Busted makes me feel good

(Attractive girls don't get enough recognition on the Internet.)

By ART MCGREGOR
Blog on the Run editor

Lighting up a cigarette. Just had my favorite blog moment.

A few weeks back I got an e-mail from someone about a link to my site on the blog Busted Coverage. Busted Coverage is one of the nation's best/most well-read sports/chicks blogs. Somewhere there's a rule about using two slashes in a single sentence. I break the rules. They break real stories. It's a legit blog without a "blogspot" or "typepad" in the URL. That's the true marker of a quality information source. Also Wikipedia. I usually end all google searches with Wiki except I keep the w lowercase. I have started to end the reading of all fortune cookies with "wiki" as well. "You will accomplish great things today ... wiki."

I asked the e-mailer "Joe" if he did any work for Busted Coverage. He responded, "I am Busted Coverage."

We exchanged a couple e-mails on why we blog, our backgrounds and whether or not he also eats peanut butter sandwiches with just one slice of bread and only uses JIF creamy peanut butter.

On Saturday morning, he posted this message on his blog:

"This is probably a disservice to this particular blogger. A Saturday morning praising isn’t going to be seen by the masses.

But Art McGregor’s Blog On The Run put together a great, quick piece on the AFC/NFC Championships and it wouldn’t be very timely on Monday.

From Art: “One thing I know, Baltimore is the worst “good” team I ever have watched. Their entire game plan revolves around getting lucky on a couple long throws, running the ball for two yards, hoping the other team’s best player gets hurt, and having the other team fumble inside the 10-yard line more than one time each game.”

We admit it. There is a small blog crush going on between BC and BOTR.

If you haven’t checked out or even heard of Art, you will in 2009. The guy can flat out write and waxes about booze, bars, his unlucky run with the ladies and throws in some sports to keep it from getting gay.

Art is Ohio based and so is BC. It’s the Silicon Valley of bloggers with drinking problems."

I might, might mention this post more than once in 2009. Why do I blog? I blog totally for attention and recognition. I'm not getting paid. I don't want to win awards. I mainly just want to be able to leaf through Facebook, pick out a few girls and hook up with them because they know I spin a wicked tale on a blog read by 200 (or so) people a day. A slow-motion montage of this would feature Bone's "Thuggish Ruggish Bone" playing in the background.

(But I gotta get mine, so scream out mo' and let me hear you holla.)

Using "anyway" to wrap something up is a lazy tactic and I almost just used it to thank Joe for the note and to remind you guys to keep checking out Busted Coverage.

I actually didn't light up a cigarette and only smoke when drinking as an excuse to go outside and talk to girls. Thuggish ruggish activities.

Passin' me by

By ART MCGREGOR
Blog on the Run editor

I like the song "Heartache Tonight" because it reminds me of how a lot of nights end when they begin with a drink.

Tonight's a day where that will happen especially in large numbers. Other than St. Patrick's Day (on a Tuesday this year ... five-day weekend!) and New Year's Eve, there's not a night where more people are out "actin' the fool" as the kids in Dublin and Worthington say.

Tonight usually sucks, though. That's the thing. I prefer the night after Thanksgiving. I prefer the week around Christmas.

There's too many people out in the hours before turkeys go into the over. There's too many "pissed off looking" girls. Homies, what's the deal? Fucking smile. You're off work tomorrow. Tomorrow's a legit fun day. You made the choice to go out. You have to understand (by now) that there will be a lot, A LOT of guys out. If you're not totally disgusting, guys will notice you and think in their heads, "I want to fuck that chick." Some might act on the notion. Others (like me) will just stare uncomfortably. Deal with it or stay in. Have a "girls night" at someone's house. Why the fuck are you out if you're going to stand there looking pissed at the world? Go the fuck home. My hand. Your face.

There's too many chachie dudes. There's not enough people like Art McGregor, followers and staffers at the German Village Media Family of Networks because most people like us are married (by now) and in bed by 11 p.m.

I know I eschew "growing up" and refuse to admit that "things pass me by," but the night before Thanksgiving is something I'm getting too old for. Who's going to be out tonight? People younger than me and maybe that dude from "How I Met Your Mother."

I grew up in a town where everyone gets married by the time they turn 30. Half of me wonders if I'll self destruct when I turn 30. The other half will be self-destructing. The night before Thanksgiving offers nothing for me in Mahoning County. I'm not "feeling it." I used to have a cousin that bartended at the local-where-everyone-goes-out-bar but now he works in Las Vegas. I don't.

But I'll be out tonight.

Mascot Bevo

Here's the ad. It's the first time I've ever mentioned cars on this blog.



The last four seconds says, "saved by zero, saved by zero." I have no idea what that means. I don't have facial hair and look rugged and wear flannels hence I don't know anything about cars. I do have a somewhat good looking, manly chin.

So today I went to BDL and then The Little Bar. (Little bar, big enthusiasm.) And I'll talk more about that tomorrow but we saw the above commercial at least 600 times during the Browns game. Big win.

As you know, us three began adding words to the end of the ad-ver-tis-ment.

saved by zero, saved by zero:

"Don't wear speedos." - The Godfather
"Mascot Bevo." - The Godfather
"That's my creedo." - The 1
"Eating cheetohs." - All
"Garlic cheese-o." - Art McGregor

Obviously mine was the worst and we spent about 10 minutes doing this as the game carried on. First-letter-of-the-alphabet GREAT Sunday.

- From the desk of Art McGregor

... Cable Guy

(Hat tip, The 1)



- From the desk of Art McGregor

Fuckin' Catalina wine mixer

- Mentioned I saw the movie "Step Brothers" this weekend. Enjoyed it much. I didn't like "Talledaga Nights" or "Anchorman" but loved this movie. I think I laughed throughout the whole thing and might actually go see it again. I mean, when it's on HBO in a year or whatever, I'll watch it a bunch then.

I had an ICEE at the movie. Cherry. Large. They are still rocking the red-colored ICEE's at the Arena Grand. This is different than the Lennox, which has white-colored cherry. RAY-CISTS! Why do they do that?

Maybe it's because I haven't had a pop in awhile, but the ICEE was really strong. Like I had ICEE aftertaste for at least seven or eight hours. It's not a bad aftertaste. But it's just sort of different to go through a Saturday feeling like you're sucking down an ICEE for eight straight hours.

- Saw "21" yesterday. Liked it. Would recommend it but it was really a flimsy movie. There's so many things in it that you're like, "well, why is he doing that?" or "why are they giving demonstrative hidden symbols?" and so on and so forth. But it's entertaining and not a terrible way to spend 100 minutes. Kevin Spacey was good in it. No homo.

- Going to see DMB tomorrow night with The Godfather at Crew Stadium. We've got pretty good seats. I'm not a big DMB fan, but do like seven or eight of his songs and his concerts are always fun, because like the sound or not, DMB is a talented group of musicians. I hope he plays three songs and I'll be happy: "Eh Hee," "Seek Up" and "Crush."

Fingers crossed.

- From the desk of Art McGregor

INFIELD IN ON THE CORNERS!!!!!!

We struggled at softball on Thursday night. We fell 17-6 in a shortened five-inning game. This means we were "run ruled" and forced to quit. I only post quickly after the games when we win. I wait four days between losses.

I made two errors in my brief stint at first base and our shortstop, The Skipper, shouted for the mid-inning position change.

His 92-MPH rocket balls from his position against a glaring sun, had nothing to do with our problems at first base throughout the game. He seemed to take Thursday's game with more seriousness than any previous game. More serious than any player in the Eastern Men's Rec League history. Maybe he had a serious problem with DOA, the team that obliterated us with about 25 base hits in five innings. But good thing The Skipper ordered us to play infield in ... in a softball game ... with no outs and runners on first and third in the second inning of a 3-2 game. I don't know about that decision. I think you just go for the single out there considering the team we played had tons of tattoos and seriously hit every ball on a frozen rope. The Godfather noticed and commented on The Skipper's managerial style on the GVM post-game radio show.



The good thing about the position change was that I got to play in the outfield next to McCampus. I said this to our buddy, "I'd hate to play against you." The guy doesn't shut up in mocking the other team with chants of "nice BB!" and "way to watch those pitches go by and walk!" All were funny.

I did some good things with the bat, collecting another RBI and actually getting a hit to the outfield. Finished 1 for 2, with an RBI and run scored on this night. This is big news for a slappy hitter like myself. As you would imagine, I'd probably be a total wuss in fights and likely just try to slap the other person while cowering into a fetal position.

We're not playing this week but will have our last game on Thursday, July 31. That means the season stretched from April to August and we played nine games. What is this? Major League Lacrosse?

We're 2-5-1 now. We'd be contending in the National League West.

- From the desk of Art McGregor

Imagine

No run down from last night. Had a good time at the High Beck.

Have two great videos:

- Compiled by Art McGregor

I'm thinking D'Arby

Latest news on the homicide victim found last night in the German Village. I like the photo they're using in the story. From 1985.

I don't think Terence Trent D'Arby had anything to do with the death. But he did, for a short time, bring back the popularity of wishing wells. Presumably "to kiss and tell."

It'd be a real shame if the woman wasn't murdered at all and instead was just tossing a coin in the well hoping to live to the ripe ol' age of eighty deuce.

- From the desk of Art McGregor

The whistles go ... whoo whoo!

Can't go wrong with Red, White and Boom. Small red halter tops on redheads with back tats also are agreeable in this day and age. Patriotism knows no bounds and I'm always glad to see it held up with cloth that resembles fishing wire.

The FancyFest on Thursday night up in the Huntington Building didn't disappoint. Walking toward downtown and $4 beers, The Godfather got a call from McGinley and we met up with him to watch fireworks from 30-some floors above. Aside from a scant selection of beers, the 'ding had everything you could possibly want. 27-year-old dudes that looked 43, people that were genuinely interesting to talk to, tons of friendly people, attractive cougars and cougars in training, McGinley telling stories, easy to get free beers and free beers. The view of the fireworks was pretty decent, as well. I liked watching the moment,I'm talking one second after the grand finale, when everyone turned and headed east toward High Street. Cool to see a throng of people all move in that same direction at once.

The Godfather wins MVP honors on the night. He led me to the free beers and also came along to the Arena District afterward. He denied McGinley's chants of "182" and allowed us to triple-fist Miller Lites at the Lodge Bar.

Lodge Bar was fun. I think we saw McCampus there for a second. Rainbow Brite, Headband, their other friend Moving to Cleveland and All Kinds of Awesome also were there.

All Kinds of Awesome was terrible. I call her All Kinds of Awesome because absolutely zero about her was awesome on Thursday night. Fun girl. Girl who is blatantly unfriendly, in a bad mood, can't wait to leave, thinks she looks 150 times better than she does, etc., etc., etc. Headband was with dude and we ended up staying there for about an hour, hour and a half.

Made it back to Youngstown on Friday. Huge family picnic. There were about 50 people there. I think I knew 17 of them. Everyone I know has kids between the ages of 0 and 13. Played the annual, requisite two-hours of basketball in the blazing heat. Really wasn't that bad. I was on the "old guy" team. I know. The fuck. A few other oldies didn't play and I was one of the five oldest guys playing, although I was the youngest by nine years. We should have got killed, as the other team had the one sweet black dude, my cousin Kevin who is like the energizer bunny and gets everyfuckingoffensiverebound, my cousin Patrick who's a junior in high school and dunks and this other dude Jason who is like 6'1'', 220 and got the offensive rebounds Kevin didn't. It was a half court game and that's not my style. I excel in the open court. Full-court games are my bread and butter. Though I don't like butter on bread. Odd.

Did what I do. Yes, this is a post about driveway basketball. Pick and rolled to 20-footers, got one rebound in two-solid hours of hoops, made a number of good passes, had a bunch of steals and yelled out "assist" on every one of my assists. We won two of the three games. It was awesome.

My dad showed up a bit later and left his golf shoes on the whole time. Ended up hanging out with my cousins Kevin and Brendan until about 3 a.m. that night. Great time. Watched this video about 40 times:



41 times.

Booze and fireworks at McCampus' bash on Saturday night. Always a safe mix. McCampus and crew can throw a party. Great times all around and the usual cast of O'Bannons and their non-talkative wives. Enjoyed myself there for about three hours before heading to 185 until closing time. I am sure The Godfather will have a report on that over at GVM sometime today. His text from last night:

I just wish someone would come along and tell me how great girls from GSG are. Even though none are going to Harvard.

Since closing time happened too early, apparently, I kept on boozing until about sunrise. Woke up at 2 p.m. on Sunday and have absolutely nothing to report from there on out.

I enjoy the weekends.

- Compiled by Art McGregor

A big, a big hot sun

People are stupid.

The sun is in the northeast corner of the Columbus sky around 9:02 a.m. It's basically in the Youngstown of the big blue. God knows the sun never shines in Youngstown. Seriously, God knows. He's the one who created the sun and such.

So let's say you're driving due north on a busy two-lane commercial road. Speed limit is 45 miles per hour. Those people with little man's disease (cops) are notorious f.o.r hanging out there and issuing speeding tickets. Most people go about 50 or 51 MPH.

The fuck is someone doing walking RIGHT AGAINST THE SIDE OF THE ROAD about two inches from oncoming traffic? Trying to smell the coffee-breath of those passing by? Hoping for a one-second hand job?!? Unless you have a death wish, how about walking a few, oh I don't know, feet from the passing cars? The guy probably walked at least a mile and endured 11 or 12 near death experiences. His blatant "it's legal but fucking retarded to walk here" resulted in 11 or 12 left-of-center violations.

People, people, people.

Well, they got me to July. I know I've called the season over before. I know other people have too. Well, this is really it. The Pure Suck Tribe is 10.5 games out with about 80 games to go. It's over. Not even I will watch them every night. I likely won't watch another game from first pitch to final out. How Andy Marte and Jeremy Sowers are on a major league roster is beyond me and probably everyone else in baseball, except for the Indians front office. In the past seven months, I've announced the Indians to have four games in which they have a zero percent chance of winning: Game 7 of the ALCS, a Wednesday afternoon home game in May against the White Sox, a Thursday night game in June at Colorado and last night's 9-7 loss to Chicago (beating was far worse than the score indicated). They're 0-4 in those games. One good note from last night? Jim Thome officially passed Rasheed Wallace as No. 2 on my all-time least favorite athlete list. The list?

1. Michael Jordan
2. Jim Thome
3. Rasheed Wallace

When you add those in the industry, the list grows to include Art Modell, Markie Shy-pie-row and Eric Ass Wedge.

The gap between the top three athletes and the rest is so great that I don't even care to continue with the list.

The Truth texted me last night about heading to "the Club." I stayed in most of the night save for some time I dilly-dallied around Schiller Park. It may not rain today. That's unreal.

It's also July 1. The year is about half over.

The Tribe's season? That's all over.

- Compiled by Art McGregor

Conked republic

By ART MCGREGOR
Blog on the Run editor

In a roundabout way, there's been quite a bit of news centering around a couple of Key West's finest. Though, I guess if you have a familiarity of any area and you read a lot of news stories, you'll always be able to draw connections between certain stories and a certain place. There's always a connection if you look hard enough. But if you tell a girl you "feel a connection" then there's no chance there's a connection.

About 10 days or so ago, former Key West High School catcher Ralphie Henriquez Jr. was on the opposite end of this semi-infamous YouTube sensation and SportsCenter clip:



Ralphie was Key West baseball in 2005.

When Key West hits the road, the team doesn’t travel alone. Up to four busloads of parents and fans travel hundreds or even more than 1,000 miles to games, all of which are broadcast live on a 5,000-watt AM radio station.

“It’s like a freaking band of gypsies,” a veteran Florida area scout said. “I’ll never forget when they piled off a bunch of buses in Orlando and the parents there were staring, like ‘What planet are these people from?’ Yeah, they love their baseball.”

Key West went on to win the state title that year. I broke my leg jumping over a fence following the state semifinal victory. After following them all season, all the way to Sarasota, I missed the state championship game. I liked that squad but Ralphie was the most different. Coach's son in a place where only in D.C. are politics practiced more often. I'd say a majority of people - even his teammates - disliked him. He eventually became a second-round draft pick a couple weeks after that state title game but hasn't done much. He's struggled and is still playing split-season A ball in his fourth professional season. The guy picked right after him? Kyle Slowey. He pitched a three-hit shutout yesterday to lead the Minnesota Twins to a win over the Milwaukee Brewers. Not exactly the Brooklyn Cyclones. (NOTE: On his stats, I think it's funny that they combined his dad's stats with his own. That's something me and my dad will never have to worry about ... unless it's a "Miller Lites consumed" stat.)

So when I told The Sports Writer about the video, he laughed and said, "only Ralphie."

The publisher of the paper in Key West was John Cooke. It was Jack Kent Cooke's son. JKC owned the Redskins until his death in 1997. Can't really own a team when you're dead. The decision making aspect, yeah, that is no more when your time has expired. Fucking biology. The son was a pretty nice guy. He was very hands off - at least with the sports department. He had an office in our newsroom and I had maybe five to six meetings with him in the course of two years. I remember he wanted there to be more outdoors coverage. Eh. I probably didn't listen.

Anyway, JKC's daughter ... he had her when we was 74 ... PIMP (!!) ... is 20 years old now. Her name is Jacqueline Kent Cooke. She's pretty hot.

(Then and now.)

I never saw her in the newsroom. Then or now. Damnit to hell. Anyway, she ran into some problems with the law over the weekend in Boston.

The pair returned to the car 10 minutes later and told the officers that it was useless for them to keep watching because they could not stop them from driving home, police said. The officers again suggested a taxi.

Didn't work out well. I think the mug shot tells the story. She does look kind of "dirty hot" in it.

(DSLs)

So Henriquez takes his cuts and walks away. Pissed off, but you know, doesn't really do anything stupid. Maybe Jackie Cooke could have taken some cues from the fella a year her elder.