To each their own, be a fan of whoever you want, but obviously youre not a fan of a team if you took a decade off from following them while they sucked.

I watched the Sox every summer for the past decade when they were trash and not even trying to win and I went to games still, so nah I don't quite understand it.

Exactly

Trae Young will be a bust. Book It!

The future holds the possibility to be great or terrible, and since it has not yet occurred it remains simultaneously both.

I wish Panarin could have put up with being in the playoffs :/

Sounds like a Cub fan from Iowa.

Guy would become invisible for the entire series. [/Don Cherry rant on why Russians fucking suck]

The future holds the possibility to be great or terrible, and since it has not yet occurred it remains simultaneously both.

- LOOK IVE' SAID IT ONCE AND I'LL SAY IT AGAIN. THESE LAH-DEE-DAH SOVIET PLAYERS,

- They're the Russians now.

- SOVIETS, RUSSIANS, ROOSKIES, WHATEVER, YA GET TO THE PLAYOFFS AND YA SEE IT EVERY TIME. MOGILNY. THE BURES. ZHAMNOV. SAMZANOV. AFNA, FINA, AFINAGOV. AN NOW PANERA. LIKE A MAGIC TRICK, POOF, INTA THIN AIR, EVERY SINGLE TIME EXCEPT FER THE ONES ON DETROIT.

- Well then I guess it's not every single time.

- WILL YOU JUST LET ME FINISH A THOUGHT HERE?

- I've been waiting for you to start one.

- MY POINT IS, THE RUSSIAN PEOPLE ARE SUPPOSED TO BE TOUGH! IT'S COLD LIKE IT IS HERE, YOU LOOK AT ALL THEY'VE BEEN THROUGH, YOU JUST WONDER WHY THEY CAN'T BE MORE TOUGH. YOU SHOW ME PANERA AND DAVE ANDREYCHUK AND YA ASK ME WHICH ONE'S PEOPLE SURVIVED FAMINES AND REVOLUTIONS TO BE HERE TODAY, I SAY ANDREYCHUK.

- So your point is that you'd be wrong.

- I'M JUST SAYING I KNOW WHO I'D GO TO WAR WITH IS ALL.

- There you have it, the fourth member of the Allied Powers, Don Cherry, with the Coach's Corner.

Didn’t FF swear off the Sox after the Machado debacle?

I’m pro bandwagon. My only caveat is bandwagon fans are not allowed to talk to shit to opposing fans. Leave that for the dieSox white fans.

ohnny Comelatelys that suddenly had a Hawks beanie and were out at the bars during the 2010 playoffs.

Agreed.
I like my teams, but when you know they are going to be garbage or stuck in Mediocre....it's hard to stay interested. I'd make it a point to attend one Sox game a summer with my kids....just to enjoy a day with them, but as Shakes said....it's a lot of money and a lot of time....too much else to do on a regular basis.

Bears games are an entirely different monster. There's only 16 games in a regular season. (8 home games). My family has season tickets, but I don't really want much to do with it. I have frozen my ass off in more December games in my life than I can count. I much prefer enjoying NFL games from home as opposed to the hassle of wasting an entire day away in the cold.

To each their own, be a fan of whoever you want, but obviously youre not a fan of a team if you took a decade off from following them while they sucked.

I watched the Sox every summer for the past decade when they were trash and not even trying to win and I went to games still, so nah I don't quite understand it.

I like having some control by having the STs in my name, but I wouldn't do them without having committed partners.

I don’t believe so. But I’d say there’s a difference about bitching about taking your fandom elsewhere and actually doing it for a decade

Yes, I read it a year or two ago as a board assignment of sorts.

Mostly, I found it depressing. He spends a lot of time talking about how Hawks games were like little anthropological trips where everyone except for him was toothless white trash to be studied and feared. He goes well past the doth-protest-too-much point with it -- I haven't seen much of Sam in action, but I've never exactly gotten the feeling that he presents himself as firmly among America's cultural elite. There's a lot of stuff about envying and secretly wishing to be a big Bulls fan instead, maybe so he could have lived his dream of co-hosting a radio show with Dan Bernstein, I don't know. Given that the prose reads like those threads where all of us would do Terry Boers impressions, it's not exactly a wild guess.

what made the Hawks more difficult to follow from the late 90's to the dynasty era was that they only televised road games, so you only got to watch games where the Hawks would lose more frequently. Then when the Hawks were at home for an extended period of time, you couldn't watch the games at home. Out of sight, out of mind.

Have any of you guys written or attempted to write a book? I look at it as a daunting task. My son sends me his papers to edit and it takes me quite a while as I look for the perfect grammar or labor over one word. Then I see these politicians punch up a 300 page book while they have a busy schedule legislating or a guy like Fels who really has nothing to say in life but produces almost 300. Is it really easier than I perceive?

The future holds the possibility to be great or terrible, and since it has not yet occurred it remains simultaneously both.

Spitting out copy is easy, but real writing is very hard for exactly the reasons you describe. I'd write a book if I thought I had anything to say, which I don't. The politicians all have ghostwriters. Rumor has it Chasten Buttigieg's ghostwriter is heterodox literary critic and JORR/CH favorite Lauren Oyler.

For instance they were never taught that Columbus was a slave owner.

Spitting out copy is easy, but real writing is very hard for exactly the reasons you describe. I'd write a book if I thought I had anything to say, which I don't. The politicians all have ghostwriters. Rumor has it Chasten Buttigieg's ghostwriter is heterodox literary critic and JORR/CH favorite Lauren Oyler.

Well maybe Lauren does, but she's not married to a... sorta one time presidential candidate.

On the eve of Donald Trump's inauguration, a young woman snoops through her boyfriend's phone and makes a startling discovery: he's an anonymous internet conspiracy theorist, and a popular one at that. Already fluent in internet fakery, irony, and outrage, she's not exactly shocked by the revelation. Actually, she's relieved--he was always a little distant--and she plots to end their floundering relationship while on a trip to the Women's March in DC. But this is only the first in a series of bizarre twists that expose a world whose truths are shaped by online lies.

Suddenly left with no reason to stay in New York and increasingly alienated from her friends and colleagues, our unnamed narrator flees to Berlin, embarking on her own cycles of manipulation in the deceptive spaces of her daily life, from dating apps to expat meetups, open-plan offices to bureaucratic waiting rooms. She begins to think she can't trust anyone--shouldn't the feeling be mutual?

Narrated with seductive confidence and subversive wit, Fake Accounts challenges the way current conversations about the self and community, delusions and gaslighting, and fiction and reality play out in the internet age.

The future holds the possibility to be great or terrible, and since it has not yet occurred it remains simultaneously both.

Her first novel is out and I just put a hold on it!



Help! I'm Dating a Proud Boy! would be terrible in most people's hands, but I trust her.

For instance they were never taught that Columbus was a slave owner.

what made the Hawks more difficult to follow from the late 90's to the dynasty era was that they only televised road games, so you only got to watch games where the Hawks would lose more frequently. Then when the Hawks were at home for an extended period of time, you couldn't watch the games at home. Out of sight, out of mind.

Trae Young will be a bust. Book It!

That sounds like a memoir not a novel.

There are few practical suggestions for the well-meaning (self-hating?) male feminist to find here. Both the fun sections, like lists of “flirts” that do and do not work, and potentially illuminating passages, such as one reflecting on her parents’ divorce and whether love is “fake,” are undermined by the fact that Roberson does not have much sustained experience with men and seems to be getting her information from a combination of romantic comedies, friends’ anecdotes, and ambient women’s-magazine wisdom. She ignores a comedy dictum she reproduces—“Art is better when it is specific!”—as most of her romantic encounters, which might at least be funny, if not revealing of what she believes men are doing wrong, are depicted hazily. (Nor is there an elucidation of, say, how kissing men is oppressive.) Conveniently, Roberson believes that not proving her points can prove her point. As she notes in another line that reads as if twice removed, having been cribbed from books for blog posts and tweets and now cribbed again for a book full of blog posts: “Honestly, it’s not the responsibility of the oppressed person to constantly explain the details of their oppression to their oppressor, and it’s not like oppressors don’t have the same Google everyone else does.”

Knowing Roberson has little understanding of the practicalities of heterosexuality renders the political ambitions of the book, which is organized into chapters based on an idea of a relationship’s arc—from “Crushes” and “Flirting” through “Dating,” “Psychic Wounds,” and “Getting Serious” to “Breaking Up,” “Being Single,” and “Making Art”—vaguely outrageous, and a little sad. (She skips all the best parts.) Versions of the word oppress occur more than thirty times, and Roberson believes she herself is among the disadvantaged. As is apparently required now for anyone writing about how her personal problems are political, Roberson feels compelled to acknowledge that, as a “white, straight, cis, able-bodied, college-educated woman,” she has “a lot of privilege.” Other things we learn about her: She went to Harvard, she has a supportive family and many friends she apparently likes, she works for a late-night television show (the celebrity host of which has blurbed her book), she writes for the New Yorker, she lives alone in a steal of an apartment in Brooklyn, she maintains a packed schedule of comedy shows she often hosts, she is “hot and funny!” One could be forgiven for assuming the only oppression she experiences is that the men she likes don’t want to date her.

The future holds the possibility to be great or terrible, and since it has not yet occurred it remains simultaneously both.

- LOOK IVE' SAID IT ONCE AND I'LL SAY IT AGAIN. THESE LAH-DEE-DAH SOVIET PLAYERS,

- They're the Russians now.

- SOVIETS, RUSSIANS, ROOSKIES, WHATEVER, YA GET TO THE PLAYOFFS AND YA SEE IT EVERY TIME. MOGILNY. THE BURES. ZHAMNOV. SAMZANOV. AFNA, FINA, AFINAGOV. AN NOW PANERA. LIKE A MAGIC TRICK, POOF, INTA THIN AIR, EVERY SINGLE TIME EXCEPT FER THE ONES ON DETROIT.

- Well then I guess it's not every single time.

- WILL YOU JUST LET ME FINISH A THOUGHT HERE?

- I've been waiting for you to start one.

- MY POINT IS, THE RUSSIAN PEOPLE ARE SUPPOSED TO BE TOUGH! IT'S COLD LIKE IT IS HERE, YOU LOOK AT ALL THEY'VE BEEN THROUGH, YOU JUST WONDER WHY THEY CAN'T BE MORE TOUGH. YOU SHOW ME PANERA AND DAVE ANDREYCHUK AND YA ASK ME WHICH ONE'S PEOPLE SURVIVED FAMINES AND REVOLUTIONS TO BE HERE TODAY, I SAY ANDREYCHUK.

- So your point is that you'd be wrong.

- I'M JUST SAYING I KNOW WHO I'D GO TO WAR WITH IS ALL.

- There you have it, the fourth member of the Allied Powers, Don Cherry, with the Coach's Corner.

back on subject tho. Much like Lazerus, Danny B and Julie D. Sam Fels knows literally nothing about hockey and probably still wants to Trade Kane