“Hey, have you seen The Wire? No? It’s the best show ever.”
If you’ve ever debated the best shows on television, you’ve probably had some iteration of this conversation. And you know what, that person was right: The Wire was the best show on television. While titles like Breaking Bad and The Sopranos may be popping into your head, the fervent devotees are quick to note the series that depicts an unflinching portrait of Baltimore is undeniably the best. I’d argue its construction is the closest anyone has come to putting a novel on television.
Now, unpopular opinion alert: Orange is the New Black just stood atop a cafeteria table and silently declared itself the best show currently on “television.” It did so by following the blueprint laid out by The Wire.
We made it.
Another season of professional football has arrived and with it, another year of the The Hypothetical SuperContest. Oh man, it feels good to be back. Last night, the Patriots and Steelers rang in the gambling new year, with Pittsburgh completing an unbelievable backdoor push that did not go unnoticed by the great Al Michaels.
If you’re new here, there’s a good chance that you didn’t understand any parts of that previous sentence other than “Patriots,” “Steelers” and “the great Al Michaels.” No worries mate, you will soon. In the mean time… Read More
Ryan Fitz is my name, and I drove on the Houston train.
‘Til Mallett’s cavalry came and tore up the depth chart again.
In the summer of ’15, we were Gang Green, just barely alive.
By June 10th, Brady had fell. It’s a time I remember oh so well.
I was up until 7 am this morning. I slept for two hours, then I got back up and continued working. I was building a machine, ideally capable of unlocking the greatest of life’s mysteries: The NCAA Bracket.
I love college basketball. I love March Madness. But more than either of those I love brackets, and the futile chase for perfection that they represent. For the past two years, this March Madness of mine has driven me to create my own sort of Frankenstein’s monster: a bracket of brackets to determine which bracket I enter into my friendly neighborhood bracket pool. Does this sound convoluted to you? Does it seem like a waste of time? Well then turn around now, because we’re about to turn the convolution up to 11.
Merry Christmas and happy holidays to you and yours. Josh Smith received a most pleasant Christmas gift in being cut by Detroit only to end up in Houston next to former AAU teammate Dwight Howard and the rest of the gunning Rockets. Skeptics attribute Smith’s exit to playing out of his comfort zone and generally treating the rim with disdain, to which he says, “Whatever.” Elsewhere, the NBA Christmas Day slate proved to be underwhelming, and some guy on Twitter drove 50 minutes to defend Russell Westbrook, or what’s left of Kobe’s honor, or something.
This is lame but works really well for the narrative so just roll with me here.
Last week I spoke of the importance of finishing strong. This was of course, after putting off publishing my picks until mere minutes before kickoff on Sunday, and relying on an admittedly less-than-great gimmick of embedding my tweets within the article.
You can knock the execution, but not the results. I went 4-1 in my Week 14 picks, and could’ve gone 5-0 for the second time this season if I had only remembered how evil Evil Peyton Manning could truly be. There was an entire week of national coverage dedicated to how Manning was unable to play in the snow, so of course Evil Peyton Manning would be looking to slaughter the Titans last Sunday. And he did. And I should have known that he would.
But in this anecdote lies one more real-life lesson I want to express through this Hypothetical column: Don’t let your mistakes get you down.
It’s been a big week for me. OutKast is reuniting. The video for “Bound 2” was released. And, as you can see above, I got a retweet from ESPN. It was amazingly exciting, with RTs and favorites pouring into my feed like never before. There were 7.5 million strangers out there in the world following ESPN who could potentially be reading a joke I had carefully groomed to come in at less than 140 characters. I gained 32 new followers and have only lost one of them since. I even got some replies from Giants fans who wanted to yell at me. I decided that I might try to capitalize on this moment of attention, sending one more tweet to ESPN. Read More
We see you on Twitter. Come see us.
Now that I have your attention with a ridiculous picture of a large stuffed bear on a computer, it is our duty to inform you that we are on Twitter @tueswithhorry. We wanted to go for the whole thing, but apparently handles have to be less than 140 characters. Who would’ve thought? Anywho, if you enjoy what we do and/or like any of the people who have ever even considered contributing to this experiment, following us couldn’t hurt. We don’t spam, we don’t get (too) self-indulgent and we are all about the follow-back game. Every now and then, we might hit you with a petition to the White House, but last time we checked, this is the United States of America. Freedom isn’t free. Somebody’s gotta do the heavy lifting, and it might as well be Big Shot Rob, or at least the blog named after him. Happy posting in <141 characters, everyone.
Many Saturdays ago (because I’m horrible at timely blog posts), Rory and I decided to take advantage of the great weather and venture forth into the greatest city in the world. Living in New York means that you’re never at a loss for something to do, so we hit up the Twitter Machine to see what adventure our day could be, and BOOM.
Intrigued, we set off to Tompkins Square Park for what would prove to be an afternoon of pure bliss. We walked into the park to find . . . people doing tricks on Pogo sticks. I don’t know what I expected, but somehow, the absurdity of the afternoon swept me up, and I was cheering my heart out for “Wacky Chad,” “the Man Child,” and some kid whose name I can’t remember but was never mentioned without also mentioning that he was “all the way from Saint Petersburg, Russia!” I’ve never been one for “X-TREME” sports (I prefer the slow, steady rhythm of a baseball game), but I was completely fascinated watching these young men who clearly trained for and were passionate about X-Pogo.
After the “Big Air” qualifiers, it was time to break some world records. Yes, we actually watched people break world records. Try it sometime. Even if it’s something as ridiculous as ten guys on pogo sticks doing a backflip at the same time, there’s nothing quite like the feeling of watching something that’s never been done before.
I didn’t feel qualified to write about this unless I tried pogo-ing myself, so I tried it. Note: It is very difficult, I was not very good, and I sustained some large bruises in strange places. But anyway, since the internet is an asker, and I’m a giver, here is a picture of me on a pogo stick: