Watch Brandon explain it all, from passion for his mother, to his admiration of VHS tapes...
Wednesday, January 2, 2013
Tuesday, December 18, 2012
Relax, don't do it, when you want to go to it!
I'm not worried about the Texas Rangers. I'm hearing a lot of moaning and whining here in Dallas about how the front office MUST make a move.
"We haven't done anything!"
"We didn't add anyone!"
"All we did was lose players!"
"How are we going to replace 40 home runs?!"
"We don't have anybody, Jon Daniels is being too conservative."
Hold your horses there pal. This is the time of youth. Any obsessive Ranger fan would know very well about the exciting prospects that the Rangers have been holding onto for years. One reason Daniels has not acquired any big names in trades is because the rest of the league covets our young players. I think the Rangers have the big cards in most would-be deals, and the front office simply isn't willing to give up these talented prospects, and I'm happy with that. The Texas Rangers are still a great ball club, with or without Josh Hamilton; with or without Mike Napoli. I love stats and will use them to make my argument here.
Of the guys that played full time last season, the Texas Rangers still have:
Adrián Beltré>> 95R 36HR 102RBI .321BA .921OBPS (Age 33)
Elvia Andrus>> 85R 9HR 62RBI 21SB .286BA .727OBPS (Age 24)
Ian Kinsler>> 105R 19HR 72RBI 21SB .256BA .749OBPS (Age 30)
Nelson Cruz>> 86R 24HR 90RBI 8SB .260BA .779OBPS (Age 32)
These players alone churn out plenty of batting power to propel any offense, and I will add 3 things: One, that Kinsler had a significant down season in offensive production, in 2011 he had 121R 32HR 89BB 30SB and had a whopping .832 OBPS...two, that Nelson Cruz always has the potential to be a 30HR 100RBI .850OBPS guy...and three, that the 33-year-old Adrián Beltré is the oldest player in the order (which means this is a young lineup).
Recall the time after the 2011 season when C.J. Wilson left, and there was this worry about the starting rotation losing their "Ace". The Rangers younger pitchers stepped up and filled the role, Matt Harrison and Yu Darvish--both of which were All-Stars--more than made up for Wilson's vacancy. I believe that the same is going to be true for the lineup.
Let us also take a look at the numbers of the guys who shared time last season that will now see more action without Josh Hamilton and Mike Napoli.
Craig Gentry>> [240 at bats] 31R 1HR 26RBI 13SB .304BA .367OBP (Age 29)
David Murphy>> [457 at bats] 65R 15HR 61RBI .304BA .380OBP .859OBPS (Age 31)
Mitch Moreland>> [327 at bats] 41R 15HR 50RBI 275BA .789OBPS (Age 27)
What we can see is some good batting averages here and superb OBP/OBPS. For hypothetical purposes, we can assume that these guys will see more at bats barring injury, which means we can assume (I know what you may be thinking about ass-u-me) that Moreland could be a 30HR 100RBI player with a healthy wrist, Gentry could be a 75R 30SB threat on the bases, and Murphy...well he can just keep doing what he did last year and that would be fantastic.
I'm content with this core, and I haven't even touched on what makes my nipples hard about next season...Prospects!
In 2013 we can expect, among others, to see more 24 year-old Mike Olt, 19 year-old Jurickson Profar, and 24 year-old Leonys Martin.
Mike Olt>> [354 at bats in AA] 65R 28HR 82RBI .288BA .398OBP .977OBPS
Jurickson Profar>> [480 at bats in AA] 76R 14HR 62RBI 16SB .281BA .368OBP .820OBPS
Leonys Martin>> [231 at bats in AAA] 48R 12HR 42RBI 10SB .359BA .422OBP 1.033OBPS
Strikeouts are a worry for Olt, he struck out 101 times in 354 at bats in AA for 2012, and 13 times in his 33 MLB at bats. But the potential upside is there for power with him--and all of these guys; they will fill the offensive production left by Hamilton and Napoli. Granted, their numbers are from the minors...but granted-ed they are very very young. They will grow, and they will learn. I think the key is that if these guys show that they can get on base in 2013, then they will be successful and things will take care of itself.
Alas, I am not worried about the lack of deals made by the Texas Rangers' front office this offseason. The team has the tools to win, and they will truly be a competitive club as it is. Besides, I trust Jon Daniels. After all, he's helped get this team to where they are with the recent success, so do you really have much ground to make a fuss because you disagree with the job he is doing? I'm inclined to believe he and his staff have far more expertise on the franchise than any of us.
Wednesday, November 7, 2012
Have a seat, let me tell you a story...
It was a Saturday night in autumn. I almost always went out every non-school night back then, but this particular night I couldn't find anything to do. If I'm not mistaken my roommates and closest friends were too hungover from the night before, so I was on my own if I was going to do anything. Back then it used to eat at me when I didn't go out on the weekend because I always felt like I was missing out on something.
At times like that I would reach outward from my circle of good friends to lesser-friends and acquaintances, and this night it happened that one of those outer-circlings was having her birthday party at her house. I knew her and her roommates for a few years by then, as far back as freshman year, and even one of them from college orientation. I knew that they partied hard, they were lustful, and fairly attractive and thus, would be able to pull a good party. Cute girls can always host and throw a good party. Guys flocked to that, not only for the hostesses, but because of their friends. Hell, I was one of them. And it's a simple fact that females feel more comfortable going to a party at a girl's house than a guys in the first place, but females tend to have more female friends, and are usually more generous with their booze. Needless to say, I didn't have to be begged to want to go as there were perks.
However, a couple of things made me think of just staying in and watching a movie: one being that none of my close friends was going. To some people that doesn't matter but to a house party where you may know no one but the wasted hostesses this fact can be discouraging. The other thing was that one of the hostesses, Rachel, had always had a crush on me and was always relentless...no relentless is too subtle, ravenous maybe, to get me in bed. Now I have a strange conscience in comparison to some males, and I am turned off by a girl throwing herself at me and being strongly aggressive (unless she's my girl). Furthermore, I knew all too well that she slept around quite a bit, and we had this goofy relationship where she would tell me her "count" every so often through our college careers. It seemed in a way like a goal for her. I think that she was simply a nympho, she talked about sex openly quite a bit in a very confident way. But it wasn't just her, it was her roommate Noelle as well. They were both very notorious among people that knew them for being sexually strong personalities with bisexual undertones. Overtones? I don't know, I just remember that they talked of their exploits with both genders with bravado.
I think that it drove her crazy that I would never sleep with her, and would repeatedly turn her down time after time. It's not that she was ugly, but she wasn't gorgeous either, it was just that there was no sacredness to her with the act of sex, and there was for me.
I thought about the prospect of going a little more, and the most obvious and legit reason for going dawned on me: It was my friend Noelle's birthday. A good friend, no matter where in the circle of friends, is still a friend and should make the effort when they can. It took me long enough to think of that, but at least the thought came. Lacing up my trusty addidas, I threw on my usual t-shirt and jeans and headed out the door solo, grabbing my you'll-never-see-Ryan-without-it red jacket. It was November and I remember that the Missouri air had a remarkable crisp feeling to it, the girls lived in a residential area south of campus, so it was about a half-mile walk for me from my apartment. The autumn air gave me a boost, and I suddenly felt excited during my trek that this could be a fun night.
Everyone who has approached a party at night can imagine that sense of curiosity upon seeing the event: hearing the jolly hum of many voices talking over each other at once from one compact location, echoing off the street and nearby houses...the warm glow of the party, lit up to project the number of persons crowded into a house...the lines of cars framing the event by proximity, while a couple or two might be outside or on the phone having those unfortunately familiar arguments about their relationship.
I walked up the steps and squeezed my way through to the mass of people, all unfamiliar faces until recognizing the screech of Rachel as she bullied her way through her party to grab me and give me a hug. It was actually a relief to be embraced in that situation, so I gave her a grin and played a few flirtatious cards.
I wanted a drink. Then again, she wanted to give me a drink. She always did. She had tried many times to do what guys usually do for girls: give them plenty of alcohol in hopes that there will be some less-than-conscious decisions. Honest mistakes if you will. Funny isn't it? One individual doesn't think the other person will like them enough to sleep with them sober with their own will, so they hope they will "earn" the other person under the influence. Yet it is a tried and true practice, and maybe people just ultimately want to have sex with each other, but getting rid of their inner inhibitions with alcohol is a precise ritual to make it happen.
Anyways vodka and ice, I don't recall how many, mixed in with a beer here and there as the night went on. I met much of the unfamiliar crowd and made some one-night friends. I played Jenga, kissed a strange girl on a dare, made a temporary name for myself as an expert on screw-drivers after making one for the birthday girl, and found myself smiling and laughing. The time flies during that part of a party. 3 hours feels like 30 minutes. And thank God there was still a sense of self-awareness in me a few hours later as the party died down.
The celebration had hit it's lull. The majority of the party had left, though there were still 15 people or so going strong, mostly guys still trying to impress and flirt with the last hand full of ladies after the dust had settled and the competition waned. My own flirtatious machinations had found me in the section of Noel and Rachel's rooms and their bathroom, which was sealed off by a single door that led to the rest of the house. At first it was me simply me using the bathroom and then playing with the music stereo in Rachel's room that projected to the rest of the house. Then Noelle came in closed the door, turned me around from the stereo and kissed me.
It was Noel's birthday's so I felt that this was proper. She was the prettiest of the roommates and had a great athletic body, she was a dancer and actress for the university theater I recall. So I was doing my due diligence. Indeed, I liked it and went with it, who wouldn't? Well I'll tell you who also wouldn't: Rachel. She followed into the room a couple minutes later, shutting the door behind her as well, grabbing Noelle, calling her a slut in a teasing fashion, and began kissing her. So there I was, exchanging kisses with both of them. I had tunnel vision, my sobriety was on the verge of blacking out and all I could see was the prospect in front of me that was going to unfold.
They began to take off a few articles of each other's clothes; me only relinquishing my jacket. The pressure was on, I turned to Rachel and said "Wait." when she started pulling at my belt buckle. I walked into their shared bathroom and closed the door to their giggling and heckling. I didn't have to pee. I had to find my soul. I put my hands on the sink and stared at myself in the mirror and asked myself "Can I do this?" I played out a few scenes of action that would come out of the next few minutes, then the next hour, and then...what! What would happen then? I somehow gained a bit of my senses back, likely because of the gravity of the situation. I thought about what the morning would be like after this. I thought about the boldness and lack of boundaries that these two girls had. I thought about the STD's that they likely had. In that moment, the thought of the pleasure, brag-rights, manliness, fantasy, and sexual tension were only whispers.
I looked at the door with it's old-fashioned hook-lock and thought of the motion of me unfastening it and heading back out to meet them. I looked at myself in the mirror again and said to myself "Nope, this is not you Ryan. We can't do this." The only way out from here was the window, which I threw open to my disappointment to find a permanent screen. Noelle began knocking at the door and teasing me about coming out and being "ready for her" Whatever did that mean? I punched the screen and it broke perfectly at a right angle in the corner of the frame. I began to tear out an exact square that matched the window. No one would notice. Or at least that's how it looked in my drunken mind. I finally had the square out and moved to put myself through the window, to only realize that the door still locked, and with that latch it would be impossible for anyone to get into the bathroom after my escape.
As silently as possible I unhooked the latch and put myself in the window, one leg over first to find something to hold my weight outside the sill. I found nothing, and realized that this old house's first floor window was a good 7 feet from the ground because of the basement. I began to shift my body out of the window to where I could dangle myself from the bottom of the frame, but before I could get my second leg out a brief two knocks came at the door and the knob began to turn. I threw myself out of the window and waited for the ground to meet me. I landed in the dark yard, made soft my grass, dead leaves, and adrenaline. I heard a questioning voice inside, and looked up at the window to find myself basically in the square of light reflecting from inside. I quickly rolled out of the way into the darkness and ran.
After about 80 yards from the spot of my fall I began to laugh. I don't think I could have had a more stupid grin on my face as I walked the rest of the way home.
At times like that I would reach outward from my circle of good friends to lesser-friends and acquaintances, and this night it happened that one of those outer-circlings was having her birthday party at her house. I knew her and her roommates for a few years by then, as far back as freshman year, and even one of them from college orientation. I knew that they partied hard, they were lustful, and fairly attractive and thus, would be able to pull a good party. Cute girls can always host and throw a good party. Guys flocked to that, not only for the hostesses, but because of their friends. Hell, I was one of them. And it's a simple fact that females feel more comfortable going to a party at a girl's house than a guys in the first place, but females tend to have more female friends, and are usually more generous with their booze. Needless to say, I didn't have to be begged to want to go as there were perks.
However, a couple of things made me think of just staying in and watching a movie: one being that none of my close friends was going. To some people that doesn't matter but to a house party where you may know no one but the wasted hostesses this fact can be discouraging. The other thing was that one of the hostesses, Rachel, had always had a crush on me and was always relentless...no relentless is too subtle, ravenous maybe, to get me in bed. Now I have a strange conscience in comparison to some males, and I am turned off by a girl throwing herself at me and being strongly aggressive (unless she's my girl). Furthermore, I knew all too well that she slept around quite a bit, and we had this goofy relationship where she would tell me her "count" every so often through our college careers. It seemed in a way like a goal for her. I think that she was simply a nympho, she talked about sex openly quite a bit in a very confident way. But it wasn't just her, it was her roommate Noelle as well. They were both very notorious among people that knew them for being sexually strong personalities with bisexual undertones. Overtones? I don't know, I just remember that they talked of their exploits with both genders with bravado.
I think that it drove her crazy that I would never sleep with her, and would repeatedly turn her down time after time. It's not that she was ugly, but she wasn't gorgeous either, it was just that there was no sacredness to her with the act of sex, and there was for me.
I thought about the prospect of going a little more, and the most obvious and legit reason for going dawned on me: It was my friend Noelle's birthday. A good friend, no matter where in the circle of friends, is still a friend and should make the effort when they can. It took me long enough to think of that, but at least the thought came. Lacing up my trusty addidas, I threw on my usual t-shirt and jeans and headed out the door solo, grabbing my you'll-never-see-Ryan-without-it red jacket. It was November and I remember that the Missouri air had a remarkable crisp feeling to it, the girls lived in a residential area south of campus, so it was about a half-mile walk for me from my apartment. The autumn air gave me a boost, and I suddenly felt excited during my trek that this could be a fun night.
Everyone who has approached a party at night can imagine that sense of curiosity upon seeing the event: hearing the jolly hum of many voices talking over each other at once from one compact location, echoing off the street and nearby houses...the warm glow of the party, lit up to project the number of persons crowded into a house...the lines of cars framing the event by proximity, while a couple or two might be outside or on the phone having those unfortunately familiar arguments about their relationship.
I walked up the steps and squeezed my way through to the mass of people, all unfamiliar faces until recognizing the screech of Rachel as she bullied her way through her party to grab me and give me a hug. It was actually a relief to be embraced in that situation, so I gave her a grin and played a few flirtatious cards.
I wanted a drink. Then again, she wanted to give me a drink. She always did. She had tried many times to do what guys usually do for girls: give them plenty of alcohol in hopes that there will be some less-than-conscious decisions. Honest mistakes if you will. Funny isn't it? One individual doesn't think the other person will like them enough to sleep with them sober with their own will, so they hope they will "earn" the other person under the influence. Yet it is a tried and true practice, and maybe people just ultimately want to have sex with each other, but getting rid of their inner inhibitions with alcohol is a precise ritual to make it happen.
Anyways vodka and ice, I don't recall how many, mixed in with a beer here and there as the night went on. I met much of the unfamiliar crowd and made some one-night friends. I played Jenga, kissed a strange girl on a dare, made a temporary name for myself as an expert on screw-drivers after making one for the birthday girl, and found myself smiling and laughing. The time flies during that part of a party. 3 hours feels like 30 minutes. And thank God there was still a sense of self-awareness in me a few hours later as the party died down.
The celebration had hit it's lull. The majority of the party had left, though there were still 15 people or so going strong, mostly guys still trying to impress and flirt with the last hand full of ladies after the dust had settled and the competition waned. My own flirtatious machinations had found me in the section of Noel and Rachel's rooms and their bathroom, which was sealed off by a single door that led to the rest of the house. At first it was me simply me using the bathroom and then playing with the music stereo in Rachel's room that projected to the rest of the house. Then Noelle came in closed the door, turned me around from the stereo and kissed me.
It was Noel's birthday's so I felt that this was proper. She was the prettiest of the roommates and had a great athletic body, she was a dancer and actress for the university theater I recall. So I was doing my due diligence. Indeed, I liked it and went with it, who wouldn't? Well I'll tell you who also wouldn't: Rachel. She followed into the room a couple minutes later, shutting the door behind her as well, grabbing Noelle, calling her a slut in a teasing fashion, and began kissing her. So there I was, exchanging kisses with both of them. I had tunnel vision, my sobriety was on the verge of blacking out and all I could see was the prospect in front of me that was going to unfold.
They began to take off a few articles of each other's clothes; me only relinquishing my jacket. The pressure was on, I turned to Rachel and said "Wait." when she started pulling at my belt buckle. I walked into their shared bathroom and closed the door to their giggling and heckling. I didn't have to pee. I had to find my soul. I put my hands on the sink and stared at myself in the mirror and asked myself "Can I do this?" I played out a few scenes of action that would come out of the next few minutes, then the next hour, and then...what! What would happen then? I somehow gained a bit of my senses back, likely because of the gravity of the situation. I thought about what the morning would be like after this. I thought about the boldness and lack of boundaries that these two girls had. I thought about the STD's that they likely had. In that moment, the thought of the pleasure, brag-rights, manliness, fantasy, and sexual tension were only whispers.
I looked at the door with it's old-fashioned hook-lock and thought of the motion of me unfastening it and heading back out to meet them. I looked at myself in the mirror again and said to myself "Nope, this is not you Ryan. We can't do this." The only way out from here was the window, which I threw open to my disappointment to find a permanent screen. Noelle began knocking at the door and teasing me about coming out and being "ready for her" Whatever did that mean? I punched the screen and it broke perfectly at a right angle in the corner of the frame. I began to tear out an exact square that matched the window. No one would notice. Or at least that's how it looked in my drunken mind. I finally had the square out and moved to put myself through the window, to only realize that the door still locked, and with that latch it would be impossible for anyone to get into the bathroom after my escape.
As silently as possible I unhooked the latch and put myself in the window, one leg over first to find something to hold my weight outside the sill. I found nothing, and realized that this old house's first floor window was a good 7 feet from the ground because of the basement. I began to shift my body out of the window to where I could dangle myself from the bottom of the frame, but before I could get my second leg out a brief two knocks came at the door and the knob began to turn. I threw myself out of the window and waited for the ground to meet me. I landed in the dark yard, made soft my grass, dead leaves, and adrenaline. I heard a questioning voice inside, and looked up at the window to find myself basically in the square of light reflecting from inside. I quickly rolled out of the way into the darkness and ran.
After about 80 yards from the spot of my fall I began to laugh. I don't think I could have had a more stupid grin on my face as I walked the rest of the way home.
Tuesday, October 16, 2012
Thursday, September 20, 2012
Raj IPA
Raj IPA
Well well, don't we love our IPAs here. I know a little about Four Peaks Brewery in Arizona because Brooks and I have effing been there and tried this right out of Schut's faucet. However it was only until recently that I came across this beer in Dallas and was reminded that I should write a little about it.
But let me tell you that it isn't amazing. I am probably a jerk when it comes to compliments on IPAs because I drink them all the time, yet still don't get me wrong this is worth a try. After all, this is my opinion. Therefore I can say whatever I want. I can say you're a dumb face. Now, back to the Raj, it's dry like an IPA should be, and it's also strong at 6.9% and leaves a good aftertaste that is not overly bitter. It's not fruity, though I've read other people say that, which to me is cliche because everyone likes to use that adjective to describe an IPA as a compliment. I didn't find any reminders of fruit in this ale, and in fact the smell if anything was a nice, crisp surprise: it was simply fresh.
Before you raise the glass up to your mouth the smell has an appeal to it that I liken to water, which makes your mouth want to take it down in satiating gulps. Drinkability here is on another level. Four Peaks Brewery should also get props because they sell it at their bar in Tempe. I have a great respect for Breweries who have made it to the point of brewing in the back and putting their product right over the counter in front. I give this a 7/10.
Monday, August 20, 2012
Here is a Concert
http://spune.com/index-festival/ POW POW
And here are some song samples of each of the bands playing on Saturday here in Dallas at Trees...just so we know what to expect. Did I just look up the first thing that came up on YouTube for each band and ctrl-c ctrl-v my way into blog content? Maybe. Did it take actually a surprising amount of time? Perhaps. Was it worth it? Yes.
I haven't heard of Dale Earnhardt Jr Jr or DIIV, and am now glad I know about them. Silly little point but it does seem to matter...I have confirmed that I like them, and want to hear more. (*Adds variety to Pandora)
Cold War kids
Washed Out
Surfer Blood
Dale Earnhardt Jr Jr
DIIV
Telegraph Canyon
Well, that's Saturday...and the one I am most interested in. You can invest in Friday and look up the bands yourself. I'm not your bloody blogger butler.
Wednesday, August 8, 2012
Yes-in-fucking-deed!
It's true, humans can truly be happy. I am sure of it; I think it's happened to me.
'Things' aren't going to be great for many of us humans, and especially never all at the same time, but there comes a point where many of big 'things' are going wonderfully...so much that, it snubs all the lesser-negatives.
Right now in my continual bliss, I have realized just how unhappy and unsatisfied I had been. I can see that now because of how positive and content I am with 'things' today. How did I get there? I don't know, piss off. I don't have answers. I tried to stay as optimistic as I could and just kept fighting the good fight. Due-diligence and part-and-parcel efforts to get what I wanted. Maybe that's the formula?
What I do know, is that I can't give myself much of the credit. In life, there is good fortune and serendipity that create successes, but can we attribute so much of it to that? Is some of it God? Is it just arbitrary blessings? Is it all God? I also know that as a rational human being, good things happening in my life make me feel happiness, and indeed, that is happening. But what I am finding now is that I feel this awe and gratitude for everything in my life--both positive and negative. If I am happy not only in my emotions, but in my heart, then I feel like by default I have to attribute it to something bigger and unfathomable. If I am thankful for the obstacles and struggles that I face, something seemingly non-human has changed in my logic. I then find it not only necessary as a Christian, but very reasonable as a human to give credit and praise to God for the blessings that I have.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)