The “bye” week between the NFL Conference Championships and the Super Bowl is the driest period in the sports commentary year. You see that? Opening with a fundamentally incorrect statement is a tried-and-true method–popular among graduates of the Jay Mariotti Academy–to hook the reader. It’s tough on writers, because there are times of the year
Returning to the Skyline Chili Center in downtown Cincinnati for its fifth consecutive mid-January launch, it’s Marvin Lewis: The Musical! Featuring songs from that one Cincinnati artist who isn’t the Isley Brothers, this milquetoast, moderately violent play carries an inspirational message: you could change the world if Wild Card Weekend didn’t exist! Inspired by true
There once was a time when sportscasters and sportswriters could answer the important questions of the day, when these great men (of invariably identical pigmentation) could roll up their tweed jackets and get down to brass tacks, when they could finally–once and for all–put a pin in the yapping maw of the unassailable question: “Who’s
Good morning, and welcome to Tom Coughlin Airlines Flight #88. We recognize that you have a choice in airlines when you fly, and we want to thank you for choosing Tom Coughlin Airlines. We’ll begin boarding shortly for our on-time 10 AM departure. But first, a quick note of clarification. When we say that this
The running sports diary: a useful tool for conveying real in-game emotions in pseudo-real time. A running diary for the Super Bowl? Excellent choice. For the Wimbledon Final? Sure, why not. For an early-season NBA showdown between the 4-9 Sacramento Kings and the 6-6 Orlando Magic, two teams that are destined for mediocrity, or a plateau
The modern business world is an enigma, and it’s even harder to decrypt when people use convoluted sports metaphors to get their points across. What does it mean, for example, when your supervisor tells you that you’re “par for the course” in the most recent fiscal month, or when the analyst working under you says
Dear Younger Lucas, Listen, I get it. You’re one of probably 17 Toronto Blue Jays fans in Maine, and you’ve had a rough go of it recently. Everyone else is pumped about the Red Sox finally breaking the Curse. The Jays, foolishly, didn’t generate the budget room they needed to keep Carlos Delgado—the Puerto Rican
