to say it that often, unless, of course, it's in a dreaded tone as the opposition breaks into open field and scores one. I hate you Tom Brady. (I find that it makes me feel better to say that at least once a day.)

When the game finally ended, I was relieved. Sure a miracle playoff run would have been sweet as hell, but God hates the Jets - with or without Tim Tebow, (apparently more so with.) Instead, I don't have to watch the next two weeks stressing about pulling out a win versus San Diego and Buffalo while at the same time hoping desperately that Pittsburgh and Cincinnati would lose as well. I can't take that kind of stress. It was a long shot to begin with, so why prolong the suffering? Just put us out of our misery now. As the game came to its pathetic close so did the Jets season. It wasn't upsetting or frustrating, we were far past that point. Hell, we've been laughing about it since Thanksgiving. But the official end, gave us a ton of new joke material.

And those were just my favorites. The mockery went on and on. At the conclusion of the game, ESPN went to their Monday Night Football anchors for commentary. Trent Dilfer and Steve Young were laughing so hard I was surprised they didn't fall out of their chairs and wet their pants before the network cut to commercial. ESPN's First Take, easily my favorite show on television, might as well have called it Tebow day again. They ripped into the Jets so badly it sounded like a stand up comedy act. Seriously, they probably should have played the "say at least one nice thing" game. It was all sorts of brutal and rightfully so. The game was atrocious, the season was pathetic, the team and coaching staff have fallen apart.

It has been announced already that Greg McElroy will start next week at home against the Chargers. Of course he will: Sanchez and Tebow will be out next year so they might as well see if McElroy will be a viable option at QB for next season. Might as well test the kid out against Philip Rivers and the almost-but-not-really decent Chargers. I think he deserves it and if nothing else at least Sanchez won't be killed on his home turf by an angry mob of fans led by this guy.

So what possibly could this off season hold? The media is full of speculation right now. You have to assume that Tebow will be cut and Sanchez somehow traded (I saw trade him for a new water boy if you need to, just get him OUT!) I'm hoping that my fellow UMass alum, Tannenbaum, as well as Tony Sparano are on their way out as well. Demote Rex within the defensive staff otherwise get rid of his not-so-fat-anymore ass too. This team needs a serious extreme makeover. Call in Ty Pennington and his team to some demolition. I'm talking about all out. A few rebuilding years with a fresh team I can endure, a few more years falling further and further into the depths of some of the worst teams in history, I cannot.

Being that my family is going on vacation tomorrow through New Years (HALLELUJAH!!!!!!!) I will be away from you, my beloved following until the last game of the season. I encourage you to watch the Jets maybe in the background of your day. More importantly, enjoy the holidays, spend time with your families, and spread some cheer. Also, I hope the world doesn't end tonight otherwise my demise will come in the form of a lazy night on the couch just me and my puppy. Exciting, isn't it?

In Loving Honor and Memory of the Sandy Hook Elementary School Victims

2012-12-16T12:51:00.001-08:00

On Friday morning I found myself delving into a big week for New York sports. It was a beautiful, brisk day in New York and I was ready to discuss Braylon Edwards' return to the Jets, Kevin Youkilis's signing with the Yankees, and the masterful way the Knicks beat both the Nets and the Heat within days of each other. And then tragedy struck. As I sat at my desk, I watched as Newtown, Connecticut went from a relatively unknown town to a household name. I turned on the news, and like much of the nation, found myself glued to the details as they very slowly emerged from the Sandy Hook Elementary School. I prayed that the earliest reports of very few injuries would hold true. Unfortunately, as more information became available, the truth was worse than anything we could have ever imagined. An armed gunman entered a kindergarten through fourth grade school and opened fire on our nation's most innocent and vibrant children and those who made it their life's work to educate, love, and mentor them. Today, as I finally have my thoughts together and enough information is available to paint a relatively clear picture of the day's events, I feel it is my duty as a journalist, a former preschool teacher, and an American, to honor the twenty-seven people who were stolen from this Earth and their families far before their time.

There have obviously been far too many mass murders and school shootings in recent history. I can tell you that if asked the names or to pick out the pictures of the murderers from many of the attacks, I could tell you rather quickly. But could I name any of the victims? Could I recognize a picture of any of the thirteen people lost in the Columbine High School shooting on April 20, 1999? Do I know the names of any of the thirty-two victims of the Virgina Tech shooting, the deadliest school shooting in US history? Do I remember any of the personal stories of the twelve people murdered in a movie theater in Aurora, Colorado just this past summer? The sad answer is probably not. As we learned more details about the tragedy in the Sandy Hook Elementary school, I decided that I would make the conscious decision not to remember the terrorist who entered the building and stole so many young, precious lives. I won't mention his name. I don't care to know any details about him. Instead, I will dedicate that area of my memory to his twenty seven victims.

Mary Sherlach

Dawn Hochsprung

The first names the media was able to confirm were those of school principal, Dawn Hochsprung, and school psychologist, Mary Sherlach. The two were said to have been in a meeting in the front office, heard the commotion, and ran directly into the line of fire. Principal Hochpsrung's photo, courtesy of the Newtown Patch has been displayed prominently on many television stations while incredible descriptions of her character are read. Sherlach was a highly proclaimed educator in Newtown and its surrounding areas. She was said to be extremely gifted and talented in her work and planned to retire at the school year's end.

Victoria Soto, 27, became another recognizable victim as stories of her heroism in her final moments came to light. The first grade teacher who was killed along with five of her students shielded many of them with her own body and saving their lives.

Victoria Soto

"The family was informed that she was trying to shield, get her children into a closet and protect them from harm, and by doing that put herself between the gunman and the children, and that's when she was tragically shot and killed," Jim Wiltsie, Soto's cousin, told ABC News.

The young, vibrant woman was living out her life's dreaming of educating young students whom she loved so dearly she often referred to them as "her kids" rather than her students. Interviews with parents of Soto's students airing on many national media outlets paint the portrait of just how connected this young woman was with her students. She is their hero, and she is mine.

Lauren Rousseau

Anne Marie Murphy

With six school educators, the aforementioned along with Rachel Davino, 29, Anne Marie Murphy, 52, Lauren Rousseau, 30, along with the murderer's own mother, Nancy Lanza, 52, among the dead, the most heartbreaking losses of this tragedy are those of the 20 six and seven year olds. Babies whose parents must now cope with the loss. Small children so young and naive that their own classmates described the sounds they heard as "pots and pans falling" and "pop pop pop" sounds. Kids with every birthday, holiday, graduation, every major life milestone ahead of them. I don't know how you begin to memorialize these children. There are no words to make it better or ease the pain of those who loved them desperately. We must simply remember their names and faces, honor their memory, live with them in our hearts, and lift up the fallen among us.

Emilie Parker, 6

Of the child victims, I learned of Emilie Parker's story first. I had come across a Facebook page created by family friends of the Parker family late Friday night before the official names and ages of the victims had been announced on Saturday afternoon. Friends of little Emilie's parents, Robbie and Alissa Parker, wanted to help get

The Parker Family

the word out, allow the public to offer prayer and well wishes, and share any new information as it became available. The beautiful blond was only six years old when she became one of the victims of the shooting in Sandy Hook Elementary. Emilie's father, Rob, bravely spoke out in memory of his daughter who, he said, "loved to try new things, except food." Rob Parker's statement about his beloved daughter is now on repeat on television networks worldwide, his daughter's picture plastered far and wide. Emilie was caring and wise beyond her years, she was a role model for her younger sisters. The Parkers are now faced with the challenge of explaining the loss to their younger daughters, ages 3 and 4, as they cope with the loss of their angel. The last conversation Rob had with little Emilie was in Portuguese, as he was teaching his daughter the language. "I'm so blessed to be her dad," said a choked up Rob Parker as he addressed the media.

Charlotte Bacon, 6

The families of the nineteen other six and seven year olds lost in Friday's tragedy are slowly starting to release photos and details of their precious children's lives as the days and hours pass. We have learned about Charlotte Bacon, 6, a little girl whose uncle, John Hagen, said she "could light up the room for anyone." According to Hagan, Charlotte's mother had bought her daughter a new pink dress and boots for Christmas. After much debate, JoAnn Bacon gave in and allowed her daughter to wear the outfit she was so excited over on Friday. Who could have known that that would be the last outfit little Charlotte would ever wear? Charlotte's older brother, Guy, also attended Sandy Hook Elementary School and survived the attack unharmed.

Daniel Barden, 7

Daniel Barden, 7, was the son of a longtime musician and the youngest of Mark and Jacqueline Barden's three children. "Everyone who has ever met Daniel remembers and loves him. Words really cannot express what a special boy Daniel was," the family said in a statement, "He embodied everything that is wholesome and innocent in the world." Daniel's big brother, James, said that on the last morning of Daniel's life he remember his little brother chasing him down the driveway in 22 degree weather to give him a kiss goodbye. In an interview with Katie Couric, the Bardens recalled how Daniel would go out of his way to make others feel better, often asking teacher if he could sit with student who were otherwise alone in class.

Olivia Engel, 6

Olivia Engel, 6, was practicing to play an angel in the live nativity at the St. Rose of Lima Church on Friday night. John Engel, Olivia's uncle and father Brian's brother, is acting as the family spokesman and shared that "she was a great big sister and was always very patient" with 3-year-old brother, Braydon. Olivia's "Uncle John" remembers how his niece loved to dance, sing, and perform for anyone who would watch. "She was a creative, outgoing, effervescent, lovely little girl," Engel recalled.

Ana Marquez-Greene, 6

Ana Marquez-Greene, 6, the daughter of saxophonist, Jimmy Greene, and Nelba Marquez. Ana was the inspiration for many of her father's songs and he even named one after her, "Ana Grace." Greene is quoted in a statement saying, "As much as she's needed here and missed by her mother, brother and me, Ana beat us all to paradise. I love you, sweetie girl." Ana's 9 year old brother also attends Sandy Hook elementary and survived the shooting. Ana's family said they will remember her "selfless acts of kindness: every drawing or craft project she began was envisioned not for her own enjoyment, but as a gift for another. She often left sweet notes that read, ‘I love you Mom and Dad,’ under our bedroom pillow - not on special occasions, but, rather, on ordinary days."

Dylan Hockley, 6

Dylan Hockley, 6, and his family had moved from Hampshire, England two year ago. His older brother, Jake, 8, also attends Sandy Hook Elementary. The Hockley family lives on Yogananda Street, nearly directly across from the home of the shooter's family. Dylan's grandmother, Theresa Moretti said her grandson "had dimples and blue eyes. He had the most mischievous little grin. To know him was to love him.” Dylan and school aide, Anne Marie Murphy, had a close bond and the Hockley family even had Murphy's picture displayed on their refrigerator. The woman his parents described as "amazing" was found to have been holding Dylan close when they both lost their lives in the shooting. "We take great comfort in knowing that Dylan was not alone when he died," said his parents, Ian and Nicole Hockley. Dylan "loved to cuddle, play tag every morning at the bus stop with our neighbors, bounce on the trampoline, play computer games, watch movies, the color purple, seeing the moon and eating his favorite foods, especially chocolate," he family said in an official statement.


Catherine Hubbard, 6

Catherine Hubbard, 6, was the niece of an ABC employee. The adorable six year old had fiery red hair and a matching freckles on her face. Her parents, Jennifer and Matthew, said in a statement, "We appreciate the overwhelming support from our community that we have received over the past 24 hours. We also wish to express our gratitude for all of the emergency responders who responded to this tragic incident as well as the teachers and staff of Sandy Hook School."

Chase Kowalski, 7

All Chase Kowalski wanted for Christmas was his two front teeth, said his next-door neighbor, Keeley Baumann. The seven year old was "full of life, a jokester with a great smile," said Baumann in an interview with NewsTimes.com, "constantly outside, playing on the yellow slide or swimming in the pool in his backyard. And he loved his four-wheeler." According to his obituary, Chase was a lover of baseball and played for a local team as well as being an active Cub Scout. Chase had just finished his first mini triathlon earlier this month.

Jesse Lewis, 6, and his father Neil Haslin

Jesse Lewis, 6, is remembered fondly by those who knew him. His neighbors can recall the smiling six year old always outside riding horses on the family's property. Jesse's father, Neil Haslin described his son in an interview with the Post as, "just a happy boy. Everybody knew Jesse. He was going to go places in life." Jesse and his brother, JT, loved animals and their family owned a ton: five horses, a mini horse, a mini donkey, three dogs, and chickens. Jesse's mother, Scarlett Lewis, described her son as "So bright and full of love. He lived life with vigor and passion...brave and true."

Grace McDonnell, 7

Grace McDonnell "had blonde hair and blue eyes - she was like a little Barbie doll," according to neighbor Dorothy Werden, "She was utterly adorable." In a statement to the Washington Post, Grace's parents, Chris and Lynn, and older brother, Jack, said, "Our daughter Grace was the love and light of our family. Words cannot adequately express our sense of loss." Mary Ann McDonnell, Grace's grandmother, said, "“She was a wonderful little girl. She was always smiling. I think everybody should know about these beautiful children whose lives were cut short.”

Jack Pinto, 6

Jack Pinto, 6, was an avid wrestler and devoted New York Giants fan. Pinto's name has been spread across the sports media today as Giants wide receiver, Victor Cruz, has chosen to honor Jack during Sunday's game [12/16.] While all Giants, Jets, and Patriots players wore decals in honor of Sandy Brook Elementary, Cruz tweeted out a picture of his game day cleats and gloves honoring Jack's memory. Jack looked up to and wanted to be just like Cruz so badly that his parents

Courtesy of @TeamVic

have decided to bury their son wearing Cruz's #80 jersey. Cruz has been in contact with the family and has said he will visit and deliver the gloves and cleats from that game to Jack's parents.

Noah Pozner, 6

Six year old, Noah Pozner, was the youngest of Friday's victims. He, his twin sister, Arielle, and 8 year old sister, Sophia, all attended Sandy Hook Elementary, sadly, Noah was not as lucky as his sisters. The Pozner family are members of Temple Adath Israel in Newtown. Rabbi Shaul Praver spent much of the past few days consoling Noah's mother. The family had visited Brooklyn the week prior to see Noah's uncle, Arthur Pozner, in celebration of Hanukkah. He said Noah was "very inquisitive" and "a very bright boy, very mature for his age." Another uncle, Alexis Haller, of Woodinville, Washington, recalled the three siblings being "inseperable." Haller said that Noah's mother saying she loved him would always be met with a response of, "Not as much as I love you, Mom." "He would have become a great man, I think. He would have grown up to be a great dad," Haller said.

Caroline Previdi, 6

A family friend who chose not to be named in the Washington Post said six year old Caroline Previdi was "a total sweetheart. She was adorable." The friend says that when she was younger, Caroline was called "Boo" due to her resemblance to the character in the movie "Monsters Inc." Caroline's older brother, Walker also attended Sandy Hook Elementary, he was unharmed during the attack. According to her obituary, Caroline had "an infectious grin and a giving heart." Jeff and Sandy Previdi, Caroline's parents, said in a statement that their daughter "was a blessing from God and brought joy to everyone she touched. We know that she is looking down on us from Heaven."

Jessica Rekos, 6

Jessica Rekos was six years old when she fell victim to the shooting in her school on Friday. Her mother, Krista, is a sixth grade teacher in the Bridgeport School District. Krista's Facebook page proudly displays photos of the children, Jessica, Travis, and Shane, and her cover photo is of Jessica and her brother with their arms draped around each from a family trip to Cape Cod. In a statement, Jessica's family said, "Jessica was our first born. She started our family, and she was our rock. She had an answer for everything, she didn’t miss a trick, and she outsmarted us every time. We called her our little CEO for the way she carefully thought out and planned everything."

Benjamin Wheeler, 6

When David and Francine Wheeler welcomed Benjamin into their lives, they picked up themselves and older son, Nate, left their native New York City and opted to settle down in Sandy Hook. Benjamin's mother, according to the Newtown Bee, is a music teacher who also performs and records children's songs. Rabbi Shaul Praver said, "There's always some brave individual who goes up to the dance floor to get everybody involved. That was Ben Wheeler." Ben looked up to his big brother and best friend, Nate. The family said that Friday morning before he left for Sandy Hook Elementary Ben explained to his mother, "I still want to be an architect, but I also want to be a paleontologist, because that's what Nate is going to be and I want to do everything Nate does." Ben also played soccer and the piano. He was an "irrepressibly bright and spirited boy whose love of fun and excitement at the wonders of life and the world could rarely be contained," according to his parents.

Madeleine Hsu, 6

Madeleine Hsu was "very upbeat and kind," according to her neighbor, Karen Dryer. She was a big sister to Logan, 5, and she loved to wear bright colored dresses. "She was a sweet, beautiful little girl," Dryer recalls of Madeleine. Dryer's son, Logan, was a year younger than Madeleine and scared to ride the bus to school. Dryer recalls Madeleine sitting with her son and reassuring him that everything would be alright.

Josephine Gay, 7

Josephine Gay was a very kind little girl, as her neighbors told the Wall Street Journal. Josephine loved the color purple, a color that now lines her neighborhood as purple balloons hang from each home. Josephine had celebrated her seventh birthday just this past Tuesday. She enjoyed riding her bike and selling homemade lemonade to neighbors from a lemonade stand.

James Mattiolo, 6

James Mattiolo was an energetic and adventurous little boy. He loved to play sports, was a great swimmer, and was very close with his big sister, Anna. According to his obituary, James loved to sing loudly and proudly and once asked, "How old do I have to be to sing on a stage?" James was very close with his parents who he loved spending time with. He would be the first up in the house in the morning wake up his mom, Cindy, to cuddle and help his dad, Mark, whom he closely resembled, with chores around the house.

Avielle Richman, 6

Avielle Richman and her family had moved from San Diego to Newtown, Conn. in the past few years. Avielle celebrated her sixth birthday in October at the Zoar Ridge Stables. According to a blog kept by her mother, Avielle had a pony named Betty and two cats named Molokai and Sally. She was learning to horseback ride and loved going to her lessons.

Allison Wyatt is remembered by her former preschool teacher, Kate Capellaro, as "a very shy girl, she was quiet and kept to herself, but she would smile at things. If a kid did something funny, she'd be laughing." Allison had an older sister, Kate. A neighbor remembered Allison as "kind, nice, and outgoing."

As the families of these victims are coping, there is not readily available information or photographs of all the youngest victims. If information or photographs become available, I will update and pay further tribute to these beautiful, young souls, as well.

I did not initially intended to delve into the stories of each and every victim of the Sandy Hook Elementary School shooting, however, as so much information has become available, it felt as though I had no choice but to pay my respects in the best way I know how. After researching and reading the stories of these teacher, children, and their families, I can honestly say that they have all been engrained in my mind. I know that I will remember their faces and names for years to come. Searching for the perfect photos to represent descriptions given by the families, I will recall their picture and be able to put a face to the name of each child and adult as they are discussed in the media. These 27 victims have come off the page and become real people to me. I mourn the loss of each and every one of them. My heart is broken for their families.

I don't know how you go back to normal life after a tragedy of this magnitude strikes. I am finding it hard to focus on anything other than Sandy Hook even as I am three degrees away, (one of my good friends has family in Newtown. Her cousins attended Sandy Hook Elementary and the family lives on the same street as the shooter. Thankfully, they are all safe.) Something like this affects all of us, near or far, directly related or not at all. School is supposed to be the safest place a child can go and now for 525 grade school children, they must find a way to return after such tragedy in their place of learning. My prayers are with each and every person hurting. Last night, I said the Mourner's Kaddish, a Jewish prayer said in honor of those who have passed away, in memory of the Sandy Hook victims. I hope their family and friends find comfort in their lives and that their pain is eased with every passing day. I will never forget their children. God bless.

The Quest for Mediocrity

2012-12-09T14:00:00.001-08:00

After the back to back match ups of the most brutal blowout in [very recent] history and the most deflated, excessively covered win, for week 14 the Jets headed to Jacksonville. Of course the biggest story line of the week was that the son of Christ, Tim Tebow would be returning to his hometown. My question is: Why?! If Tebow was playing quarterback, if he even had a chance to play, sure. Knock yourselves out, set up a whole studio show outside his locker and hotel room, report on every time he blows his nose and wipes his ass. But Tebow didn't play. Yes, Tebow was activated over recently beloved, third string, and most importantly, healthy quarterback Greg McElroy, but that's beside the point. We saw that one coming. The winds of change could only blow for so long and sure enough it was back to Mark Sanchez and the Inconsistent Bunch.

The first half was nothing short of horrendous. Bart Scott built us all up as he picked off Jacksonville quarterback, Chad Henne, on his first offensive drive, but the excitement stopped there. No Jets offensive drive would be complete without a Mark Sanchez fumble, which was followed up on the next drive with a Jeremy Kerley bobbled reception that ended up as a Jaguars interception. Miraculously, the garbage play on the field resulted in a Jacksonville lead of only 3-0 at half. The Jets' six first-half drives resulted in 3 three-and-outs, 2 turnovers, and finally a punt. What I recognized is that last week both sides of the ball looked as though they'd rather be anywhere other than Metlife Stadium. In this week's contest, both the Jets and the Jags seemed to be trying their hardest to really fight for that "not-the-worst-team-in-the-NFL" title. Of course, if you read the statistics, you'd recognize that the Jets are in a whole different classification than Jacksonville. The Jags have only two wins. They are ranked last in nearly every category you could possibly rank, (with the exception of quarterback completions or things of that nature, we know that Sanchez holds that special spot in the NFL's heart.) But somehow, our 5-7 team and their 2-10 team made for a rather even match up, especially in the eyes of the media storm. The first half of the game really did no help proving otherwise.

A spark of sorts was lit as the second half started. Following the Jags' three and out, the Jets started on a pretty solid drive down field led by Shonn Greene. As they entered the Red Zone, (they must have felt lost, how often are the Jets ever in the Red Zone on offense?!) a short pass to Kerley, which was thankfully caught and not fumbled, and a few more ground and pound attempts from Greene resulted in an end zone appearance. TOUCHDOWN. It felt like we hadn't heard that word in weeks.

This approach that we were told was the foundation for the Jets' offense for so long, was finally being put to use. The ground and pound was being utilized, and not only that, it was working! Soon the Jets had put 17 unanswered points on the board. A friendly fire helmet-to-helmet hit between Yeremiah Bell and Antonio Cromartie took Cro out of the game temporarily for evaluation in the locker room. A quick drive down field for Chad Henne and the Jaguars brought the game back within reach trailing only 17-10. Thankfully, as the Jags took the field in the final minute of the game, Cromartie was back in action. If there's any part of this team worth placing your faith in, it remains the defense. A few shaky performances cannot take away the fact that they are the only reasons the Jets remain in Wild Card contention. We had a bit of a scare as Henne was able to convert a pair of 4th downs and move down field, however as they entered the Red Zone with seconds remaining, the Jags took a page out of the Jets' playbook, and threw an interception to Ellis Lankster.

Game over, the Jets win. I'm glad my team won, that is not the question. The big question mark in my head is whether that is what's best for the team. Everyone loves this talk of the Jets being within playoff reach. Is that really what we want? Will that better this team in the future? The Jets will not win the Super Bowl this year. I'm so positive of that fact, that when a special project came up at work, I volunteered to work Super Bowl Sunday. I expect the Jets to

reach their signature record of 8-8, potentially make the playoffs, lose in the first round if they do, and end up with a crappy draft pick. After all, it happens that way nearly ever year, doesn't it? In the meantime, I'll take the win. I'm proud that through the negativity, the injury, and the scrutiny, that the Jets were able to pull this off on the road - and back to back at that! Beating Jacksonville is no big feat, but it is big for Sanchez and the rest of Gang Green's confidence. Games in Tennessee, home against San Diego, and in Buffalo remain, and the quest for mediocrity continues.

MC-EL-ROY

2012-12-08T22:00:00.000-08:00

Growing up, Sundays were time for my dad and I to bundle up and head to the Meadowlands. Sure, throughout my childhood the Jets were nothing to write home about, but he had season tickets and we went. One of my fondest memories will always be the game my dad and I went to in the dead of winter, easily the coldest day of the year. I don't remember who the Jets played, I don't remember the outcome of the game. What I do remember is that we layered up in so much warm clothes that we were barely able to move our extremities. I remember the thermoses of soup my mom made and the hand warmers, foot warmers, and even padded seat warmers she sent us with. I remember climbing all the way up to the top of the corner end zone section where our seats were practically the farthest from the players in the whole stadium. I remember it all because it was one of those bonding experiences with my dad that has and always will stay with me. It was hysterical. We didn't stay all game. But we went. We suited up and supported Gang Green like I have for 22 years.

This past Sunday, my dad decided that he was going to the game. He hadn't been to a game all season. In fact, the last game I remember going to with him was when he flew my whole family out to Indianapolis to see the Jets beat Peyton Manning and the Colts in the Wild Card playoff game in early 2011. You see, my parents are far bigger baseball fans than anyone I've ever met (and I work for Major League Baseball.) My parents live and breath for the Yankees. They love football, but for them, watching it from the comforts of home is far more appealing than freezing their asses off and sitting in traffic for hours. But Sunday, my dad and I headed to the Meadowlands to see the Jets take on the Cardinals.

I was pretty skeptical about Sunday's game. I knew rooting for a loss would help insure a better draft pick, but how do you root against your own team? I was also curious how the stadium would be. I expected a pretty small, hostile crowd. We decided for the first time in as long as I can remember, not to tailgate. Tailgates are high energy and about getting everyone pumped for the game ahead, but we had little to pump ourselves up about. I knew it had been awhile since my dad had been to the Meadowlands as soon as we went to get food. Ordering chicken fingers and fries for himself and a pizza for me, my dad took 10 dollars out of his wallet. I looked at him and laughed, "Dad, it's been awhile, huh? That's going to be at least 25." We got to our seats and watched as the majority of the loyal season ticket holders in our section showed up. One after the next we laughed as another friend would file in admitted, "I almost didn't come." All of us almost didn't come, but we were there.

As the team ran onto the field, I looked down below us to see a hole where Fireman Ed once sat. Sure the team brought out a group of adorable kids from Play 60 to lead a pregame chant, but the tradition was gone. As the opening kick off came, I became very anxious. Would the fans join together and chant as the ball sailed down field? Unfortunately, that didn't happen and thus started the post Fireman Ed era. The stadium was completely deflated. After a seven play drive, the Cardinals punted. On the Jets' very first offensive play, Mark Sanchez threw an interception. My dad stood up yelling and cursing the team in front of him. I sat and laughed. What more can you do? Apparently, watching at home, as he explained, it much more removed. You can change the channel, you can leave the room. When you're at the stadium it's you and the game, all the time.

The first half was nothing short of painful. We watched three interceptions. We saw the possibly half-full stadium start emptying out far before halftime just as it had at the Thanksgiving game. My dad even turned to me and said, "So when do we leave?" "A little longer," I responded, "Let's see what happens after half." I was nearly positive that Sanchez wouldn't be benched. I thought that the stubbornness of the coaching staff and front office would make third string QB, Greg McElroy's chances very slim. Nevertheless, the crowd booed Sanchez every time he touched the field, every failed play, and the "Mc-El-Roy" chants grew increasingly louder throughout the game.

When halftime came and went, we hoped, with little faith, that there would be a change. And then we saw the most encouraging sight we had seen all day: Greg McElroy wearing a helmet having a catch with a baseball capped Mark Sanchez. Could it be? The fans started to take note and the boos began turning into a roaring applause. I couldn't believe my eyes. Rex Ryan was actually benching Mark Sanchez in favor of McElroy. The stadium was alive for the first time all day.

We stood watching in awe as McElroy took the field. It was a great moment to see the powers that be seemingly working to better the team for the first time in weeks. No, I don't think that Greg McElroy is the answer to all of the Jets' problems, but what we've been doing thus far is not working. Something needs to change. Maybe bringing in some life at the quarterback position, some new, young blood, is exactly the spark we needed. McElroy is not only benched for this Sunday's contest in Jacksonville, but he's been made inactive in order for Tim Tebow, the hometown boy, to get the nod as Sanchez's backup. It's a travesty, if you ask me. I'm ready for the 8-8, just miss the playoffs, and ruin draft position season. I know it's coming, it does every year. But for that one day, boy did my dad and I have something to cheer for.

An Open Letter to My Fellow Jets Fans

2012-11-28T13:10:00.000-08:00

Gang Green,

It has taken me a few day to really recuperate to a level where I feel I am ready and willing to address you about the events that occurred on November 22, 2012, a day that will forever live in infamy for the New York Jets. This past Thursday, our men were massacred to a point of no return. The slight glimmer of hope we once held despite pain and ridicule was stomped out, spit on, set on fire, and sent out to sea. Vegas dropped our odds of winning the Super Bowl to 300 to 1. Boston celebrated. And most crushing of all, Fireman Ed quit.

I, along with 79,087 others, spent my Thanksgiving night in exotic East Rutherford, New Jersey. Rather than stay warm, eating until combustion, and drinking myself to oblivion with the rest of my family, my brothers and I bundled up and headed to the Meadowlands. The night started off festive as ever. We joined family friends in an extensive tailgate complete with tents, tarp, a generator, (us Tri-Staters have become experts on these post-Sandy,) a space heater, toasters, microwaves, a multi-course Thanksgiving feast, and of course, enough alcohol so that we could forget the inevitable loss ahead.

At this point, we still had hope. We had just watched the Jets beat the Rams (and more importantly, beat Brian Schottenheimer and Wayne Hunter, aka the scapegoats in all of our problems prior to this season.) We had hoped that win would fuel the fire and propel the Jets as they returned to home turf to face their archenemies. Could there be a Thanksgiving Day miracle better than Tim Tebow, the prodigal son, taking down the spawn of Satan himself, Tom Brady? I think not.

As we made our way through the parking lot, there seemed to be far more Massholes than I expected. Had I somehow driven to Foxborough and ended up at Gillette? The stadium in front of me was green, I had only driven a half hour, so why on Earth was I surrounded by so much more red, white, and blue than green and white? We made our way to our seats where we thankfully settled in with the usual crowd of season ticket holders alongside whom we normally hang our heads and beg the question, "Why were we born Jets fans?" Somehow, a group of delinquent Pats fans had acquired tickets in our section. The hazing began immediately. Following matching 3 and outs, the Jets' D stopped Brady's drive, forced them to kick for three, and we all watched in awe as Gostkowski's kick sailed wide left. NO GOOD!

We cheered, we screamed, we chanted louder than ever as we followed our faithful leader, Fireman Ed, in the J! E! T! S! chant as the ball was kicked into the Jets' possession. A decent rushing drive was capped off by a Sanchez interception, but miraculously, the quarter ended without any score on either end.

And then it happened. Faster than you could even start a Tebow chant, the Jets fumbled three times, and just like that the score was 27-0. Within 52 seconds, the Patriots put up 21 points. I'm not sure if that's even possible, but somehow it happened. That's not all, by the time there were less than four minutes remaining in the first half, the score had progressed to 35-0. I have never left a Jets game early, (with the exception of when I was two years old at a Jets 49ers game, my parents forgot my pacifier in the car. I cried and made them leave. They will never let me live that down,) however, we were fed up.

Our season tickets are in the section directly above those of Fireman Ed's. Before we left, I made a point to glance down, curious as to whether or not our beloved mascot was keeping the faith that the rest of us had lost. That's when I saw it: Fireman Ed packed up and leaving Metlife stadium. I have seen this before. I've seen him leave early. I heard that he had bailed on the Dolphins game before the bye week. But this was Thanksgiving, nationally televised, and against the Patriots. This week was different. This game was different. Of course we were all fed up, but you're Fireman Ed. You make your poor brother hoist you up on his shoulder ten times a game as you lead 82,000 lunatics in the greatest chant in sports. Hell, I have a t-shirt with your damn face on it. You left? How dare you.

Completely defeated, there was nothing to do but laugh and ask god, "Why, oh why, was I not born a Giants fan?" As I reached the parking lot and fireworks went off behind me, we recognized that poor Lenny Kravitz would be playing a practically private concert for the 12 fans who had stayed behind. We couldn't take anymore. We deserve better than that. As I got in the car, I began to catch up on my Twitter feed. Fans and journalists from far and wide were bashing the Jets and their dreadful performance. I saw USA Today NFL columnist, Mike Garafolo, point out that Fireman Ed was no longer in seat and decided that I was as reliable a source as any to report my findings. From there the media storm took off:

I confirmed: Fireman Ed left. I saw it with my own eyes. I knew I was right, so why did I have this feeling in the pit of my stomach? I thought it was just the nausea setting in from the combination of the 35 point second quarter and the ungodly amount of liquors mixed throughout the day, but it wasn't. It was worse.

I'm breaking news. I'm literally, single handedly, outing the one person who has always believed in the Jets. The man who still dressed up even in the dark ages of Chad Pennington and even worse, Brett Favre.

After that, Fireman Ed deleted his Twitter account. My Twitter mentions kept flowing in. People both thanking and cursing me. People damning Fireman Ed to all hell. People questioning if, in fact, I was a reliable source. I hoped what I saw was wrong. I hoped he was headed to the bathroom or perhaps was running to his car and had some special privilege to leave and reenter the stadium. I didn't want to be right, but I was. The media storm surrounding Fireman Ed continued until days later, he quit. Fireman Ed quit. He walked out on us, the fans, the players, the coaches. He walked out on Sanchez, who he believed in perhaps more than anyone.

I know that I am not the reason that Fireman Ed abandoned us. I know that he has been taking heat from fans for every reason under the sun for years. I know that he is not as beloved to the masses as he was to me growing up. But I feel a sense of responsibility. When his letter came out to Jets fans explaining his decision to 'retire,' I died a little inside. Of course, I was relieved that he acknowledged that he had, in fact, left when I had reported. I was glad to have put my journalist hat on as the priority above my fan hat in that situation. I remain thankful for the credit I received from Garafolo, Conor Orr, Mike Vorkunov, and many others; men whose beats and Twitter feeds I read religiously and hope to one day call my colleagues as I advance in my career as a sports journalist. I have seen news spread like wildfire through social media, but I have never been the one to light the match before.

So, my friends, what have I taken from all of this? I have decided that Fireman Ed, for all the good he brought for so many years, deserves our thanks. He united us. He inspired us. At the same time, his abandonment in our lowest times shows that he is anything but 'diehard.' We are diehard. Any one of you whom I see this coming Sunday at Metlife Stadium still wearing green and white is diehard. Every one of you who joins in on chanting J! E! T! S! this Sunday is diehard. No, I do not believe the team or front office personnel we have right now are the answers. I do not see a Super Bowl Championship coming home with us in February. But I stand by my team. I bleed green and white. I may get frustrated, but I would never take an entire fandom on my back and simply quit when the going got rough. Some say that the chant dies with Fireman Ed. But the chant is way bigger than Fireman Ed ever was. 82,000 voices are far bigger than one could ever be.

Stand up, Gang Green.

J! E! T! S!

JETS!

My love, respect, gratitude, and eternal dedication to the New York Jets,

Ashley

An Update from the LIGHT!

2012-11-05T16:13:00.000-08:00

God said "let there be light," and there was light!

Thanks to the tireless, round the clock work of PSE&G at the urging of East Brunswick's Mayor, David Stahl, I am happy to report that as of this evening, I officially have power in my home. I cannot wait to return home and not have to open my garage door manually, use a lantern to get around, warm up by sitting next to the fireplace, attempt to put make up on by leaning out the window, or have to walk my dog in the pitch black with a flashlight in hand. I am looking forward to a warm shower and a warm house to dry off in, walking my dog on a lit street, a night not completely bundled up almost to the point of immobilization, and some mindless hours watching awful television. I can't wait to go to my proper polling place and place a vote to help determine the next president of the United States of America tomorrow.

I've learned a lot in my week detached from technology. My faith in humanity and the selflessness of strangers has been restored. I spent hours keeping my Dad's spirits up and he returned the favor equally as much. I fell even more in love with my pup. No matter how awful our conditions got, she remained largely unfazed, still wanting to play and run and always bringing a smile to our faces. I woke up one morning to find out that a young man had been traveling through my neighborhood with nothing but a chainsaw and determination to help. He helped my dad remove the gigantic branches that had come down during the storm and that took up the majority of my front and back yards, chopped them up, and brought them down to the street for pick up. I met a cab driver in New York City who not only had left his family in their powerless Brooklyn apartment, but had been driving back and forth to Connecticut just to fill his gas tank in order to continue working. I met a pizza delivery woman who left her children with a neighbor so that she could work in the warmth and deliver warm food to those in the cold. I kept tabs via Twitter on our mayor as he fought for the people of my town, demanding answers and action from the power companies even as his own family still remained in the dark. I was invited into the homes of friends, family, and former classmates throughout my town, state, region, reaching all the way north to Boston and south to Miami. I thank each and every one of you and encourage anyone effected to pay it forward to those in need around you.

Tomorrow polls open throughout the country as voters will flock to polling places, hopefully, in record numbers. New Yorkers and New Jerseyians who have been displaced from the storm are able to vote in any polling place in their state. There is also the option of email ballots by calling your country clerk's office and requesting email ballot authorization. No matter your affiliation or where you stand on the political spectrum, do yourself and your country a favor and cast a vote tomorrow. This is our future and we should all have a say in the path we take over the next four years. Let your voice be heard.

Anxious to head back to a warm house and cast my own vote tomorrow.

Stay warm,

Ashley

Greetings from the Darkness

2012-11-05T11:00:00.000-08:00

Hi my loves. I'm sorry to be away from you for so long but I've been living in the dark hole, better known as New Jersey. Being that I live a half hour from the shore, I thought there was no way this storm could really effect my suburban town as badly as was being predicted. Boy, was I wrong. Thankfully, my family was not effected nearly as badly as thousands throughout New York and New Jersey. My house is standing and dry and our cars are unharmed. If you are able to volunteer or donate to the relief in the area, it would be so greatly appreciated by those who have lost loved ones, homes, cars, and memories. Being that I am now on day eight without power in my home, I have been pretty isolated from the endless news coverage of the storm. It's a pretty surreal feeling being cut off from the rest of society for over a week. It's amazing how much we rely on technology not only for entertainment but for the bare essentials.

In areas of New Jersey, my hometown included, gas is being rationed; allowing people with even license plate numbers to get gas on even dates and vice versa with odd numbers and dates. Gas lines are hours long. If you have the luxury of a generator, most gas stations requiring that you wait outside in the cold and some are even limiting the number of cans they will fill for you. By the way, the last time there was gas rationing in New Jersey, it was 1973.

When we lost power initially on Monday, my house was shelter to my parents, two younger brothers, my grandparents, myself, and of course, my pup, Zoey. Day two added the addition of my aunt and uncle. As the days went on, it became too cold for the family to bare. My grandparents regained power and took my mom and brother with them to the warmth. My aunt and uncle took refuge in a near by hotel that had power restored. My brother returned to college, figuring it was better to be there in the dark than home (I don't blame him, I'd take college in any state, any day!) My dad, Zoey, and I suffered the brunt.

In the beginning, I was so optimistic. Exactly a year ago to the week, a blizzard hit Western Massachusetts. Being that I was up in Amherst at the time, my house lost power for eight days. I toughed out the first two, spent two in a hotel, and was thankfully brought in to the warm household of friends for the remainder of the blackout. I thought that was as bad as it would ever get... and then came eight straight days in a powerless house, six days unable to get to work, gas rationing, and a threatening Nor'easter. Awesome.

Still, I am thankful. Thankful that the worst I have had to deal with is a few cold nights. Thankful that my family is all healthy and safe and able to stay in their own homes which have been largely unharmed. Thankful to the policemen, firemen, first responders, utility workers, volunteers, and politicians that have been working around the clock since Sandy came onto our radar to help as many people as they possibly could. And incredibly thankful that life will return to normal. Soon.

Help your neighbors and stay safe.

Xoxo,

Ashley

I Hate You, Tom Brady

2012-10-23T17:09:00.000-07:00

I really did not want to write this article. I really hoped that the outcome this past Sunday would have been different and I would be writing a bragging, celebratory post boasting about New England's failures and dangling first place over their heads. Sadly, that eternal itch I can't scratch, Tom Brady, did it again. God, I hate him. While the Jets fell 29-26 in an overtime heart breaker to the Patriots, all was not lost. Yes, a win's a win and a loss is a loss. I'm not one for moral victories, they don't affect the standings so they don't count. However, Sunday's battle in Foxborough proved one thing to the world: these are not the same untouchable Patriots that we've come to expect throughout the Brady/Belichick era. Of course Pats fans like to think nothing's changed, but it has.

After the defense forced Brady into a quick 3 and out, the Jets offense took the field. A confident and surprisingly calm Mark Sanchez gathered and instructed his offensive in a way we haven't seen since the 2010 season. Sanchez connected with Jeremy Kerley twice for fifty yards as they drove down the field. At only 6:09 into the first quarter, Shonn Greene rushed into the endzone and put up the first points on the board for either team. It's those rare glimmers of greatness that keep Jets fans and staff in the constant love/hate struggle with the quarterback.

Before I was even done bragging to all of my friends up in Boston, (cons of going to UMass, too many Massholes,) Devin McCourty, born in the same hospital as yours truly (Nyack, NY represent,) returned the kick off to the house. Just like that the game was back to even again and we were barely halfway through the first quarter. From there it seemed like it'd be another one of those days. A touchdown, an ugly penalty on Sanchez resulting in a safety, potentially Sanchez's worst interception later, and the Jets found themselves down 16-7 with thirteen minutes remaining before halftime. Plenty of time. The Jets had deferred possession when they won the opening coin toss, brilliant plan. All the Jets needed was a quick score before the half and it would be a brand new game.

The Jets made their way down the field, but just couldn't pull out the seven point in the end and capped an impressive drive with a mediocre three points. After half was a different story. Sanchez came out completely re-energized going 16/20 for 190 yards and a touchdown. At the end of 60 minutes, it just was not enough for these two bitter rivals. Although my heart was just about to give out, to overtime we went. The Pats winning the toss was a dark sign. The Jets defense was on. Of course there were a few bogus calls and ugly penalties throughout the game, but what else is new, they're still the Jets. Brady drove down the field with the help of a garbage pass interference call on Kyle Wilson; the closest ref to the play watched and called an incomplete pass while the ref 20 yards away threw a flag? Give me a break. Anyway, somehow they were held to three points. Three points means that the Jets had the opportunity to match or beat that to continue or end the game on their own terms. Sanchez drove again to their own 40 yard line. That's when everything went dark. Sanchez was strip sacked on 2nd and 10 by defensive end Rob Ninkovich. That was it. The end.

It didn't matter that Sanchez had an impressive day completing 28 of 41 passes for 328 yards and two touchdowns. It didn't matter that even without Darelle Revis, Santonio Holmes, and Bilal Powell that the Jets had brought the once mighty Patriots to fight for their life in overtime. The Patriots beat us, pretty fairly and squarely too. Now it's all about Thanksgiving. If the same mediocre Pats that showed up to Foxborough on Sunday show up in the Meadowlands on Thanksgiving night in front of a relentless crowd of Jets, they're going down. That's a promise.

WTF

2012-10-23T15:02:00.000-07:00

Every now and then today's athletes and other major figures in the sports world need to be called out for their insane behavior, ridiculous press conferences, peculiar tweets, and just general outlandish behavior. Maybe a little more than "every now and then," since this crazy shit happens all the time. Sure, Deadspin calls them out on it, but is that really enough? As fans and constant critics of our favorite sports personalities, we share in the responsibility of calling out their bullshit.

Where to even begin... How about with the breaking news? Miami Marlins' President Larry Beinfast released a statement this afternoon firing Fidel Castro's biggest (and only) fan in Miami, Marlins manager Ozzie Guillen. "After careful consideration following the disappointment of the 2012 season, we decided to dismiss Ozzie," Beinfast said. Now, the MLB's resident lunatic skipper was brought in to lead the relocated and completely renovated Marlins to victory. Unfortunately for Miami, they ended up with a pathetic 69-93 record. Even more unfortunately is that if Guillen doesn't find a new managerial job before the 2013 season, the Marlins will be eating the $7.5 million owed to him over the remaining three years of his contract. Sucks to suck, huh?

Onto the NFL. The WTF moment of week 7 comes in response to the Ndamukong Suh powerbomb to perennial annoyed and wimpy Bears QB Jay Cutler. I say powerbomb, because, well, look at that move! Someone call Dana White, this man needs a UFC contract immediately! Makes me question why he wasn't doing that during last year's lockout in the first place... Anyway, week seven's Monday Night Football competition between the Lions and the Bears was halted as Cutler laid on the ground expressionless (as always,) left the game briefly for xrays, and then returned to play. Following the game, always outspoken teammate, Brandon Marshall, took to his twitter and called out Suh saying, "A Suh. Something I've learned and now passing down to you. Succeed with character." While Marshall was not happy with how his precious quarterback was taken down, Cutler didn't quite see it that way. "It was a tough hit and he caught me just right. It was an awkward fall more than anything. I still think it was clean and he is a good player," Cutler said in an interview with the Chicago Tribune, "I knew it was my ribs and it wasn't my shoulder or head or anything like that. His knee and the ball got caught in my ribs. I knew on my way down it wasn't going to be good." But Cutler returned to play, unlike in the 2011 NFC Championship Game when he cried all the way home. So, again, enough out of you, Brandon Marshall.

Jumping over to the NBA, the Washington Wizards and their season ticket holders spent the night at Six Flags America yesterday. As Deadspin reported, fans were able to take pictures, get autographs, and of course ride the coasters with their favorite stars. Unfortunately, Emeka Okafor didn't quite measure up correctly for the Superman: Ride of Steel. The 6'10'' center was just too tall to securely ride the coaster. Just as he was strapped in and ready for take off, he was instead forced off the ride. Let's hope someone won him a really big teddy bear or something to make it all better.

While we're on the topic of completely obscene NBA stories, let's skip on over to La La Land, where some interesting news has become public surrounding the Lakers' newest superstar. In the business of the daily DUI arrests, Laker fans and personnel won't have to worry about Dwight Howard falling into that trap. According to ESPNLA.com Lakers beat writer, Dave McMenamin, "Dwight has never been drunk in his life. In fact, he's only had one alcoholic drink in his 26 years: a celebratory shot of CÎROC (P Diddy's top-shelf vodka) with his friends when the Lakers trade became official this summer." Wait, wait, wait. Let me get this straight, Dwight "Superman" Howard, never drank liquor in his 26 years before signing with the Lake Show? This can't be right. I searched tirelessly and no embarrassing photos or videos exist, unfortunately. I really wanted to prove that one wrong. One point for you, Dwight.

Perhaps the funniest moment of the week goes to Jet-killer and all sack machine, Houston's J.J. Watt. The 6'6'' 295 pound defensive end leads the league with 9 1/2 sacks and 10 blocked passes and on Sunday he took out his frustrations on poor Ravens running back, Ray Rice. Watt, who was mic'd up by ESPN for the game, used one of the greatest shit talking lines I think cameras have ever captured when he told Rice, who's only 5'8'', that he's "eaten burritos bigger than you." Game, set, match.

Tebowing™ And Beyond

2012-10-20T14:25:00.000-07:00

Sunday marks the day Jets fans both anxiously anticipate and slightly dread each and every season - the inevitable game against the Patriots in New England. Of course, the rivalry between the Jets and Pats extends past football and feeds into the ever present New York versus Boston battle. Since Rex Ryan took over as head coach and drafted quarterback Mark Sanchez in 2009, the Pats lead the Jets only four games to three in regular season play. This week's match up is extremely important as all four teams in the AFC East have identical records of 3-3. With the Jets having won two divisional games already, beating the Patriots would bring them to 3-0 in the AFC East and give them a great advantage as the season progresses. But the question remains, just how will Rex's Jets beat Brady and Belichick?

After injuries to running backs Bilal Powell and Joe McKnight during last week's demolition of the Indianapolis Colts, Rex has announced that the almighty one, Tim Tebow will be getting his shot as a running back this week. Reports are ramped about Tebow's practicing with the team's remaining rushers. Since the Jets announced the signing of Tebow in March (yes I remember EXACTLY where I was and what I was doing when I got the news,) I've been saying that the only way this is going to work in the Jets' favor is to let the boy run. No I don't think he'll line up as a back and end up blowing us all away finding holes wherever he goes. But, I think it is absolutely worth a shot because nothing else is working. The media hype and fan obsession is too big to leave this guy sitting on the bench all season. While Powell and McKnight are out, I do think that this is a really good option to get him out on the field and especially on 3rd and shorts, use him in a spot where he may be doing some good for the team. This has been a big week for Timmy already as he finally was granted a trademark for the term, "Tebowing," in order "to just control how it's used, make sure it's used in the right way," his representative claimed.

Whatever happens on Sunday, it sounds like we're in for a bit of a show by Gang Green. Word around town is that Rex is pulling out all of the stops. Both Ryan and defensive coordinator Mike Pettine have spoken out about Belichick's stunts recently surrounding their no huddle, hurry up offensive schemes. The Jets big rigs are claiming that while the Pats are permitted to make quick changes in order to throw their opponents off track, the officials need to be sure to grant the defense the proper time to substitute their players in response accordingly. Nothing will make me happier than watching Skinny Rex force Brady and Belichick to follow the rules down to the NFL rulebook standards, especially on their home turf. This weekend's contest is sure to be a hard fought battle. Here's to hoping we see the Jets of weeks one and six and not whoever the hell showed up to the 49ers game.

See You Next Season

2012-10-19T16:34:00.000-07:00

When Jeter went down it was like you could physically see the remaining Yankees deflating. Not that the Bombers were on top of their game throughout the ALDS series against the Orioles, but at least there was little bit of fire in their eyes. I'm one of those fans that sticks by my teams, especially the Yankees, to the last pitch. However, during the ALCS, it was apparent early on that the Yanks just weren't all there. After losing the Captain in extra innings during the first game, the future seemed bleak. Still, we hung on, we believed, but game two was even flatter than the first - even with Yanks pitcher, Hiroki Kuroda, hurling a perfect game through five innings (and a one hitter through six!) Game two blended with game three and by the time game four was rained out, we found ourselves almost thankful that we lived to die another day. And then the day came. The Yanks trailed the Tigers 0-3 in the series, but C.C. was set to take the mound. Everyone has an off day, and unfortunately Thursday, October 18th was Sabathia's day to be off his game. The game was ugly.

Alex Rodriguez was benched again, a decision I absolutely did not agree with. Sure Arod and his hundred million dollar contract weren't hitting, but neither was his replacement Eric Chavez. At that point, you need to choose Arod's fielding ability at third over Chavez's. Word around the web is that the Yanks are in talks to send Alex to play back in his hometown, Miami, and that the decision not to play him came from over Girardi's head. I feel for Joe, poor guy is being Billy Martin-ed by the Steinbrenners upstairs. If all this is true and the front office folk are choosing to sit Arod in order to piss him off enough for him to opt out of his contract and agree to go down to Miami, than so be it. But enough over ruling the manager, let him do his job, he's in a crappy enough position as it is. No one is hitting. I mean Cano, Granderson, Arod each had three hits all post season. THREE. Jeter left three games early and still ended with nine hits, as many as those three combined. Across the board the Yanks were flat, the bats were dead, the fielding was sub par, and even the addition of pretty stellar pitching performances were just not enough.

The Yanks fell in their final game of 2012 8-1.

As if the loss wasn't enough, TBS made a mockery of the entire thing. The whole Cal Ripken commentating the Yanks/O's series was pretty annoying, but yesterday took the cake. In the bottom of the fourth, TBS got a headset on ace pitcher Justin Verlander for a dugout interview. The interview totally distracted from the game as Verlander and the commentators bullshitted back and forth as slowly the bases were loaded. As the guys in the booth tried to end the interview, Verlander interjected that the headset was good luck and that he was staying on, much to the network's delight. Being that the Tigers scored four runs that half inning, it lasted easily a half hour. Let's just totally disregard the game on the field and fuck around with Verlander, the viewers will love this, right? WRONG.

So ends the run of the 2012 Yankees. It's heartbreaking. Every year we strive for yet another World Series Championship and anything short of that is a failure. Yet, an American League East pennant was a great accomplishment and this team will undoubtedly bounce back next year. Nevertheless, I am and always will be proud to be a New York Yankees fan. I tell my parents all the time that it is the greatest gift they've ever given me. Next year we continue on the road to 28 World Series Championships. Until then, get well Jeter and Rivera, we need you.

Touchdown, So That's Good?

2012-10-15T12:05:00.001-07:00

As a Jets season ticket holder and die hard fan, you find your weeks dictated by either the atrocities committed against Gang Green or the unbelievable wins that they somehow held on to pull off. The Jets are known to bring you up to the point where you think they may actually have a shot at greatness, only to bring you down and stomp out your hopes and dreams (hello, Brett Favre.) This year's been one of the rougher seasons. Though the Jets were 2-3 heading into week six where they'd face the post-Peyton Manning Indianapolis Colts at home in the Meadowlands, the wins were ugly and the losses were pretty much unwatchable. Of course week one's 48-28 win over Buffalo was beautiful and the unexpected close game with the previously undefeated Texans last week was an almost-win that was almost cause for celebration, overall it hasn't been pretty.

This week was a total change of pace. The Jets took the field Sunday and showed the world exactly what they've been running their mouths about for weeks. The offense was on. Remember that 'ground and pound?' The running strategy the Jets used to use and have only been talking about ever since? Well, it's back! Running back Shonn Greene who has been pretty ineffective recently, played the best game of his career rushing 32 times for 161 yards and three touchdowns. That's not all. Constantly questioned starting quarterback Mark Sanchez may have only completed 11 of 18 passes for 82 yards, but he threw for two touchdowns and zero interceptions. With wide receivers Stephen Hill and Jason

Hill (no relation) on the field, Stephen back from injury, and Jason the Jets' newest free agent signing, as well as tight end Dustin Keller, the offense seemed much more comfortable. Both Hills caught touchdown passes from Sanchez. The prodigal son, Jets back up quarterback, Tim Tebow, also had a great play Sunday afternoon. On fourth down, the Jets were set to punt the ball back to Indianapolis. Tebow came out on the field with the special teams unit, something that has become rather common. On this fourth down, however, a fake punt set the stage for Tebow to pass the ball to a wide open Nick Bellore in the middle of the field. It was incredible. The crowd went absolutely wild. When the Jets were up 21-6 at half time we were genuinely confused and astounded. My fellow season ticket holders and I looked around asking ourselves and each other, "Touchdowns, so those are good right?" Somehow, the day continued like this.

The defense was on point as well. Rookie and Jets first round pick, Quinton Coples had 1 1/2 sacks, the firsts of his career. Indy quarterback, Andrew Luck, was shut down on multiple occasions. The defense was so good that the Colts were held to only three field goals. Of course, there was the disappointment of two Antonio Cromartie pick sixes called back (one because of a call on Aaron Maybin, the other due to a pass interference call on Cromartie.) But all in all the day was a complete success. Finally we got the see in action what the Jets have wanted to accomplish since week one. We may be down some key players (most notably Darelle Revis and Santonio Holmes both out for the season,) but if the Jets can step up and play like they did on Sunday, there's no telling how far this team can go. The Jets finished Sunday's rout winning 35-9 and holding Luck to just 22 for 44, 280 yards, no touchdowns, and two interceptions. The win put them back on par at 3-3 even with the rest of the division, and technically in first because of a 2-0 divisional record. I'd call that one for the books.

So Long Sweet Captain

2012-10-15T11:27:00.001-07:00

On Saturday night one of the most devastating things to ever happen in New York Yankees history took place. Just months after we watched in horror as Mariano Rivera was carted off the field, Derek Jeter overextended himself playing on an already bruised ankle without taking even a day off. The captain is pretty much the epitome of a team player. The man got his 3,000th hit in incredible fashion, but was happier that his team won the game that it came in. His team clinched the AL East pennant midway through the last game of the season and as his teammate celebrated, Jeter's expression never changed and as he explained, they still had a game to finish and win.

So on Saturday night, when Jeter fielded a ball in the top of the twelfth inning and neither finished the play nor got up afterwards, we knew something was terribly wrong. The captain just laid there, with pure anguish and pain on his face. The stadium went quiet, hell, it felt like all of New York went quiet. With the exception of seeing Mariano carted off this past May with a torn ACL, I have never been in such a deep depression surrounding the Yankees. Sure I've seen them knocked out of the playoffs and even lose the World Series, but the shock and horror of losing the heart and soul of the organization is a pain almost impossible to shake. When Mo got hurt we thought his career might be over. We prayed and now we've seen him back in pinstripes to throw out the ceremonial first pitch at last Wednesday's ALCS game three. When Jeter went down we

knew it was bad, when he was carried off the field putting no weight at all on his left leg we knew it was worse, but the announcement by Joe Girardi after the game sealed his fate. Broken ankle, six week recovery, out for the remainder of the 2012 postseason. Even typing those words now is hard. It's bad enough that Jeet won't play, but on Sunday it was announced that he's in Charlotte, North Carolina meeting with undoubtedly the best foot specialist in the country and he will not be traveling to Detroit with the team for games three, four, and five of the ALCS.

This may be the biggest blow of them all. Of course we want DJ3K in the field and probably more so behind the plate leading off, but a locker room without Derek Jeter? Flights to and from Detroit, work outs, batting practices, time spent in the locker room and dug out without the captain, the heart and soul of this franchise? The guy who has been there since 1996 day in and day out, the guy who has played in every single Yankees postseason game since October 1995. I really don't know if this team can move forward and win another game without him. At first I thought maybe Alex Rodriguez could go back to shortstop, after all he won the Golden Glove twice and won the Silver Slugger and made the All Star team seven times each as a short stop. Girardi says it's been too long to put him back there, but could anything be much worse than what we're seeing right now? The Yanks ended up losing the Saturday night game following Jeter's injury, and they looked like they were moving in slow motion Sunday from the first pitch to the last out.

Starting the ALCS down two games and now traveling to Detroit to face Verlander, really seems like the end of the 2012 run. I hope I'm wrong. I hope Jeter's absence wakes up the rest of our bats and these guys go out there, give it all they've got, and bring the whole damn thing home for their captain, but I really don't see it happening. Here I am in a deep Yankees depression with no end in sight. Either way, next season will bring a ton of changes, but most importantly, it will bring the triumphant return of Derek Jeter and Mariano Rivera. I can't wait.

Bring on Verlander, the Prince, and the Triple Crown

2012-10-13T17:52:00.001-07:00

If you live under a rock or my blog is your only source of sports news, then the fact that the Yankees beat the Orioles in last night's game five is actually news to you! Still, it's worth celebrating all over again. With Arod benched, (a decision I found totally ballsy and equally as necessary being that he was 0-12 against rightys throughout the ALDS,) the rest of the line up began to wake up. The Yanks battled their way to a 3-1 win over the O's thanks to Curtis Granderson remembering how to make contact between bat and ball and a stellar pitching performance by ace C.C. Sabathia.

While there was little doubt in my mind that the Yanks would make it to the ALCS, I still found myself completely disheveled waiting for game 5 to start and end. I had to work, but I was sure to wear the same outfit I had previously warn to game 3 at the stadium - complete with fuzzy hat/gloves. You may call it crazy, but I can't help myself with my sports superstitions. As the ESPN commercial says, it's only crazy if it doesn't work - and it did! So, I'm good.

Tonight, starts the first legitimate challenge for the Bombers as the Detroit Tigers come to town. The Tigers are good, like really fucking good. They have arguably the greatest pitcher in baseball, almost definitely in the American League in 17 game winner Justin Verlander. While Verlander can't pitch every game, Prince Fielder and Miguel Cabrera will sure as hell make an impact. Fielder was one of the most sought after free agents this past off season. The four time all star and second ever two-time Home Run Derby Champion (2009 and 2012,) is a dangerous weapon. Then there's Miguel Cabrera. You know, the guy who's done something no one else has been able to accomplish since Carl Yastrzemski in 1967? Triple fucking Crown. The guy won the Triple Crown! To put that into perspective for you, the last Yankee to win the Triple Crown was Mickey Mantle in 1956. So they've got a stacked line up and one of the best pitchers the game has ever seen... we've got Derek Jeter, the face of baseball, C.C. Sabathia who's pretty much flawless on the mound, Andy Pettitte who's experience alone is a treat, forget the fact that he pitched incredible in game 2 and lost because he couldn't get the run support, and of course, Mr. Clutch, Mr. Walkoff, the one, the only, RAUUUUL Ibanez. Sad that Ibanez was mentioned over Cano, Granderson, and Arod. Half a billion right there doing pretty damn near nothing (except for Grandy winning it for us in ALDS game 5, let's hope he continues like that!) Realistically, I think the Yankees have this as long as the big bats wake up. As long as we get base runners from time to time, and our home run hitters... well, hit home runs, this series should be a tough one, but I say Yanks in six.

Where legends are made

2012-10-12T14:10:00.000-07:00

Five game series are such a mess. Anything can happen in five games - anything, including the Orioles miraculously bringing the Yankees to game five. The nearly impossible has happened. Who would have thought that with all of the pitching issues the Bombers have encountered this season, that it would be the batters we're all worried about. The majority of the backlash is going straight at Alex Rodriguez, and at full speed too. If you're like me, you're having the repeated flashbacks of the Raul Ibanez game tying and winning home runs over and over in your mind. Yesterday Arod was bumped down from third to fifth in the batting order.
As I drove to work today I got a frantic call from my mother that went something like this:

Mom: Did you hear the breaking news?!
Me: No, what's going on? Is everything okay?
Mom: AROD WAS BENCHED WOOHOO!

This is how I get my breaking news, ladies and gentlemen. At least now you understand a little better where my obsessive love for my sports teams comes from. Either way, I think this is a gutsy, but great call by Joe Girardi. Arod is 0-12 when facing right handed pitchers this postseason. Why risk furthering the slump when Eric Chavez has the talent and experience in the field and his bat could potentially be a help to the otherwise rough batters in the line up. The most exciting line up addition to Friday's game five is, however, Raul Ibanez as designated hitter. Ibanez single handedly tied and won game three so especially with a righty on the mound, he absolutely deserves the start. game five kicks off at 5pm with C.C. Sabathia on the mound for the Yanks and apparently, Andy Pettitte available in the bull pen. Game five is where legends are made.

RAH-OOL

2012-10-11T16:33:00.000-07:00

Last night, I had the honor of witnessing live one of the most incredible baseball games I have ever watched, (and growing up in my house, Yankee games are practically religious holidays.) My mother, one of the biggest Yankee fans I know, and I headed to the Bronx for game three of the American League Division Series where our Yanks would be seeking a 2-1 lead over the (normally pathetic, but miraculously good this year) Baltimore Orioles.

Going to the Cathedral of baseball during the playoffs is a particularly great experience. Of course, the atmosphere is amazing, as you know that the greatest franchise in sports history is, more likely than not, going to pursue further greatness. But the real treat, is that postseason baseball has no room for tourists or casual fans. You know, those people who are in town for a minute and figure why not catch a glimpse of Derek Jeter, but realistically spend the majority of the game blocking your view to take pictures and wandering around the stadium sampling all of the food the stadium has to offer. As a diehard fan, I can't stand those people. Sure, I love that no matter what city I travel to (except probably Boston,) I can see an uprooted Yankee fan. I obviously enjoy the outpouring of support across social media following big wins, but god are they annoying come game day at the stadium.

Playoffs in the Bronx are a special time. A time when it is completely valid to take off work and spend the day going through the most ridiculous superstitions in order to be sure that you did your part to help the boys in blue in anyway you came. Playoffs for my family, are a time for togetherness. For most of the season, our season tickets are casual events. Whomever is off from work or is easiest able to get to the Bronx, goes to the games, simple as that. But playoffs, oh there is nothing quite like postseason baseball. My mom and I, decked out in pinstripes, got the the stadium and, as usual, started our evening with celebratory drinks (as any Yankees fan knows, you'll never get up to the bar in the Tommy Bahamas lounge twice, so make sure you make use of the two-drinks-per-ID rule! We did.)

Our postseason seats this year are in section 105, three rows from the field. Essentially, we had an incredible few of right fielder Nick Swisher and all of his antics all night long. The electric atmosphere throughout the stadium was expected as the American League East Champions finally returned home to claim their home field advantage that they'll maintain throughout the postseason. The game started in incredible fashion as the entire Yankees team ALDS roster and regular season roster was announced. The spotlight was completely hijacked when Mariano Rivera, the greatest closer in the game who suffered a season ending injury early in the season was announced. The stadium errupted at Mo took the field first for the introductions and then as "Enter Sandman" started playing. Mo took the field and threw out the ceremonial first pitch decked out head to toe in his uniform. God, was it great to see him on that pound again even if only for a minute.

As the game progressed, it seemed that the story of the night would be the pitching duel. Hiroki Kuroda was on the mound for the Bombers and rookie Miguel Gonzalez for Orioles. Both pitchers gave stellar performances, each team allowed only seven hits over a tumultuous 12 innings. In the third inning Ryan Flaherty connected with Kuroda's pitch and sent the ball not only over the wall, but a row in front of me. It actually bounced off a woman's head (she was fine,) ended up a few seats to the right, and was finally tossed back to Swisher - because who wants that bad luck ball after all?

Anyway, fast forward to the middle of the ninth inning. The Yankees are down 2-1. Arod, the one time home run hitting superstar, has done NOTHING. I mean nothing. As in every-time-he-comes-to-bat-the-stadium-boos-louder-than-they-do-when-Buck-Showalter-comes-to-the-mound nothing. Throughout the series Yankee fans have been begging for Arod to be moved down in the order, but no such luck. Enter Joe Girardi's gut instinct. The Yankees skipper pulled Arod, who was DHing last night, and put in the ever clutch Raul Ibanez. Raul steps up and KILLS the ball, sending it propelling over the center field wall and sending the game to extra innings. All was quiet in the eleventh as batter after batter came up and was sent down. Then came the bottom of the twelfth. When Ibanez came up for a second time, no one could help the 'what ifs.' Before his first at bat I had looked at the woman next to me and said, "I'm so happy he's in!" She responded, "I think everyone here is!" BOOM Home run. So, being the superstitious sports fan I am, I thought, "Let's do everything like last time." So we did. The woman next to me and I had the same conversation, we turned to Raul, and with a swing of the bat the ball came soaring in our direction, for a split second I thought I'd be able to catch that historic ball, but it flew over our heads to the upper deck. GONE. RAUUUUUUL!!! Just as we had after the game tying, we went absolutely wild! The whole stadium was jumping up and down, hugging one another, high fiving anyone and everyone we could reach. My mom celebrated so hard she somehow banged her leg and is left with a nasty bruise on her upper thigh, but it was all worth it. The Yankees win, theeeeeeeeeeeee Yankees win!

What a night. What a win. What an incredible decision by Girardi. What amazing at bats for Raul Ibanez. And, probably most shocking of all, what poise and professionalism by the once completely childish Alex Rodriguez. He was not only the first to congratulate Raul after both home runs, but he also gave impressive interviews afterwards preaching nothing but the importance of a team win and admitting that a younger version of himself probably wouldn't have reacted so maturely. Here's to Joe, Raul, the great captain, Derek Jeter, and the road to a 28th World Series Championship.

Mission 28

2012-10-09T16:16:00.003-07:00

American League East Division Champs. God that has a great ring to hit, don't you think? The twenty-seven time (I love saying that,) World Series Champs started their postseason run this past Sunday against division 'rivals' the Baltimore Orioles. Now, yes there was a fantastic pennant race this year, but it still makes me chuckle to think that the Orioles had a legitimate shot at winning the division and that they are a valid hurdle in the Yankees chase for a 28th ring, or more importantly, Jeter's sixth. Game was a total blow out. The Yankees bats came out in full force and C.C. Sabathia walked away a winner with a final score of 7-2. Last night was a bit of a different story. Yankee legend, Andy Pettitte took the mound, and at his age and experience level, you really can't complain about the outing. Pettitte gave up three runs on seven hits in 7 1/3 innings. Realistically, the Yanks are home run hitters, if home runs aren't hit, games will not be won. It's as simple as that. Men were left on base almost every inning. Mark Teixeira is practically the new Jorge Posada post injury now when he runs the bases. Derek Jeter made an error (yes, you read that right, Mr. Wonderful straight up fucked up.) But somehow, with all of the fielding screw ups, only three little, annoying, orange birds crossed the plate. Tomorrow, the series comes back to the Bronx (and yours truly will be in attendance!) Let's hope actual home field advantage, a day off, and a stadium full of Bombers faithful will lift the spirits and that the wind carries those balls long, high, and GONE! The road to 28 is only 10 wins long, let's go!

Jet-lagged

2012-10-09T15:54:00.001-07:00

The New York Jets are quite possibly the hardest sports franchise to write about with the most available material. Of course, the story of the season is the Son of Christ himself, Tim Tebow, playing nice as the back up to fourth year starter and perennial mediocre quarterback, Mark Sanchez. Now, you may remember those happy years following Sanchez's fifth overall selection in the 2009 NFL draft. The years when the defense was at the top of the league, when the 'ground and pound' offensive was utilized instead of talked about and it actually worked, and when, by the graces of god, the New York Jets appeared in the AFC Championship game in back to back years. Flash forward two years and these, my friends, are the dark ages. Although, most ages for the Jets are dark ages. Any seasons without the names Namath or Chrebet on the roster, are most likely doomed for failure. This season, even though only five weeks have come and passed, is one of those seasons. Week in and week out Gang Green faithful prepare for inevitable heartache, even the wins feel like losses.

Last night, the undefeated Houston Texans came to the Meadowlands for, as Tebow pointed out, the 666th Monday Night Football game. Previously, the Texans had never beaten the Jets, but their 4-0 start and best roster they've ever carried were out to prove themselves. Led by easily the greatest running back in the game today, Arian Foster, the Texans were heavily favored especially with the Jets coming off a 34-0 disastrous loss at home at the hands of the San Francisco 49ers.

Surprisingly, last night's contest was so close, that with four minutes remaining, Jets fans actually had hope. Sanchez, inevitably, threw the ball away to end the final drive and hand Houston their 5th straight win. A final score of 23-17 was nothing for the Jets to pout over, though. Sure, the name JJ Watt will forever send a chill down our spin. Houston's sophomore defensive end sacked Sanchez (he has 8.5 on the season) had six tackles, and three tipped passes including one on the last play of the game that sent hopes of a hail mary miracle to the ground with the ball.

While Sanchez will take the majority of the blame, and calls for 'Tebow Time' will echo from rooftops all over Manhattan, the Jets' biggest problem is simple: they do not have a receiving core. I'm not talking, Santonio Holmes is hurt so the other guys can't step up, I'm talking Holmes out for the season, rookie Steven Hill out since week 1, and Dustin Keller, although a tight end, has emerged as Sanchez's favorite target over their years together has yet to play a game. This leaves available options at Jeremy Kerley, Chaz Schilens, Clyde Gates, and Jeff Cumberland at tight end. Unless you're a die hard fan, none of those names mean anything to you and that probably has some sort of correlation with their skill level. Face it, you've heard of the guys who are good because, well, they catch the damn ball. Kerley has been a decent number two, but in Sanchez's eyes he's always ranked behind Keller, and his acceptability on the wide receiver core is often overshadowed by his multitude of missteps while on special teams.

At the season's start when Chad Johnson (Ochocinco, whatever the hell his name is these days) was cut by the Dolphins for headbutting his ~~wife~~ ex-wife, many in New York expected him to at least be brought in to work out. Sad that the Jets receiving core was thought to be weak before the injuries to Holmes, Hill, and Keller. Aside from Ocho, Terrell Owens returned to the NFL this season. TO was signed to the Seahawks for about... five minutes (three weeks,) and has since been promoting himself, swearing he still has some of the old (very, very old) TO left in him. Following last night's demise, the wide receiver turned reality star turned wide receiver again tweeted:

Desperate plea? Maybe. But hey, the Jets' locker room is full of headcases as it is, and once upon a time the man was a legend, maybe Woody Johnson, Mike Tannenbaum, anybody left in that front office with a glimmer of a chance to win should give the man a shot! I'm just saying, the offseason was a complete and utter failure, maybe some old blood is exactly what this team needs. If nothing else, it'll keep them on the back page of the Post.

Here We Go Again

2012-10-09T12:48:00.002-07:00

So you've made it here, I suppose a thank you is in order. My loyal followers know that my blogging history has gone through many twists, turns, and transformations in the past, and yet, we meet again. I'm a writer, by craft and nature, but life's inevitable shifts seem to have a habit of pulling me away from my first love. Many of my blogging ventures in the past were brought about by the thought that as a journalism student, I was wasting my time, talent, and ungodly amount of articles by not having a blogosphere to post them in. This time, it's different. I now have a degree and a job (!!!!!!) and while my career path has deviated slightly from my editorial goal, I find that it's essential that I keep myself writing. After all, as a self-proclaimed Twitterholic, there's only so much I can express in 140 characters, (hence the obscenely high tweet count.)

I'm hoping, that my return to blogging will take us (now that you're here, you're along for the ride,) through this odd transitional time, which I call the 'in between.' The in between college and actual adult life. The time of first jobs, first real responsibilities, and hopefully soon, first apartments. This awkward period of time when you figure out where you want you life to go and who you want by your side in the trenches. There are no more cute boys to meet in class and no more classes to take to 'explore your interests.' This is cold, hard, brutal, real life and it's time to sack up and move away from home.

If you know me at all, you know that I have this compulsive obsession with everything sports. I'm the girls who can recite stats no one should remember, has incredible parents who shower her with Yankees and Jets season tickets so she can get you by public transportation to the Bronx or the Meadowlands, and that would never, ever, ever be caught dead in one of those tacky, bedazzled, pink jerseys. EVER. Sports are my love and now, my job. I spend hours watching SportsCenter, reading sports beats, and following every possible sports source on Twitter.

On the complete other side of the spectrum comes my love for fashion. Before I realized that I could make a career out of my tomboyish tendencies, I aspired to work in the glitz and glamour of the fashion industry. I spent much of my childhood collecting and studying every issue of Vogue and seriously dreamed of being among the likes of Anna Wintour and Carine Roitfeld. While, my career ambition has taken a shift, my passion for the fashion world has never wavered. I may no longer obsess over each and every fashion show each season from New York, Milan, Paris, and London, but I still keep an eye on my favorite labels and try to incorporate key pieces into my daily life. My parents never shy away from joking that I may never move out, but at least I will have the latest, greatest clothes, shoes, and accessories.

As we are currently in the depths of the [second] best sports time of the year, (the best obviously being Superbowl/NFL Draft/start of MLB/NBA and NHL playoff time,) I figured this was the perfect opportunity to get back on the blogging bandwagon. With a multitude of material thanks to the Yankees in the postseason, and well, the train wreck that is the New York Jets, I've decided to rededicate myself. I apologize for the obscene length of this primary entry and hope that the majority of my rants moving forward will be much less self-obsessed and way quicker reads. Don't hesitate to leave a comment for holler at me on Twitter, I love the attention.

From the trenches,
Ashley