Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Monday, January 4, 2010
Get Well-ker Soon
I live in New York and I'm extremely lazy - especially when it's 19 degrees out on my days off. This means if I can't catch the Patriot game online somewhere, I'm usually out of luck on Sunday afternoons when they don't make the national TV airing schedule. Sunday was one of those days. It was made all the worse when I heard during the Dolphins game that my Wes Welker was hurt. Hurt badly and carried off the field. I didn't have any facts yet, but I swore if that Bernard Pollard was in any way involved, it would be vaffles for him!
VAFFLES!
But as I finally saw the footage, it looks like Welker's leg just took an awkward twist. Ugh. Just one of those things. I caught the end of the game. Tom Brady throwing interceptions, our defense being all non existent, another away loss. Sigh. The Patriots have just been all too human this year, miles away from perfection. The spirit and heart of champions still pulse through them, but they're tired, hurt, old. Really, the last vestige of my magical team was Wes Welker's quick feet, his ability to be every and anywhere. If Brady could get the pass in the air, Welker would find a way to bring it down and move the chains. "He's not human!" I would cry week after week watching him do what he does in winning efforts and losing ones. But, alas, he is human. And he's hurt.
And an entire region of Patriots fans are hurt with him.
VAFFLES!
But as I finally saw the footage, it looks like Welker's leg just took an awkward twist. Ugh. Just one of those things. I caught the end of the game. Tom Brady throwing interceptions, our defense being all non existent, another away loss. Sigh. The Patriots have just been all too human this year, miles away from perfection. The spirit and heart of champions still pulse through them, but they're tired, hurt, old. Really, the last vestige of my magical team was Wes Welker's quick feet, his ability to be every and anywhere. If Brady could get the pass in the air, Welker would find a way to bring it down and move the chains. "He's not human!" I would cry week after week watching him do what he does in winning efforts and losing ones. But, alas, he is human. And he's hurt.
And an entire region of Patriots fans are hurt with him.
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Playoff bound Pats!
I haven't blogged in a spell, not that I'm not still the 452nd biggest Patriots fan in all the world! But this season I've also become a fan of the game itself! The Monday Night Packers/Vikings matchup at Lambeau was epic! I think I finally officially understand what the pocket is supposed to be after watching the Vikings offensive line protect Favre for, what felt like, hours! Watching the Saints go through defenses like a warm knife through butter was kinda hella damn impressive. However, when the Patriots are the butter and you run a Patriots fan site, well, you see the conundrum.
One of the worst moments of the season was the loss in Miami. The look on Tom Brady's face on the sidelines was heartbreaking. Sure, he was in physical pain, but the emotional toll of blowing the halftime lead, ending the game by throwing an interception, and racking up the first consecutive loss in forever, well, I wanted to give him a hug.
Then the announcer said "and with the fifth loss of the season, the Patriots fall to mediocre."
I was so sad.
And then I panicked. We play the Bills away! Jacksonville is tough! The Jets and the Dolphins are only a game behind! Articles started predicted New England wouldn't clinch the East. I believed them. I settled into "there's always next year" and began to root for more Chiefs losses since New England gets their draft picks next year. We'll get us some cornerbacks! That'll show 'em! But my boys came back. Sure, the win in Buffalo was shaky. That Buffalo recovered the damn on-side kick made my stomach turn. Oh, thank God that the Bills are ever the Bills! But Sunday, at home, against the Jags, they were running like a well freaking oiled machine of awesome! Is Wes Welker even human?? Who cares! He's ours! All ours! After the third hookup, I renamed touchdowns "Bradytomosses" Rolls right off the tongue!
As I said in the post about the Indianapolis game, I love the heart and sheer fearlessness of my team. Oh, speaking of the chickenshit, bland, lame-o Colts, I hope New England road to the Superbowl goes through Lucas. We will light their asses up and leave stupid face Manning and his coward coaching staff right where they belong come Superbowl Sunday: home watching the Pats roll to number 4 on TV!
And that's not just because I'm terrified of Rivers and San Diego. No, it's cause the Colts are bitches. Yeah, I said. And they need to be put down as such. Okay, and cause I'm terrified of San Diego.
The Patriots may not be the best team in the NFL this year. Heck, they're not even the best team in the AFC. But they have the most heart, the most experience in the post season and I'd put my squad up against any other post season squad and like our chances.
Let's go Pats, let's do it again!!
One of the worst moments of the season was the loss in Miami. The look on Tom Brady's face on the sidelines was heartbreaking. Sure, he was in physical pain, but the emotional toll of blowing the halftime lead, ending the game by throwing an interception, and racking up the first consecutive loss in forever, well, I wanted to give him a hug.
Then the announcer said "and with the fifth loss of the season, the Patriots fall to mediocre."
I was so sad.
And then I panicked. We play the Bills away! Jacksonville is tough! The Jets and the Dolphins are only a game behind! Articles started predicted New England wouldn't clinch the East. I believed them. I settled into "there's always next year" and began to root for more Chiefs losses since New England gets their draft picks next year. We'll get us some cornerbacks! That'll show 'em! But my boys came back. Sure, the win in Buffalo was shaky. That Buffalo recovered the damn on-side kick made my stomach turn. Oh, thank God that the Bills are ever the Bills! But Sunday, at home, against the Jags, they were running like a well freaking oiled machine of awesome! Is Wes Welker even human?? Who cares! He's ours! All ours! After the third hookup, I renamed touchdowns "Bradytomosses" Rolls right off the tongue!
As I said in the post about the Indianapolis game, I love the heart and sheer fearlessness of my team. Oh, speaking of the chickenshit, bland, lame-o Colts, I hope New England road to the Superbowl goes through Lucas. We will light their asses up and leave stupid face Manning and his coward coaching staff right where they belong come Superbowl Sunday: home watching the Pats roll to number 4 on TV!
And that's not just because I'm terrified of Rivers and San Diego. No, it's cause the Colts are bitches. Yeah, I said. And they need to be put down as such. Okay, and cause I'm terrified of San Diego.
The Patriots may not be the best team in the NFL this year. Heck, they're not even the best team in the AFC. But they have the most heart, the most experience in the post season and I'd put my squad up against any other post season squad and like our chances.
Let's go Pats, let's do it again!!
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Patriots in Indiana
This will be the third most delicious win of the season. After Saints and Jets, of course.
In Tully Banta-Cain and Vince Wilfork I trust!
GO RIOTS. BREAK THAT MANNING IN HALF.
In Tully Banta-Cain and Vince Wilfork I trust!
GO RIOTS. BREAK THAT MANNING IN HALF.
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Live blogging Pats-Fish
Did you hear the screams of agony? Then you know, Brady was just intercepted.
Oy.
We have them at 3rd and 10 and let them get a first down? Ugh. Where's that snowstorm I ordered?
YEEEEAAHHHHH, BUUDDDYYY! TOUCHDOWN NEW ENGLAND!
Lemon. Live by the Tuck rule, die by the Tuck rule.
Well, my mother went and ruined my whole liveblogging attempt. I barely got to watch the game on DVR delay by the time it ended...but WHEW!!
As the guy from the Patridge Family said: "what was I so afraid of!"
I loved how Brady kept letting Moss make up for getting beat for the INT on New England's first drive. That's love between those two!
Oh, and I'm totally feeling the ACHT-CHUNG chants!
And according to Patriots Insider, the Scorboard put up Joey Porter's stats after the game: ZERO TACKLES, ZERO SACKS. Which sounds about right for a big fat ZERO!
Not in our house.
Back to South New York for you looooo-zers.
Oy.
We have them at 3rd and 10 and let them get a first down? Ugh. Where's that snowstorm I ordered?
YEEEEAAHHHHH, BUUDDDYYY! TOUCHDOWN NEW ENGLAND!
Lemon. Live by the Tuck rule, die by the Tuck rule.
Well, my mother went and ruined my whole liveblogging attempt. I barely got to watch the game on DVR delay by the time it ended...but WHEW!!
As the guy from the Patridge Family said: "what was I so afraid of!"
I loved how Brady kept letting Moss make up for getting beat for the INT on New England's first drive. That's love between those two!
Oh, and I'm totally feeling the ACHT-CHUNG chants!
And according to Patriots Insider, the Scorboard put up Joey Porter's stats after the game: ZERO TACKLES, ZERO SACKS. Which sounds about right for a big fat ZERO!
Not in our house.
Back to South New York for you looooo-zers.
Saturday, November 7, 2009
Guts and Glory
This post belongs on either my poker blog or my football blog. However, I make poor decisions, as you are about to see. Plus, I like to take my once a year shot at making a convert to poker and football out of Kaz, Tae and pearatty.
So, here we go. Hey! Stop that stopping reading. I see you.
Last night I was in a deepstack tournament in Atlantic City playing for a $14,000 first place prize. I had been catching cards AND playing well. Through nine hours, I amassed a fairly large amount of chips. I was winning at least two hands an orbit and doubling my stack every hour. This is how you win tournaments. However, even after 9 hours, there were still 60 people out of 260 left and we were 30 eliminations from making any money at all.
And then the Patriots game started. My poker concentration plummeted. But that's another story. This is the pertinent story: I am in the small blind (one of two forced bet positions.) Five people limp to me, so for a discount and a huge pot, I complete and match the Big Blind bet with T8.
The first of five community cards, the flop, are TdTh5d. I have trips, a really good hand, but a third diamond could hit at any minute and well, too bad for my trips. I am also the first to act, so I check: deferring my decision until I see what everyone else does. One guy puts out the minimum bet and everyone, except me, folds, I raise him huge. He thinks so long that I get to see the Patriots intercept Peyton Manning. Yay! I hear the old guy say "all-in." To be honest, I don't even know how many chips he has (that is a bad thing) I figure, based on how long he took that he has two diamonds and just decided to gamble.
I call and turn over my ten.
Brady is marching down the field.
I look away from the table, but my head snaps back when the table says "oooh."
He does not have a draw.
He has a hand.
QT.
My hand, much much better kicker.
Oh well.
The next two community cards are dealt. I lose.
"Does he have me covered? Am I out?"
I'm not out. But I have about a quarter of the amount of chips I started with. It's late. This is a devastating blow. Everyone at the table has me covered now...Patriots score!
Yay!
Ok, universe, I can accept busting as long as the Riots win this game.
The universe seems to think that's fair because the Colts go three and out, scoring NO points AND the Pats score AGAIN.
I make my peace with my choice and just starting shoving my chips in the middle, so I can go bust and watch the game.
Nope, everyone keeps folding to me and I get about half the chips I lost to the old man back from the rest of the table.
3 people bust by halftime.
I am 27 eliminations away from cashing. The Patriots are up by two touchdowns.
5 more bust.
Then 10.
Then another ten.
I am TWO away.
Colts score, but whatever. There's a shade over two minutes left in the game...
One more busts.
ONE more player and I cash in my first deepstack poker game EVER.
Holy crap.
AND THE PATRIOTS LEAD!
Uh oh...it's 4th and short. STILL MORE THAN 2 minutes left. 2:06. (Basically, if the Patriots can hold on to the ball unto 1:59, they can essentially kneel on the ball, run the clock and beat the Colts by six.)
Belichick and Brady have a decision to make.
They can kick the ball away (punt) to the Colts, play 2:06 minutes of defense. Or, they can try to hold on to the ball for 7 more seconds and seal the win.
I am out of my seat. A guy at a table across the room, yells:
"Don't worry sweetheart, the Patriots have won."
"SHUT UP. Don't jinx it," I yell back.
I sit back down, turn my back to the TV.
The dealer deals out the cards.
The first player to act, and aggressive player, who I haven't seen show down a hand yet, raises.
The next guy folds and then me.
I have pocket queens.
Aggressive guy has me covered. I am ONE away from cashing. I could risk it all right now and shove all my chips into the middle and let the cards fall where they may.
I turn around, Brady is back on the field. NO PUNTING!
The Patriots are going to go for it!
They need to hold the ball for SEVEN SECONDS!
6...5...4...
LEMON.
They miss.
But the play is under review...so...back to my decision...I call.
Dawn punts.
It folds to the Big Blind and he stands up and starts yelling at me because he can't see my chips.
I am now in a bad mood because I think the refs make a bad call against the Patriots and now the Colts have the stupid ball and now I have pocket queens and instead of putting it all on the line and going all-in, I just called and now everything in the universe is unfair and stupid.
"My chips are right in front of me! The FLOOR SET THEM (Cause she did after another guy complained he couldn't see them earlier), I am not even sitting in front of them because I'm watching the football game, so if you have a problem --"
He doesn't let me finish.
"---No, no...I'm sorry...you're right, you're fine...I'm just thinking...okay, I call."
I have him covered, but the raiser has us both covered.
Three of us are in this final hand right before the last person busts without any money. Number one loser.
The community cards are 7 5 2.
The Big Blind, yelly guy, checks.
Raiser bets about half my stack.
This is the problem with punting. I still don't know what to do now. I fold.
Big Blind also folds.
Colts score with 21 seconds left.
Someone else busts out.
Patriots lose, I cash.
But the Patriots went for it. My favorite headline screamed "All Guts, no Glory," across a picture of Belichick's face.
I, on the other hand, played scared. No guts, fiery shame. Money in my pocket.
So, here we go. Hey! Stop that stopping reading. I see you.
Last night I was in a deepstack tournament in Atlantic City playing for a $14,000 first place prize. I had been catching cards AND playing well. Through nine hours, I amassed a fairly large amount of chips. I was winning at least two hands an orbit and doubling my stack every hour. This is how you win tournaments. However, even after 9 hours, there were still 60 people out of 260 left and we were 30 eliminations from making any money at all.
And then the Patriots game started. My poker concentration plummeted. But that's another story. This is the pertinent story: I am in the small blind (one of two forced bet positions.) Five people limp to me, so for a discount and a huge pot, I complete and match the Big Blind bet with T8.
The first of five community cards, the flop, are TdTh5d. I have trips, a really good hand, but a third diamond could hit at any minute and well, too bad for my trips. I am also the first to act, so I check: deferring my decision until I see what everyone else does. One guy puts out the minimum bet and everyone, except me, folds, I raise him huge. He thinks so long that I get to see the Patriots intercept Peyton Manning. Yay! I hear the old guy say "all-in." To be honest, I don't even know how many chips he has (that is a bad thing) I figure, based on how long he took that he has two diamonds and just decided to gamble.
I call and turn over my ten.
Brady is marching down the field.
I look away from the table, but my head snaps back when the table says "oooh."
He does not have a draw.
He has a hand.
QT.
My hand, much much better kicker.
Oh well.
The next two community cards are dealt. I lose.
"Does he have me covered? Am I out?"
I'm not out. But I have about a quarter of the amount of chips I started with. It's late. This is a devastating blow. Everyone at the table has me covered now...Patriots score!
Yay!
Ok, universe, I can accept busting as long as the Riots win this game.
The universe seems to think that's fair because the Colts go three and out, scoring NO points AND the Pats score AGAIN.
I make my peace with my choice and just starting shoving my chips in the middle, so I can go bust and watch the game.
Nope, everyone keeps folding to me and I get about half the chips I lost to the old man back from the rest of the table.
3 people bust by halftime.
I am 27 eliminations away from cashing. The Patriots are up by two touchdowns.
5 more bust.
Then 10.
Then another ten.
I am TWO away.
Colts score, but whatever. There's a shade over two minutes left in the game...
One more busts.
ONE more player and I cash in my first deepstack poker game EVER.
Holy crap.
AND THE PATRIOTS LEAD!
Uh oh...it's 4th and short. STILL MORE THAN 2 minutes left. 2:06. (Basically, if the Patriots can hold on to the ball unto 1:59, they can essentially kneel on the ball, run the clock and beat the Colts by six.)
Belichick and Brady have a decision to make.
They can kick the ball away (punt) to the Colts, play 2:06 minutes of defense. Or, they can try to hold on to the ball for 7 more seconds and seal the win.
I am out of my seat. A guy at a table across the room, yells:
"Don't worry sweetheart, the Patriots have won."
"SHUT UP. Don't jinx it," I yell back.
I sit back down, turn my back to the TV.
The dealer deals out the cards.
The first player to act, and aggressive player, who I haven't seen show down a hand yet, raises.
The next guy folds and then me.
I have pocket queens.
Aggressive guy has me covered. I am ONE away from cashing. I could risk it all right now and shove all my chips into the middle and let the cards fall where they may.
I turn around, Brady is back on the field. NO PUNTING!
The Patriots are going to go for it!
They need to hold the ball for SEVEN SECONDS!
6...5...4...
LEMON.
They miss.
But the play is under review...so...back to my decision...I call.
Dawn punts.
It folds to the Big Blind and he stands up and starts yelling at me because he can't see my chips.
I am now in a bad mood because I think the refs make a bad call against the Patriots and now the Colts have the stupid ball and now I have pocket queens and instead of putting it all on the line and going all-in, I just called and now everything in the universe is unfair and stupid.
"My chips are right in front of me! The FLOOR SET THEM (Cause she did after another guy complained he couldn't see them earlier), I am not even sitting in front of them because I'm watching the football game, so if you have a problem --"
He doesn't let me finish.
"---No, no...I'm sorry...you're right, you're fine...I'm just thinking...okay, I call."
I have him covered, but the raiser has us both covered.
Three of us are in this final hand right before the last person busts without any money. Number one loser.
The community cards are 7 5 2.
The Big Blind, yelly guy, checks.
Raiser bets about half my stack.
This is the problem with punting. I still don't know what to do now. I fold.
Big Blind also folds.
Colts score with 21 seconds left.
Someone else busts out.
Patriots lose, I cash.
But the Patriots went for it. My favorite headline screamed "All Guts, no Glory," across a picture of Belichick's face.
I, on the other hand, played scared. No guts, fiery shame. Money in my pocket.
Monday, October 26, 2009
Not so random thought
I'm scared of the Dolphins AND the Saints. Who wants to switch schedules with the Patriots for the second half of the season?
Anybody?
Bueller? Bueller?
Anybody?
Bueller? Bueller?
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