This is the 193rd and final G:TB post of 2019. Our goal (stated or not) this year was to post at least once every two days, which is a reasonable target for a blog (and bloggers) starting to show its age. The bloggers, anyway. We reached our goal, so, huzzah!
As will become obvious, the Twelve Days of Gheorghemas will stretch into next year, or at least next year on the Gregorian Calendar. On the Gheorghian Calendar, the new year doesn't begin until Whitney says it does. And I'm okay with that. Today we'll celebrate things undone.
Herewith, a list of titles and/or ideas for blog posts initiated in 2019 that sit today in our Drafts folder (there are older efforts, for sure). The editors welcome anyone who'd like to take a crack at finishing any and all of them to have a go:
Richy is a punk rocker...
Trump Universe: Endgame
Weekends with Ken
Why I Am
What I'm Angry About This Week
chicken sandwich taste test
https://amp.charlotteobserver.com/news/local/article232242782.html (this is a story about a ghost town for sale in north carolina)
All Downhill From Here
gheorghe explains 2020: the democrats
(Untitled Post)
Fashion is Dumb: Cold Weather Edition
Gheorghe Tank
https://www.washingtonpost.com/sports/2019/01/26/kendall-coyne-schofield-becomes-first-woman-compete-nhl-all-star-skills-event/?utm_term=.e116bfa14859 (a story about a U.S. Women's Hockey National Team member with mad speed)
draft
criticism of liberals - soft, pansies criticism of trump voters - rubes, morons, not smart evaluate the contradictions
As themes go, we've got some typical Gheorghian silliness, angry/resigned political ranting, a couple of apparent attempts by me to explain me, and some inscrutable nonsense. Essentially, another year in the life of this little corner of the interwebs.
Let's do it again, shall we?
Tuesday, December 31, 2019
Sunday, December 29, 2019
The Twelve Days of Gheorghemas: Day Ten
On the Tenth Day of Gheorghemas,
Big Gheorghe gave to me:
Ten Years of Dipshits
Nine (six, really) goats goatating
Eight Autographs Showing How Sad My Childhood Was
Seven Books for Reading
Six Vinyl Discs
Five golden (Cream Yellow, really) cylinders for Squeaky
Four players playing
Three Nutty Squirrels
Two Chilean bangers (literally)
And a British lass slingin’ hot meat
When I started to write this post, I was operating under the belief that 2019 marked the tenth anniversary of Gheorghemas, arguably our most inspired, and indubitably our most resilient feature. As with most things I/we do around here, closer inspection revealed that assumption to be slightly off.
In fact, the very first Gheorghemas post was released to the waiting world on December 2, 2008. In typical G:TB style, it referenced a previous event that didn't exist, as TJ wrote, "Today, in our 1,000th post, we return to our annual tradition, bringing the world the Twelve Days of Gheorghe-mas." (To be fair-ish, the Teej did post an abbreviated Twelve Days of Christmas from Gheorghe all the way back in 2005. Future scholars will debate whether this is canon. I submit that it is not.)
This month does, however, mark a milestone Gheorghemas-related anniversary, which will salvage this post idea just in the nick of time. On December 28, 2009, we posted the very first The Year in G:TB post. And so, in honor of ten years of talking about the past year, here are the most iconic G:TB posts of the decade-plus, in more or less chronological order (we can vote on the top three all-time in the comments. Or not, more likely):
2009
We interviewed LeBron James. I still shake my head about the fact that this happened.
Whitney published Gheorghe: the Yearbook. Good goofy LoLs here.
The Teej went to the Indiana State Fair. All-timer.
Zman wrote a shitload of words about the Bills and Browns, and it wasn't the last time.
2010
We got published in The Atlantic. I'd completely forgotten that this happened.
Polyps, man.
Summer Dave 2010 was prolific in a way Rest of the Decade Dave never matched.
2011
We launched #3bids4caa. The rest is history.
Mark used to do excellent NBA Draft previews.
The very first episode of zJurisprudence featured the seminal Urbont v. Ghostface case.
Shlara reminded us that she's a badass.
2012
G:TB MET GHEORGHE!
KQ and Shlara explained "that's the reason I'm a Bullets fan".
Doofus Wedding!
Dave, his dog, two garbage cans, and three lesbians.
2013
I miss my grandparents.
The Teej got a buttpat from Bobby Valentine. A robust one, too.
2014
The greatest mid-major hoops road story ever told. Come for the buddy adventure, stay for the very first comment, courtesy of Danimal.
Ms. Green goes to Washington. This one's a keeper.
Mark wrote about his Dad. Another keeper. Way to go, 2014!
2015
In Marcus we Trusted.
The greatest hoops game I've ever seen live happened. My man Marls was there, too.
I jumped out of a perfectly good airplane. Midlife crisis? Me?
We debuted The Chronicles of an Aging Gheorghie to much popular acclaim.
2016
We achieved the G:TB Singularity.
Arnold Palmer, George H.W. Bush, and Danimal. True story.
Brian Posehn sells weed to 3rd graders. An actual LOL.
2017
Eh, couldn't really find one in 2017 I thought was worthy. Kinda ran out of steam, if I'm being honest.
2018
We shoulda bought Mike's Paul Newman.
I followed through after decades of threatening to get ink. Working on my second design as we speak.
2019
We're not including anything from 2019 because, well, you know. Gotta keep the fans waiting, if only a few more days.
Big Gheorghe gave to me:
Ten Years of Dipshits
Nine (six, really) goats goatating
Eight Autographs Showing How Sad My Childhood Was
Seven Books for Reading
Six Vinyl Discs
Five golden (Cream Yellow, really) cylinders for Squeaky
Four players playing
Three Nutty Squirrels
Two Chilean bangers (literally)
And a British lass slingin’ hot meat
When I started to write this post, I was operating under the belief that 2019 marked the tenth anniversary of Gheorghemas, arguably our most inspired, and indubitably our most resilient feature. As with most things I/we do around here, closer inspection revealed that assumption to be slightly off.
In fact, the very first Gheorghemas post was released to the waiting world on December 2, 2008. In typical G:TB style, it referenced a previous event that didn't exist, as TJ wrote, "Today, in our 1,000th post, we return to our annual tradition, bringing the world the Twelve Days of Gheorghe-mas." (To be fair-ish, the Teej did post an abbreviated Twelve Days of Christmas from Gheorghe all the way back in 2005. Future scholars will debate whether this is canon. I submit that it is not.)
This month does, however, mark a milestone Gheorghemas-related anniversary, which will salvage this post idea just in the nick of time. On December 28, 2009, we posted the very first The Year in G:TB post. And so, in honor of ten years of talking about the past year, here are the most iconic G:TB posts of the decade-plus, in more or less chronological order (we can vote on the top three all-time in the comments. Or not, more likely):
2009
We interviewed LeBron James. I still shake my head about the fact that this happened.
Whitney published Gheorghe: the Yearbook. Good goofy LoLs here.
The Teej went to the Indiana State Fair. All-timer.
Zman wrote a shitload of words about the Bills and Browns, and it wasn't the last time.
2010
We got published in The Atlantic. I'd completely forgotten that this happened.
Polyps, man.
Summer Dave 2010 was prolific in a way Rest of the Decade Dave never matched.
2011
We launched #3bids4caa. The rest is history.
Mark used to do excellent NBA Draft previews.
The very first episode of zJurisprudence featured the seminal Urbont v. Ghostface case.Shlara reminded us that she's a badass.
2012
G:TB MET GHEORGHE!
KQ and Shlara explained "that's the reason I'm a Bullets fan".
Doofus Wedding!
Dave, his dog, two garbage cans, and three lesbians.
2013
I miss my grandparents.
The Teej got a buttpat from Bobby Valentine. A robust one, too.
2014
The greatest mid-major hoops road story ever told. Come for the buddy adventure, stay for the very first comment, courtesy of Danimal.
Ms. Green goes to Washington. This one's a keeper.
Mark wrote about his Dad. Another keeper. Way to go, 2014!
2015
In Marcus we Trusted.
The greatest hoops game I've ever seen live happened. My man Marls was there, too.
I jumped out of a perfectly good airplane. Midlife crisis? Me?
We debuted The Chronicles of an Aging Gheorghie to much popular acclaim.2016
We achieved the G:TB Singularity.
Arnold Palmer, George H.W. Bush, and Danimal. True story.
Brian Posehn sells weed to 3rd graders. An actual LOL.
2017
Eh, couldn't really find one in 2017 I thought was worthy. Kinda ran out of steam, if I'm being honest.
2018
We shoulda bought Mike's Paul Newman.
I followed through after decades of threatening to get ink. Working on my second design as we speak.
2019
We're not including anything from 2019 because, well, you know. Gotta keep the fans waiting, if only a few more days.
 |
| Longtime readers will get this. |
Saturday, December 28, 2019
The Twelve Days of Gheorghemas 2019 Day 9: Nine (six, really) goats goatating
On the ninth day of Gheorghemas
Big Gheorghe gave to me:
Nine (six, really) goats goatating
Eight Autographs Showing How Sad My Childhood Was
Seven Books for Reading
Six Vinyl Discs
Five golden (Cream Yellow, really) cylinders for Squeaky
Four players playing
Three Nutty Squirrels
Two Chilean bangers (literally)
And a British lass slingin’ hot meat
Al Johnson's Swedish Restaurant & Butik is, as its name implies, a Swedish restaurant and boutique in Sister Bay, Wisconsin. More specifically, their website explains that "Al Johnson’s is an authentic Swedish family owned restaurant where you can find goats grazing the sod roof. It's quite a sight, and it's made this place one of the most famous restaurants in Door County."
That's right, the building features goats grazing on its roof. They even have a goatcam from May through October.
This feature is so remarkable and noteworthy that the owners applied for, and the United States Patent and Trademark Office granted, trade dress registration for the goats on the roof. Seriously. Here's their drawing of the mark:
I learned all of this because Todd C. Bank, allegedly a real person and an attorney, filed a petition to cancel Al Johson's trade dress registration. If you've been reading my G:TB stuff for any period of time, you probably predicted that. Also predictable: the court referred to the trade dress as the "Goats on the Roof Registration" throughout their opinion.
Much less predictable are Mr. Banks's arguments against the Goats on the Roof Registration. In particular, "Mr. Bank sought to cancel the Goats on the Roof Registration as functional, alleging that the trade dress 'is demeaning to' goats, which, in turn, 'is offensive to [Mr.] Bank and denigrates the value he [and others] place[] on the respect, dignity, and worth of animals.'"
Perhaps Mr. Bank was once a goat himself. He will always be a goat to me.
The Federal Circuit agreed with my latter sentiment and booted his case for lack of standing. In plain English, Mr. Bank had no "legitimate personal interest in the opposition."
Remarkably, this was the third time Mr. Bank opposed the Goats on the Roof Registration so the court awarded the restaurant its costs and attorney fees. Marls and the other barristers among our readership are likely saying "oh snap!" to themselves. Those of you who were smart enough to avoid law school will have to take my word for it when I say this is quite a benchslap.
If you want to show support for Al Johnson and his goats, I suggest you peruse the wonderful offerings in their butik. For example, they have these socks for Teedge:
Yes, those are goats wearing bowties.
They have these golf balls for Danimal:
And a shot glass for Whitney:
TR would love these playing cards with naked goats on them:
They even have child size goat tshirts for rob:
Who wouldn't like this goat hat (Scandanavian woman not included):
And just in time for Gheorghemas, this Änglaspel goat rotary candle holder would look perfect on everyone's mantle. Everyone should have a set of six to nine goats goatating in their living room.
Merry Gheorghemas everyone!
Big Gheorghe gave to me:
Nine (six, really) goats goatating
Eight Autographs Showing How Sad My Childhood Was
Seven Books for Reading
Six Vinyl Discs
Five golden (Cream Yellow, really) cylinders for Squeaky
Four players playing
Three Nutty Squirrels
Two Chilean bangers (literally)
And a British lass slingin’ hot meat
Al Johnson's Swedish Restaurant & Butik is, as its name implies, a Swedish restaurant and boutique in Sister Bay, Wisconsin. More specifically, their website explains that "Al Johnson’s is an authentic Swedish family owned restaurant where you can find goats grazing the sod roof. It's quite a sight, and it's made this place one of the most famous restaurants in Door County."
That's right, the building features goats grazing on its roof. They even have a goatcam from May through October.
This feature is so remarkable and noteworthy that the owners applied for, and the United States Patent and Trademark Office granted, trade dress registration for the goats on the roof. Seriously. Here's their drawing of the mark:
I learned all of this because Todd C. Bank, allegedly a real person and an attorney, filed a petition to cancel Al Johson's trade dress registration. If you've been reading my G:TB stuff for any period of time, you probably predicted that. Also predictable: the court referred to the trade dress as the "Goats on the Roof Registration" throughout their opinion.
Much less predictable are Mr. Banks's arguments against the Goats on the Roof Registration. In particular, "Mr. Bank sought to cancel the Goats on the Roof Registration as functional, alleging that the trade dress 'is demeaning to' goats, which, in turn, 'is offensive to [Mr.] Bank and denigrates the value he [and others] place[] on the respect, dignity, and worth of animals.'"
Perhaps Mr. Bank was once a goat himself. He will always be a goat to me.
The Federal Circuit agreed with my latter sentiment and booted his case for lack of standing. In plain English, Mr. Bank had no "legitimate personal interest in the opposition."
Remarkably, this was the third time Mr. Bank opposed the Goats on the Roof Registration so the court awarded the restaurant its costs and attorney fees. Marls and the other barristers among our readership are likely saying "oh snap!" to themselves. Those of you who were smart enough to avoid law school will have to take my word for it when I say this is quite a benchslap.
If you want to show support for Al Johnson and his goats, I suggest you peruse the wonderful offerings in their butik. For example, they have these socks for Teedge:
Yes, those are goats wearing bowties.
They have these golf balls for Danimal:
And a shot glass for Whitney:
TR would love these playing cards with naked goats on them:
They even have child size goat tshirts for rob:
Who wouldn't like this goat hat (Scandanavian woman not included):
And just in time for Gheorghemas, this Änglaspel goat rotary candle holder would look perfect on everyone's mantle. Everyone should have a set of six to nine goats goatating in their living room.
Merry Gheorghemas everyone!
Thursday, December 26, 2019
An Autograph Collection as Sad as My Childhood
On the eighth day of Gheorghemas
Big Gheorghe gave to me:
Eight Autographs Showing How Sad My Childhood Was
Seven Books for Reading
Six Vinyl Discs
Five golden (Cream Yellow, really) cylinders for Squeaky
Four players playing
Three Nutty Squirrels
Two Chilean bangers (literally)
And a British lass slingin’ hot meat
I hope the extended Gheorghemas interlude is treating all well. I have used the time quasi-effectively. After recently carving out space for an office/man cave in my basement, I pulled out a box with some stuff from my pre-college days: high school yearbooks, memorable SI issues, collectibles and the like. Also in the box was a binder with my childhood autograph collection. I was not a big autograph collector as a kid, but I would take whatever I could get b/c I loved sports and was too poor to be picky. Being a child of divorce with two single parents with no money meant you loved every sports interaction you could get, even if it meant only going to Nets games when your dad cut out 2-for-1 ticket deals I found on the side of cartons of milk.
I leafed through my childhood autograph book the other day. It was quite depressing and sorta fit the sad recollection of my childhood that I have. (Editor's note: TR's two most prized autographs from his childhood - Pat LaFontaine and Dave Winfield - were not kept in this book and are therefore not included below. They were framed and hung on his wall. His Dave Winfield autograph got cat claw marks on one corner the day the autograph happened b/c TR's cat attacked the 8x10 photo he left drying on his kitchen table, just to remind him his life sucked. Yep, that was TR's childhood in a nutshell. Bullied by a female cat named Fred.)
So without further ado, check out the highlights from my depressing collection. One for each day of Gheorghemas.
Autograph 1: Duncan, the New Jersey Nets' mascot. The Nets were an abomination throughout the 80's. I have no idea how I got this, but I love the witty "All my glove" signing. Duncan was the shit, even if he never got out from under the Phillie Phanatic's shadow.
Autograph 2: Adrian Vandeberg, guitarist of Whitesnake. My first concert was at the PNC Bank Arts Center in Holmdel, NJ in the summer of 1988. It was a Whitesnake/Great White show. My dad yelled at me to wear a jacket when he dropped us all off at the show. I said no. He made me wear the Members Only jacket he was wearing, as if I needed one more way to look uncool at a 1980's summer heavy metal amphitheatre show.
No, I did not get any hot action that night. But I got the autograph below at a record store the day of the show! No idea why I went. I think my friends went and I said I would go along. Good thing I added the note and the down arrow so I could figure out where the autograph was on the page. There were a lot of slutty, older metal girls at the autograph signing. The kind that made a 13 y/o kid keep his autograph pad in front of his privates the whole time. I think life was very fun for Adrian, Coverdale, Rudy Sarzo and the other Whitesnake guys for a few years.
Autograph 3: assorted low level New York Giant players from the mid 1980's. I got this at a sad "Giants vs local firefighers" event one night. This was another great job by me - writing the actual names of the players next to the autograph. Not a lot of Hall of Famers in this bunch (Zeke Mowatt, Maurice Carthon, Kenny Hill, Herb Welch, Tony Galbreath and Stacy Robinson). Zeke went on to do some very impressive things. Glad I have that one.
Autograph 4 - "Future Star" Dave Magadan. Remember when a really smart dude wrote a compelling set of entries on 1980's Topps baseball cards on this blog? I was REALLY into baseball cards in the late 80's, I would bite hard on any "hot" rookie cards. I still have a lot of rookie cards of Ramon Martinez, Todd Zeile, Mike Greenwell, Hensly Meulens and others. Not Pedro Martinez, mind you. His older brother Ramon. I think a card of Razor Ramon would be more valuable today than one of Ramon Martinez. I have this autographed Dave Magadan card. I made my dad take me to sad baseball card shop somewhere in the swamps of Jersey to buy this. It was a cold weekend morning and Dave came out late. It wasn't very crowded, and he was a bigger dude than I expected. His career was underwhelming, because Mets.
Autograph 5 - Phil Simms. This one is actually legit. Two-time Super Bowl winner and a big force behind Bigelow Tea's marketing campaign. Notice the theme of me having more stuff from the local teams I did not root for (Mets, Giants) than the ones I did root for (Yankees, Jets).
Autograph 6 - Moose Skowron. He was a cog, but not a star, on several 1950's Yankees World Series winners. Maybe that makes him the Scott Brosius of the 50's? I got this card and the autograph at a baseball card convention in Asbury Park. I went to a bunch of these conventions, where I built up an absurdly/creepily large set of Dave Winfield cards/memorabilia.
All I remember from this autograph is that Moose was old and square and built like a brick shithouse.
Autograph 7 - Chuck Wepner. My dad did what many other immigrants did while in the US - worked his ass off to climb up to middle class status. In addition to his full-time gig at the local college, he worked part-time at local bars/restaurants throughout my childhood. He would go and turn them around. People like to buy and own bars and grills, but they usually don't know how to run them. My dad would redo the menu, work with them on kitchen equipment (scaling it, buy/lease debates, etc) and tell them to stop giving away liquor, the highest profit margin product a bar sells. One place where he worked for a few months was Edgar's in Sea Girt, NJ. The owner was a shady man who went by "Fat Al." Fat Al was a friend of Chuck Wepner. My dad, who was always a suck-up to celebrities, became casual friends with Wepner and got me his autograph. According to Chuck's own words, he and I are pals and my dad is a great guy. So we got that going for us.
Autograph 8 - Leroy Neiman and Greg Butler (not pictured). The name Greg Butler should mean little to most of you. Butler was a 2nd round draft pick of the Knicks in 1988, a good old-fashioned 7-foot stiff white center who never did much in the NBA. In one of my earliest visits to MSG, which was a bucket list moment for me when I was 14 or 15, my dad and I attended a Knicks game. Back then, you could wander all over the arena and get pretty close to the court. I mustered up some courage and got Greg Butler's autograph courtside. As I walked back to my dad, he pointed out Leroy Neiman nearby, he of the sports and other dated paintings. Leroy indulged me. So I got that going for me.
Merry Gheorghemas!
Big Gheorghe gave to me:
Eight Autographs Showing How Sad My Childhood Was
Seven Books for Reading
Six Vinyl Discs
Five golden (Cream Yellow, really) cylinders for Squeaky
Four players playing
Three Nutty Squirrels
Two Chilean bangers (literally)
And a British lass slingin’ hot meat
I hope the extended Gheorghemas interlude is treating all well. I have used the time quasi-effectively. After recently carving out space for an office/man cave in my basement, I pulled out a box with some stuff from my pre-college days: high school yearbooks, memorable SI issues, collectibles and the like. Also in the box was a binder with my childhood autograph collection. I was not a big autograph collector as a kid, but I would take whatever I could get b/c I loved sports and was too poor to be picky. Being a child of divorce with two single parents with no money meant you loved every sports interaction you could get, even if it meant only going to Nets games when your dad cut out 2-for-1 ticket deals I found on the side of cartons of milk.
I leafed through my childhood autograph book the other day. It was quite depressing and sorta fit the sad recollection of my childhood that I have. (Editor's note: TR's two most prized autographs from his childhood - Pat LaFontaine and Dave Winfield - were not kept in this book and are therefore not included below. They were framed and hung on his wall. His Dave Winfield autograph got cat claw marks on one corner the day the autograph happened b/c TR's cat attacked the 8x10 photo he left drying on his kitchen table, just to remind him his life sucked. Yep, that was TR's childhood in a nutshell. Bullied by a female cat named Fred.)
So without further ado, check out the highlights from my depressing collection. One for each day of Gheorghemas.
Autograph 1: Duncan, the New Jersey Nets' mascot. The Nets were an abomination throughout the 80's. I have no idea how I got this, but I love the witty "All my glove" signing. Duncan was the shit, even if he never got out from under the Phillie Phanatic's shadow.
Autograph 2: Adrian Vandeberg, guitarist of Whitesnake. My first concert was at the PNC Bank Arts Center in Holmdel, NJ in the summer of 1988. It was a Whitesnake/Great White show. My dad yelled at me to wear a jacket when he dropped us all off at the show. I said no. He made me wear the Members Only jacket he was wearing, as if I needed one more way to look uncool at a 1980's summer heavy metal amphitheatre show.
No, I did not get any hot action that night. But I got the autograph below at a record store the day of the show! No idea why I went. I think my friends went and I said I would go along. Good thing I added the note and the down arrow so I could figure out where the autograph was on the page. There were a lot of slutty, older metal girls at the autograph signing. The kind that made a 13 y/o kid keep his autograph pad in front of his privates the whole time. I think life was very fun for Adrian, Coverdale, Rudy Sarzo and the other Whitesnake guys for a few years.
Autograph 3: assorted low level New York Giant players from the mid 1980's. I got this at a sad "Giants vs local firefighers" event one night. This was another great job by me - writing the actual names of the players next to the autograph. Not a lot of Hall of Famers in this bunch (Zeke Mowatt, Maurice Carthon, Kenny Hill, Herb Welch, Tony Galbreath and Stacy Robinson). Zeke went on to do some very impressive things. Glad I have that one.
Autograph 4 - "Future Star" Dave Magadan. Remember when a really smart dude wrote a compelling set of entries on 1980's Topps baseball cards on this blog? I was REALLY into baseball cards in the late 80's, I would bite hard on any "hot" rookie cards. I still have a lot of rookie cards of Ramon Martinez, Todd Zeile, Mike Greenwell, Hensly Meulens and others. Not Pedro Martinez, mind you. His older brother Ramon. I think a card of Razor Ramon would be more valuable today than one of Ramon Martinez. I have this autographed Dave Magadan card. I made my dad take me to sad baseball card shop somewhere in the swamps of Jersey to buy this. It was a cold weekend morning and Dave came out late. It wasn't very crowded, and he was a bigger dude than I expected. His career was underwhelming, because Mets.
Autograph 5 - Phil Simms. This one is actually legit. Two-time Super Bowl winner and a big force behind Bigelow Tea's marketing campaign. Notice the theme of me having more stuff from the local teams I did not root for (Mets, Giants) than the ones I did root for (Yankees, Jets).
Autograph 6 - Moose Skowron. He was a cog, but not a star, on several 1950's Yankees World Series winners. Maybe that makes him the Scott Brosius of the 50's? I got this card and the autograph at a baseball card convention in Asbury Park. I went to a bunch of these conventions, where I built up an absurdly/creepily large set of Dave Winfield cards/memorabilia.
All I remember from this autograph is that Moose was old and square and built like a brick shithouse.
Autograph 7 - Chuck Wepner. My dad did what many other immigrants did while in the US - worked his ass off to climb up to middle class status. In addition to his full-time gig at the local college, he worked part-time at local bars/restaurants throughout my childhood. He would go and turn them around. People like to buy and own bars and grills, but they usually don't know how to run them. My dad would redo the menu, work with them on kitchen equipment (scaling it, buy/lease debates, etc) and tell them to stop giving away liquor, the highest profit margin product a bar sells. One place where he worked for a few months was Edgar's in Sea Girt, NJ. The owner was a shady man who went by "Fat Al." Fat Al was a friend of Chuck Wepner. My dad, who was always a suck-up to celebrities, became casual friends with Wepner and got me his autograph. According to Chuck's own words, he and I are pals and my dad is a great guy. So we got that going for us.
Autograph 8 - Leroy Neiman and Greg Butler (not pictured). The name Greg Butler should mean little to most of you. Butler was a 2nd round draft pick of the Knicks in 1988, a good old-fashioned 7-foot stiff white center who never did much in the NBA. In one of my earliest visits to MSG, which was a bucket list moment for me when I was 14 or 15, my dad and I attended a Knicks game. Back then, you could wander all over the arena and get pretty close to the court. I mustered up some courage and got Greg Butler's autograph courtside. As I walked back to my dad, he pointed out Leroy Neiman nearby, he of the sports and other dated paintings. Leroy indulged me. So I got that going for me.
Merry Gheorghemas!
Tuesday, December 24, 2019
Gheorghemas Interlude Interlude
I didn't think it'd come to this, but our 'ludes need 'ludes now, apparently. Enjoy the day, Gheorghies.
Friday, December 20, 2019
Gheorghemas Interlude: And Unto Gheorghe a Child Was Born
The recent roster meltdown impacting Patrick Ewing's Georgetown University basketball squad has made a decent amount of news across the college hoopsverse. Under Ewing, the Hoyas have been a bit uneven, but the first-time head coach seemed to have his team trending in the right direction before three players (forward Galen Alexander, guard Myron Gardner, and forward Josh LeBlanc) left the program under a cloud of suspicion. To make matters worse, leading scorer and point guard James Akinjo announced his intention to transfer, as well.
In the best of circumstances, losing four players bodes ill for a basketball team. A funny thing happened on the way to the basement, and it included an unexpected Easter egg for Team G:TB.
The Hoyas are unbeaten since the exodus, winning easily on the road against a tough SMU team, dropping Syracuse at home, and cruising against UMBC. Mac McClung, who played in an off-guard role while Akinjo ran the point, took over control of the offense. McClung scored 19 with seven assists in the win over SMU and dropped 26 on Syracuse. The sophomore's productivity is way up over his surprising debut season, and now he's going to be the focal point of Ewing's offense.
But McClung's not the guy that brought us here.
Georgetown senior George Muresan played a total of 25 minutes over 12 games in his first three seasons on The Hilltop. He's scored three points and grabbed three rebounds over his career. And now, with the Hoyas' roster depleted, the Son of Gheorghe is getting some run.
Relatively speaking.
In Georgetown's past two games, young Muresan has played 14 minutes, and not in garbage time. He hasn't scored, but he's grabbed a pair of boards. The points will come, if we know from Muresan. As near as we can tell, George will be a secret weapon as Ewing seeks to squeeze everything he can from his depleted roster.
I think we know who G:TB is rooting for in the Big East this season, anyway.
In the best of circumstances, losing four players bodes ill for a basketball team. A funny thing happened on the way to the basement, and it included an unexpected Easter egg for Team G:TB.
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| Baby Ghitsa! |
But McClung's not the guy that brought us here.
Georgetown senior George Muresan played a total of 25 minutes over 12 games in his first three seasons on The Hilltop. He's scored three points and grabbed three rebounds over his career. And now, with the Hoyas' roster depleted, the Son of Gheorghe is getting some run.
Relatively speaking.
In Georgetown's past two games, young Muresan has played 14 minutes, and not in garbage time. He hasn't scored, but he's grabbed a pair of boards. The points will come, if we know from Muresan. As near as we can tell, George will be a secret weapon as Ewing seeks to squeeze everything he can from his depleted roster.
I think we know who G:TB is rooting for in the Big East this season, anyway.
Tuesday, December 17, 2019
The Twelve Days of Gheorghemas Day Seven (Seven Books for Reading)
On the seventh day of Gheorghemas
Big Gheorghe gave to me:
Seven Books for Reading
Six Vinyl Discs
Five golden (Cream Yellow, really) cylinders for Squeaky
Four players playing
Three Nutty Squirrels
Two Chilean bangers (literally)
And a British lass slingin’ hot meat
Aloha Gheorghies. I hope some of you read my #1 book pick for 2019. It's by Sam Anderson and the title is a mouthful:
Boom Town: The Fantastical Saga of Oklahoma City, Its Chaotic Founding, Its Apocalyptic Weather, Its Purloined Basketball Team, and the Dream of Becoming a World Class Metropolis
If you didn't read it, you still can. That's the thing about books. And, unlike The Sixth Sense, I doubt anyone has spoiled it for you.
Unlike last year, when I recommended a book that was perfectly apropos for the G:TB-- a fast and easy read about basketball, alternative music, tornadoes, and a clusterfuck on the prairie-- this year I'm going to challenge you motherfuckers.
My number one pick is a trilogy. A sci-fi trilogy. One of the hardest things I ever read. Translated from Chinese. Epic in scope. Groundbreaking. Some people in my office started but no one made it past the first book (and I'm an English teacher). My buddy Alec, who read all of Neal Stephenson's Anathem, quit halfway through book two. But I persevered and it was worth it. I thought I was the only person in New Jersey to finish all three books. Then my friend Melanie told she had whipped through them as well. No problem. So I guess they're not THAT difficult (although Melanie's pretty smart . . . for a girl). So go for it, I promise it will be worth it.
1) The Three-Body Problem by Cixin Liu
2) The Dark Forest by Cixin Liu
3) Death's End by Cixin Liu
The next pick is a fast and furious read. It's one of those non-fiction stories that will stretch the imagination of all you East Coast agnostics. Tara Westover survives being homeschooled by a fanatically religious, preparing-for-the-apocalypse, fighting Big Medicine, scrapmetal-baron nut job of a dad; while she is mercilessly manipulated and bullied by her older brother, and mainly left to fend for herself by a brainwashed, homeopathic midwife mom. In underdog fashion-- broken and corrupted of memory and normality-- she escapes her family and the mountains of Idaho and finally thrives.
4) Educated by Tara Westbrook
If-- instead of fishing and golfing-- you'd rather your retirement consist of going out into the universe and killing stuff, then read:
5) Old Man's War by John Scalzi
If heroin and oxycontin don't scare you enough, then check out:
6) Fentanyl, Inc.: How Rogue Chemists Are Creating the Deadliest Wave of the Opioid Epidemic by Ben Westhoff
I could also recommend Westhoff's Original Gangstas: The Untold Story of Dr. Dre, Eazy-E, Ice Cube, Tupac Shakur, and the Birth of West Coast Rap for Zman and Mark, but the rest of you may find this book a little too comprehensive and detailed. It's a great story though, especially how the gangsta rappers actually started to live up to their lyrics, instead of the reverse. Cause and effect go in reverse, and things end tragically.
Big Gheorghe gave to me:
Seven Books for Reading
Six Vinyl Discs
Five golden (Cream Yellow, really) cylinders for Squeaky
Four players playing
Three Nutty Squirrels
Two Chilean bangers (literally)
And a British lass slingin’ hot meat
Boom Town: The Fantastical Saga of Oklahoma City, Its Chaotic Founding, Its Apocalyptic Weather, Its Purloined Basketball Team, and the Dream of Becoming a World Class Metropolis
If you didn't read it, you still can. That's the thing about books. And, unlike The Sixth Sense, I doubt anyone has spoiled it for you.
Unlike last year, when I recommended a book that was perfectly apropos for the G:TB-- a fast and easy read about basketball, alternative music, tornadoes, and a clusterfuck on the prairie-- this year I'm going to challenge you motherfuckers.
My number one pick is a trilogy. A sci-fi trilogy. One of the hardest things I ever read. Translated from Chinese. Epic in scope. Groundbreaking. Some people in my office started but no one made it past the first book (and I'm an English teacher). My buddy Alec, who read all of Neal Stephenson's Anathem, quit halfway through book two. But I persevered and it was worth it. I thought I was the only person in New Jersey to finish all three books. Then my friend Melanie told she had whipped through them as well. No problem. So I guess they're not THAT difficult (although Melanie's pretty smart . . . for a girl). So go for it, I promise it will be worth it.
1) The Three-Body Problem by Cixin Liu
2) The Dark Forest by Cixin Liu
3) Death's End by Cixin Liu
The next pick is a fast and furious read. It's one of those non-fiction stories that will stretch the imagination of all you East Coast agnostics. Tara Westover survives being homeschooled by a fanatically religious, preparing-for-the-apocalypse, fighting Big Medicine, scrapmetal-baron nut job of a dad; while she is mercilessly manipulated and bullied by her older brother, and mainly left to fend for herself by a brainwashed, homeopathic midwife mom. In underdog fashion-- broken and corrupted of memory and normality-- she escapes her family and the mountains of Idaho and finally thrives.
4) Educated by Tara Westbrook
If-- instead of fishing and golfing-- you'd rather your retirement consist of going out into the universe and killing stuff, then read:
5) Old Man's War by John Scalzi
If heroin and oxycontin don't scare you enough, then check out:
6) Fentanyl, Inc.: How Rogue Chemists Are Creating the Deadliest Wave of the Opioid Epidemic by Ben Westhoff
I could also recommend Westhoff's Original Gangstas: The Untold Story of Dr. Dre, Eazy-E, Ice Cube, Tupac Shakur, and the Birth of West Coast Rap for Zman and Mark, but the rest of you may find this book a little too comprehensive and detailed. It's a great story though, especially how the gangsta rappers actually started to live up to their lyrics, instead of the reverse. Cause and effect go in reverse, and things end tragically.
Also, Eazy-E had ten kids by eight different women. I need to get busy, if I'm going to leave a legacy like that.
And while I know Malcolm Gladwell has taken some flak lately, especially in intellectual circles, for being a "thought leader" and sometimes playing fast and loose with his research, I love him as a writer. He makes non-fiction compelling and clear and in his newest book, he really brings his themes full circle. Also, his examples are topical and vividly executed. If you haven't read a Gladwell since Blink, this is a good way to get back into him.
7) Talking to Strangers: What We Should Know About The People We Don’t Know by Malcolm Gladwell
And while I know Malcolm Gladwell has taken some flak lately, especially in intellectual circles, for being a "thought leader" and sometimes playing fast and loose with his research, I love him as a writer. He makes non-fiction compelling and clear and in his newest book, he really brings his themes full circle. Also, his examples are topical and vividly executed. If you haven't read a Gladwell since Blink, this is a good way to get back into him.
7) Talking to Strangers: What We Should Know About The People We Don’t Know by Malcolm Gladwell
Enough of this post. I'm going upstairs to read Say Nothing: A True Story of Murder and Memory in Northern Ireland. Supposed to be really good.
Put some of your 2020 book picks in the comments.
Put some of your 2020 book picks in the comments.
Monday, December 16, 2019
The Twelve Days of Gheorghemas: Day Six
On the sixth day of Gheorghemas
Big Gheorghe gave to me:
Six Vinyl Discs
Five golden (Cream Yellow, really) cylinders for
Squeaky
Four players playing
Three Nutty Squirrels
Two Chilean bangers (literally)
And a British lass slingin’ hot meat
Long time no write. Apologies for the output in 2019. Was
it two years ago GTB featured a series on everyone’s favorite albums? Maybe
three. You might be surprised that nothing was submitted from the 904, but now
it’s time, but with a little twist. Not my favorite, but more or less the first six that I got to know very well, and loved. Some still would be in my fave basket if I had one. Not all though. No judging, as I was a young'n. To think I was my middle child's age is both depressing and eye-opening. It's hard for me to envision any of my kids sitting in a room listening to albums, one after the other. In that respect, maybe I was pretty hip.
Meatloaf
- Bat Out of Hell (1977)
We’re back in Oneida, NY, in the basement with the bar,
beer on tap, and all the fixins. Remember now that I have three older sisters,
the two oldest at the time in their high school years and slightly more than
casual fans of music, mostly of the classic rock variety. Seven or eight years old am I.
This must be my intro to the music my parents would never listen to. “Paradise
by the Dashboard Lights”, the must play wedding song of the 80’s and 90’s
brings me back to the basement with my sisters blasting this album, singing,
screaming the lyrics as I either sit there pissed off because I want to watch
Dukes of Hazzard or slightly amused. And because I was an immense Yankee fan and
watched most of each game that I could before being directed to hit the hay, I
knew Phil Rizzuto and knew him well and wondered… “Huh? What? That’s Phil
Rizzuto?! How’s that? What does this have to do with baseball? I’m confused.”
And I never looked at or listened to The Scooter in the same way again. Evolution
eventually brings me to never being pissed off anymore, and not only amused but
diggin it, to the point I listen to the album incessantly learning every word
to every song. There’s a chance I’d even sing ‘em out loud to honor my
influencers. Though new to music I had heard enough songs on the radio in my
mom’s pinto to know this was not the normal collection of tunes, but didn’t
learn this until a couple of years ago.
The
Cars - The Cars - 1978
Same sitch, or setting anyway. But no sibs. My memory
doesn’t tell me how this album ended up on top of the turntable, but it did.
This was the first record that I considered mine. Since there were probably
less than twenty or so in the crate, consisting of a few Elvis, Frank, Bee Gees, ABBA, Willie, Statler Brothers. Yup. As a young lad, that was all rubbish. Little did I
know my mom’s taste was unquestionable, and the sisters' not too shabby either. Not all records included the lyrics –
this one did, and my early onset OCD did not permit me to just listen to one
random song – I had to listen to the whole thing, in order, lyrics in hand. The memory was better in those
days so in no time I’d have each one down. Bye Bye Love = best song. Cars =
underrated. Ric Ocasek = Outkicker of coverage, even as a wealthy rock star.
But rest in peace Ric. Deep Track rec: All Mixed Up
REO
Speedwagon - Hi Infidelity (1980)
Wikipedia: “They
named the band REO Speedwagon, from the REO Speed Wagon, a 1915 truck that was
designed by Ransom Eli Olds. Doughty (band member) had seen the name written
across the blackboard when he walked into his History of Transportation class
on the first day they had decided to look for a name.” (Please
post other possible monikers in the appropriate section below. What if shop P.E.
had been his next class? Or Physics? Business Law? We could really have fun a
lot of fun with this one guys)
Before starting this exercise, it was my expectation
to listen to this album that I was almost addicted to some 40 years ago, and get pulled back in, maybe even wonder aloud why I've let it continue to be a distant memory, but couldn’t
have been more wrong. Embarrassing. Don’t Let Him Go…decent. Tough Guys, okay.
Everything else, garbage. Pop. Soft rock.
Love ballads, led by Keep on Loving You and Take It On the Run. I was 10 years
old so ease up. Who doesn't remember, among us older guys, the popularity of this album though? Take It On the Run took over the airwaves and no one that I knew showed anything but love for Kevin Cronin's chops.
Rush
- Moving Pictures (1981)
The trio from up north, eh hosers? Any band that I became a fan of was due to the influence
of someone else and in this case a neighbor I hung out with who was two years
my elder, David H. So I was a follower, big whoop. Dave’s parents were young in
comparison to my parents. Rock’n Roll baby – they had it, along with an epic
collection of Playboys. An aspiring drummer himself, David was big into the
Canadian Rockers, Rush. Neal Peart… “Dude, check out this kit man!” How the
hell did we see it though? It wasn’t YouTube. He must have had a video of some
kind, Betamax. It doesn’t matter…Moving
Pictures was purchased and like any other album I invested in, learned
every single word, riff, drum solo. My air skills ran deep, and still do if I’m
being honest. Just ask around. And speaking of deep…Deep Track rec: The Camera
Eye; YouTube Rec: YYZ...shown here.
Foreigner
- Foreigner 4 (1981)
Night Life. Juke Box Hero – I never tire of this song.
Urgent, with Junior Walker’s sax solo. Fun fact – Mark Ronson’s stepdad is none
other than Mick Jones, co-founder, eventual dictator, and sole remnant of
original ensemble. Mark Ronson btw is a scalding hot songwriter/performer/producer.
Other fun fact – Thomas Dolby plays the synthesizer in mega-hit Urgent. Lots of
good trivia you pick up with these projects. The “band” is still together after
all these years, and in fact will be touring in 2020! The band consists of the
aforementioned Mick and a dozen or so other musicians and singers not to
include Lou Gramm. Foreigner without Lou Gramm. Yeah, no thanks.
I am not sure why, but over the last fifteen years or
so I’ve all but stopped downloading/buying music. Absent the occasional Spotify
requests do I ever go back and listen to this stuff, but am going to make the
point to do so at least here in the short term. There are lots of other good
songs that bring back memories, both good and bad. This album, like these
others from ’81 were listened to a ton in ‘81/’82/’83… ’82 was the year our
family moved from NY to VA, devastating for me at the time. Of course it turned
out unicorns and rainbows but I wanted to maim my parents at the time.
The
Who - Face Dances (1981)
In the late 70’s Casey Kasem’s Top 40 countdown on
some FM channel coming most likely out of Syracuse was pretty regular listening
for me steering me towards many bands of the time. You Better You You Bet stuck
and stuck quickly. Not one of their better reviewed works, “neither triumph nor
failure” according to Rolling Stone, I didn’t have anything to compare it to so
what the hell did I know as a mere young man of 11? Not much. But what happened
more often than not, and in this case, my next trip to the K-Mart where these
purchases were made would be spent looking for others titles of The Who, The
Cars, REO, Journey, etc etc…So I can only thank Casey.
Led
Zeppelin – Houses of the Holy (1973)
I’ve gotta thank Steve
Flanagan for this one, and many others from the early mid-70’s including
Aerosmith and Queen. My best friend from kindergarten, Pat Flanagan had four
siblings himself, but all older including two older brothers, Danny and Steven.
Steve was the first cool kid that I knew. Every boy worshiped him. Sharp kid,
funny – dry and sarcastic, an all-world smart-ass. Tall and lean, good looking,
and athletic as all get out, scoring 45 in one 7th/8th grade
game for St. Pat’s. He was smoking cigarettes by twelve, which tragically led
to his death while living in NYC. Falling asleep in his bed with a lit
cigarette, the fire that ensued killed him and very nearly his brother Danny.
Only about 25 at the time, this was a devastating loss for all that knew him.
It put his mom into a tailspin as it would most. My parents were Steve’s godparents,
my sisters were very close with him too. Crushing loss. Whenever hanging at
their house, Steven would have something wailing from his room, and oftentimes
this. And when he’d leave the house, Pat and I would go in his room and do the
same. It was in Steve’s room I first met Aerosmith, Queen,Styx, Lynyrd Skynyrd, and
groovy posters.
Sunday, December 15, 2019
Gheorghemas Interlude
It's a bit of an oversight that we haven't penned any Gheorghemas carols. Looking at you, Greasetruck Yojo. Until we rectify that, we'll keep celebrating a song that we called the finest holiday duet in history way back in 2012.
Friday, December 13, 2019
The Twelve Days of Gheorghemas 2019: Day Five
On the fifth day of Gheorghemas
Big Gheorghe gave to me:
Five golden (Cream Yellow, really) cylinders for Squeaky
Four players playing
Three Nutty Squirrels
Two Chilean bangers (literally)
And a British lass slingin' hot meat
Squeaky is one of my favorite people in the world for a number of reasons. We agree on a lot of things but he's his own man. He likes what he likes because he likes it and not because anyone else told him to. That said, he isn't completely out in left field--a lot of the stuff he likes is completely logical. Most importantly, he doesn't denigrate things that you like that are different from what he likes.
Squeaky uses Android smart phones. He collects vinyl records. He has more Soul Coughing music than Mike Doughty and more Hüsker Dü songs than Bob Mould (and he has a ton of Doughty and Mould's solo work too). He gave me something like 10 GB of live Sonic Youth recordings. He drives to Queens to get hyper-local craft brewed beer, specifically purchasing the correct growler from their plethora of selections for the specific beer he wants. Everybody he knows is more relevant than everybody that I know.
Put simply, Squeaky knows what he's doing when he does his dizzle.
Squeaky drives all-wheel-drive European cars, typically station wagons, often Volvos. Wagons are better than sedans because they hold more stuff. Wagons are better than SUVs because they drive like cars, get better fuel economy, and their proportions make them inherently more stylish. We are like-minded in this regard so you know it's the correct thing to do.
For Gheorghemas I gift unto Squeaky his "What car should a Gheorghie drive?" car, a 1994 Volvo 850 T5-R station wagon in Cream Yellow with black interior and a 5-speed manual.
Volvos in general strike a great balance between safety, luxury, and affordability (compared to comparable offerings from other European marques). The T5-R was a special limited edition variant of the 850 that added sportiness and power to the mix. It has a 2.3 liter five cylinder engine making 243 horsepower--Volvo got Porsche to massage the engine, coaxing more than 100 horses per liter out of it. The 850 T5-R was only sold in the US in 1995, so for Squeaky to get a 1994 he would have to buy it overseas and have it imported, which seems like a Squeaky thing to do in order to get the right T5-R. Only 49 Cream Yellow T5-R wagons were brought to the US so Squeaky won't have to worry about seeing another car like his. Here's one in Waalwijk Netherlands available for US import for about $29k. The mileage is a little high but it's remarkably crispy otherwise and my soft spot for pale yellow cars is well documented.
In 1996 they changed the car's name to 805R and eliminated the manual transmission. I couldn't find a video of a T5-R review but here's Motorweek's take on the 850R from 1996.
Merry Gheorghemas!
Big Gheorghe gave to me:
Five golden (Cream Yellow, really) cylinders for Squeaky
Four players playing
Three Nutty Squirrels
Two Chilean bangers (literally)
And a British lass slingin' hot meat
Squeaky is one of my favorite people in the world for a number of reasons. We agree on a lot of things but he's his own man. He likes what he likes because he likes it and not because anyone else told him to. That said, he isn't completely out in left field--a lot of the stuff he likes is completely logical. Most importantly, he doesn't denigrate things that you like that are different from what he likes.
Squeaky uses Android smart phones. He collects vinyl records. He has more Soul Coughing music than Mike Doughty and more Hüsker Dü songs than Bob Mould (and he has a ton of Doughty and Mould's solo work too). He gave me something like 10 GB of live Sonic Youth recordings. He drives to Queens to get hyper-local craft brewed beer, specifically purchasing the correct growler from their plethora of selections for the specific beer he wants. Everybody he knows is more relevant than everybody that I know.
Put simply, Squeaky knows what he's doing when he does his dizzle.
Squeaky drives all-wheel-drive European cars, typically station wagons, often Volvos. Wagons are better than sedans because they hold more stuff. Wagons are better than SUVs because they drive like cars, get better fuel economy, and their proportions make them inherently more stylish. We are like-minded in this regard so you know it's the correct thing to do.
For Gheorghemas I gift unto Squeaky his "What car should a Gheorghie drive?" car, a 1994 Volvo 850 T5-R station wagon in Cream Yellow with black interior and a 5-speed manual.
Volvos in general strike a great balance between safety, luxury, and affordability (compared to comparable offerings from other European marques). The T5-R was a special limited edition variant of the 850 that added sportiness and power to the mix. It has a 2.3 liter five cylinder engine making 243 horsepower--Volvo got Porsche to massage the engine, coaxing more than 100 horses per liter out of it. The 850 T5-R was only sold in the US in 1995, so for Squeaky to get a 1994 he would have to buy it overseas and have it imported, which seems like a Squeaky thing to do in order to get the right T5-R. Only 49 Cream Yellow T5-R wagons were brought to the US so Squeaky won't have to worry about seeing another car like his. Here's one in Waalwijk Netherlands available for US import for about $29k. The mileage is a little high but it's remarkably crispy otherwise and my soft spot for pale yellow cars is well documented.
In 1996 they changed the car's name to 805R and eliminated the manual transmission. I couldn't find a video of a T5-R review but here's Motorweek's take on the 850R from 1996.
Merry Gheorghemas!
Wednesday, December 11, 2019
The Twelve Days of Gheorghemas: Day Four
On the fourth day of Gheorghemas, Big Gheorghe gave to me:
Four Players Playing
Three Nutty Squirrels
Two Chilean Bangers
And a British Lass Slingin' Hot Meat (and a Fat Guy in a Sweet T)
Just a short week ago, we took a trip down memory lane to celebrate William & Mary's best men's basketball players of the past decade - the most successful ten-year stretch in school history. Two of the ten Wrens we highlighted were drafted by the Boston Celtics, while several others continued their basketball careers as professionals in far-flung locales.
Today we catch up with a quartet of those pro ballers, spreading the Gospel of the Wren from Israel to Turkey and places in between.
Let's start, as these things often do, with the Sports Rabbi. As you know, and as they advertise, the Rabbi is the ONLY Source for Israeli Sports in English. Bookmark that. Of relevance to our interests, the linked piece on Omar Prewitt, currently averaging 16.7 points per game with Turkish club Bandirma. Prewitt's played in Lithuania, Greece, and Poland since leaving Williamsburg. His move to Bandirma gets him into Basketball Champions League play, the highest echelon of European hoops. Omar geliyor, as the hip kids say.
David Cohn was mentioned in the Sports Rabbi article about Prewitt, as W&M's all-time assist leader plays professionally in Israel for Maccabi Haifa. Cohn's a bit player early in his career, getting 6.5 minutes a game in his second pro season after scoring 1.8 ppg in 8 minutes with Hapoel Eliat as a rookie in Israel's top league.
W&M's best all-court player is one of two Wrens getting paid to play in France, and he's on a French passport to boot. Terry Tarpey won a French Pro A title with Le Mans Sarthe in 2018-19. He's now in his third season at Le Mans, where he's battled injuries but still stuffed the stat sheet this season, getting 7.5 ppg, 4.5 rpg, 1.3 apg, and nearly a steal per game in 23 minutes. His pro career is on a similar trajectory as his collegiate run, so he'll probably own the place in a couple of years.
Omar Prewitt was preceded by a season at Bandirma by the GOAT. Marcus Thornton's now in his fifth season as a professional, having played in Australia, Turkey, and Italy, in addition to a pair of stints in the G League (and a 10-day contract with the Cleveland Cavaliers that ended without Thornton seeing NBA action). Thornton now competes against Tarpey in the French Pro A league as a starting guard for Elan Chalon, where he's averaging 10.2 points, 2 boards, and 2 assists.
We'd be remiss in not at least mentioning Daniel Dixon, who's on the roster for the G League Northern Arizona Suns, but currently injured. That's all we've got to say about that, because saying more means we'd have the wrong day of Gheorghemas. And we've got to honor the rituals.
Four Players Playing
Three Nutty Squirrels
Two Chilean Bangers
And a British Lass Slingin' Hot Meat (and a Fat Guy in a Sweet T)
Just a short week ago, we took a trip down memory lane to celebrate William & Mary's best men's basketball players of the past decade - the most successful ten-year stretch in school history. Two of the ten Wrens we highlighted were drafted by the Boston Celtics, while several others continued their basketball careers as professionals in far-flung locales.
Today we catch up with a quartet of those pro ballers, spreading the Gospel of the Wren from Israel to Turkey and places in between.
Let's start, as these things often do, with the Sports Rabbi. As you know, and as they advertise, the Rabbi is the ONLY Source for Israeli Sports in English. Bookmark that. Of relevance to our interests, the linked piece on Omar Prewitt, currently averaging 16.7 points per game with Turkish club Bandirma. Prewitt's played in Lithuania, Greece, and Poland since leaving Williamsburg. His move to Bandirma gets him into Basketball Champions League play, the highest echelon of European hoops. Omar geliyor, as the hip kids say.David Cohn was mentioned in the Sports Rabbi article about Prewitt, as W&M's all-time assist leader plays professionally in Israel for Maccabi Haifa. Cohn's a bit player early in his career, getting 6.5 minutes a game in his second pro season after scoring 1.8 ppg in 8 minutes with Hapoel Eliat as a rookie in Israel's top league.
W&M's best all-court player is one of two Wrens getting paid to play in France, and he's on a French passport to boot. Terry Tarpey won a French Pro A title with Le Mans Sarthe in 2018-19. He's now in his third season at Le Mans, where he's battled injuries but still stuffed the stat sheet this season, getting 7.5 ppg, 4.5 rpg, 1.3 apg, and nearly a steal per game in 23 minutes. His pro career is on a similar trajectory as his collegiate run, so he'll probably own the place in a couple of years.
Omar Prewitt was preceded by a season at Bandirma by the GOAT. Marcus Thornton's now in his fifth season as a professional, having played in Australia, Turkey, and Italy, in addition to a pair of stints in the G League (and a 10-day contract with the Cleveland Cavaliers that ended without Thornton seeing NBA action). Thornton now competes against Tarpey in the French Pro A league as a starting guard for Elan Chalon, where he's averaging 10.2 points, 2 boards, and 2 assists.
We'd be remiss in not at least mentioning Daniel Dixon, who's on the roster for the G League Northern Arizona Suns, but currently injured. That's all we've got to say about that, because saying more means we'd have the wrong day of Gheorghemas. And we've got to honor the rituals.
Sunday, December 08, 2019
Gheorghemas: Day Three
On the third day of Gheorgemas big Gheorghe gave to me:
Three Nutty Squirrels,
Two Chilean Bangers,
and a British lass slinging hot meat.
Our tiny dictator has recently accused me of trying to overly amortize my time in business school by working finance content into too many conversations. While this is a fair criticism, a recent discussion in school paid off with an insider tip on a product that should be near and dear to the hearts of some Gheorghies and just had to be shared.
As part of an entrepreneurship/branding project, one member of my team brought up a Chinese company that specializes in selling nuts online. The company is called Three Squirrels.
As this article points out, Chinese consumers are "nuts for Three Squirrels" with over $1.5 billion in revenue in 2018. AdAge called them "China's Hottest Snack Brand" and touted their strategy of harnessing the "power of cute".
For obvious reasons, Big Gheorghe thought some Three Squirrel nuts would be the perfect gift for all the Gheorghies.
To top it all off, Three Squirrels recently went public. If your portfolio is in need of re-balancing, and you have a need for Chinese nut focused e-commerce investments, Three Squirrels could just be the perfect fit for you.
Bonus Squirrel Content:
Anybody who has a little squirrel around the house may want to pick up a copy of this magnum opus. Not sure if it made the New York Times Best Sellers list but it looks to be page turner. Maybe Dave can add it to his list for Day Seven.
Three Nutty Squirrels,
Two Chilean Bangers,
and a British lass slinging hot meat.
Our tiny dictator has recently accused me of trying to overly amortize my time in business school by working finance content into too many conversations. While this is a fair criticism, a recent discussion in school paid off with an insider tip on a product that should be near and dear to the hearts of some Gheorghies and just had to be shared.
As part of an entrepreneurship/branding project, one member of my team brought up a Chinese company that specializes in selling nuts online. The company is called Three Squirrels.
As this article points out, Chinese consumers are "nuts for Three Squirrels" with over $1.5 billion in revenue in 2018. AdAge called them "China's Hottest Snack Brand" and touted their strategy of harnessing the "power of cute".
 |
| Yep, that's a castle made of nuts. |
To top it all off, Three Squirrels recently went public. If your portfolio is in need of re-balancing, and you have a need for Chinese nut focused e-commerce investments, Three Squirrels could just be the perfect fit for you.
Bonus Squirrel Content:
Anybody who has a little squirrel around the house may want to pick up a copy of this magnum opus. Not sure if it made the New York Times Best Sellers list but it looks to be page turner. Maybe Dave can add it to his list for Day Seven.
They even appear to have companion giving season to Gheorghemas.
Merry Gheorgemas one and all!
Friday, December 06, 2019
Get Up and Dance: Holiday Version
I don't know if there's a non-holiday version, but we need some filler, and we need some fun. Three Fridays until Christmas, Gheorghies. Get some whimsy.
Wednesday, December 04, 2019
The Twelve Days of Gheorghemas: Day 2
On the second day of Gheorghemas
Big Gheorghe gave to me
Two Chilean bangers (literally)
And a British lass slingin' hot meat
I want to beat the drum (and a casserole pan) to raise awareness of a profoundly powerful (and cute - sorry I'm a guy after all) Chilean hip-hop performer. The woman is Ana Tijoux. She was born in France to Chilean parents exiled under the Pinochet dictatorship. She returned in the 80's and has been huge in her native Chile for much of this century, and she kicks ass. So it's worth shining a spotlight on a couple of her tunes.
The first song I want to highlight is called 1977 (year she was born). The song was introduced to me (and most of you) via Breaking Bad. The song was the score to a fun Aaron Paul/Jonathan Banks montage. The montage showing the song is below. The tune and video compliment each other well. The official video, which has the full version is here. The song is catchy as hell.
The second song is much newer. It's called Cacerolazo, which all you Spanish scholars know as the word for a casserole pot. The song came out a couple months ago and has been the soundtrack of the growing social unrest from Chile's working class population, which has grown tired of rising costs for basic public services. I'll spare the historical deep-dive, but there are millions of folks protesting in Chile about the impact that higher-cost basic services are having on their life. Working class men, women and children have been out in the streets banging pots and pans during their protests. The citizens have actually been doing much more than just banging pots, as the video below shows.
In making the track, Ana Tijoux recorded the pot-banging noises, as well as police siren noises, and used them both. Pretty simple and powerful way to convey the angst and fury among a population facing growing income inequality. Chuck D would be proud.
Here is a rough translation of the lyrics to this song:
Burn it, wake up
Resign, Piñera [Chile’s president]
To the Alameda [a main street in Santiago]
Ours is La Moneda [the presidential palace bombed in 1973]
Wooden spoons facing your bullets
And the curfew? Carcelorazo!
It is not thirty pesos [the metro fare increase], it is thirty years
The constitution, and the Perdonazo [a taxation change that benefited the richest Chileans]
With fist and spoon facing the system
And all of the State, cacerolazo!
Listen, neighbor, increase the fuel,
And the barricades? Give it gas!
With lids, with pans, facing the clowns
The revolt has arrived, and the cacerolazo!
Big Gheorghe gave to me
Two Chilean bangers (literally)
And a British lass slingin' hot meat
I want to beat the drum (and a casserole pan) to raise awareness of a profoundly powerful (and cute - sorry I'm a guy after all) Chilean hip-hop performer. The woman is Ana Tijoux. She was born in France to Chilean parents exiled under the Pinochet dictatorship. She returned in the 80's and has been huge in her native Chile for much of this century, and she kicks ass. So it's worth shining a spotlight on a couple of her tunes.
The first song I want to highlight is called 1977 (year she was born). The song was introduced to me (and most of you) via Breaking Bad. The song was the score to a fun Aaron Paul/Jonathan Banks montage. The montage showing the song is below. The tune and video compliment each other well. The official video, which has the full version is here. The song is catchy as hell.
The second song is much newer. It's called Cacerolazo, which all you Spanish scholars know as the word for a casserole pot. The song came out a couple months ago and has been the soundtrack of the growing social unrest from Chile's working class population, which has grown tired of rising costs for basic public services. I'll spare the historical deep-dive, but there are millions of folks protesting in Chile about the impact that higher-cost basic services are having on their life. Working class men, women and children have been out in the streets banging pots and pans during their protests. The citizens have actually been doing much more than just banging pots, as the video below shows.
In making the track, Ana Tijoux recorded the pot-banging noises, as well as police siren noises, and used them both. Pretty simple and powerful way to convey the angst and fury among a population facing growing income inequality. Chuck D would be proud.
Here is a rough translation of the lyrics to this song:
Burn it, wake up
Resign, Piñera [Chile’s president]
To the Alameda [a main street in Santiago]
Ours is La Moneda [the presidential palace bombed in 1973]
Wooden spoons facing your bullets
And the curfew? Carcelorazo!
It is not thirty pesos [the metro fare increase], it is thirty years
The constitution, and the Perdonazo [a taxation change that benefited the richest Chileans]
With fist and spoon facing the system
And all of the State, cacerolazo!
Listen, neighbor, increase the fuel,
And the barricades? Give it gas!
With lids, with pans, facing the clowns
The revolt has arrived, and the cacerolazo!
Tuesday, December 03, 2019
The Twelve Days of Gheorghemas: Day 1
Gheorghemas Day 1 Procrastination, a tradition unlike any other.
The GTB editorial staff is chomping at the bit to spread some Gheorghemas cheer, and here I was holding up the fun. But no more. Onward to the most wonderful time of the year!
On the first day of Gheorghemas
Big Gheorghe gave to me
A British lass slingin' hot meat
Bonus Gheorghemas content, because my public demands it:
"A fat guy in a sweet T"
The GTB editorial staff is chomping at the bit to spread some Gheorghemas cheer, and here I was holding up the fun. But no more. Onward to the most wonderful time of the year!
On the first day of Gheorghemas
Big Gheorghe gave to me
A British lass slingin' hot meat
Bonus Gheorghemas content, because my public demands it:
"A fat guy in a sweet T"
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