The Red Sox Season is Done So I’m Officially a Bruins Guy Now

NHL: Calgary Flames at Boston Bruins

So here’s the deal: yesterday I wrote a piece (if you’re a real journalist like I am, you call your job your “craft” and everything you write is a “piece”) about how the Red Sox/Yankees rivalry is back and the critical role drama plays in sports.

Well guess what? I’m taking everything back. The Sox SUCK and everything I thought to be true was wrong. On opening day, Joe Kelly threw batting practice in the 8th and the Sox gave up 6 runs to blow a 4-0 lead. Not to mention Giancarlo Stanton hit about 40 home runs in his first game as a Yankee. In other words, the season’s over. Stick a fork in it, we’re done.

That said, if you’re a Boston sports fan, there is hope. The Bruins rolled the best team in the Atlantic Division last night and I couldn’t be more happy. Fuck baseball. Who needs it when you have the blue collar, middle America, 9-5, boot straps, tooth and nail, steak and eggs sport of hockey to watch.

And I’ve always been a HUGE Bruins fan. Ask anybody. I watch basically every playoff game and even used to play goalie during street hockey in 5th grade (fun fact: I went by the alias of Russian goaltender, Hoviak Sloviak). So yeah, I basically know all the rules of the game and I think it’s time to answer the question everyone’s asking: “Joe, are you the biggest hockey fan of all time?”

Now listen, I would never say that because I have to upmost respect for past hockey fans. The dirt diggers that paved the way for my fandom. They are the real heroes who allow us to root with pride, and not in the shadowed alleyways of Southie. Boston has always been—and always will be—a hockey town. It’s that simple.

So seeing how this group of gutsy young talent is playing, it’s something I don’t want to follow; it’s something I NEED to follow. Hockey runs in my blood. I live for the game. I live to say things like “put pucks on net” or “this team needs to start hitting” or “playoff hockey is a completely different game.”

I need that, and with this team, I’ll get that #LucicCrew

People Who Say They Don’t Like Drama Aren’t Sports Fans

sox yanks

A common sentiment a lot of guys like to assert is that they aren’t into “drama.” They don’t like it. They don’t enjoy it. They stay away from drama. It’s a waste of their time. Well I’m here to tell you that any sports fan who has ever said that is a complete fucking liar.

We as humans are complex creatures with simple pleasures. We love drama. We feed off it. It’s the same thing when people claim they don’t watch porn. I’m just sitting there like, “Well, it’s a billion dollar industry. Someone’s watching it…”

With drama, no one wants to say they love it but everyone flocks to it. It’s the reason why sports are interesting. The Miracle on Ice is most likely the biggest upset of all time, but you know what gave it so much juice? The sociopolitical context of it all. That’s drama. That’s the kind of stuff that floods the bleachers.

Take the Patriots/Colts midseason match-up a couple years ago that ended up drawing monumental ratings. Granted, it featured New England (a major football market) in primetime but make no mistake, people weren’t watching that game exclusively for the football. It was the season after the whole DeflateGate saga and people were tuning in to see if the Pats could blow the doors off Lucas Oil Stadium and beat the breaks off Indy’s secondary.

Take the whole Tonya Harding/Nancy Kerrigan scandal. I don’t do research for these blogs because I do them on break but I’m sure that finals still ranks up as one of the most watched sporting events in Olympic history. And that was women’s figure skating. Let me repeat that for you: women’s figure skating. In other words, no one, and I mean NO ONE, was flipping NBC on that night to see a triple axel. They ambushed bars across the country to see the claws come out.

So with all that in mind, this is the first Opening Day in a LONG time where I’m actually excited. Why? Well because the Yankees are back. They have at least 3+ guys in the lineup who could record 40+ piss rockets this year and—as a Sox fan—baseball is always better when the Evil Empire is, well, the Evil Empire.

I found myself talking shit to my buddy (Yankees fan) the other day and it warmed my heart. It brought me back the the pre-2008 days where the rivalry meant something. When you had guys you could sink your teeth into and hate. Guys that moved the needle. Guys like Alex Rodriguez.

So yeah, the rivalry is back; hence, baseball is back and I couldn’t be any happier. Say what you want, but there are few things in sports better than playoff baseball. It’s a sport where the dynamic of a game can literally change in a millisecond. Draw that anxiety out over the course of a 4-hour marathon playoff game and you have yourself a moment. Go baseball, go…

Is It Possible to be “Too Smart”?


So here’s the deal: as most of you guys know, I’m a guy who’s constantly looking for an edge. I subscribe to the Bill Belichick school of winning. At all fucking costs. If you have to cheat, then you cheat, which is why I’ve been looking for ways to enhance my already gigantic brain. This excursion has led me to stumble upon Optimind.

Basically, Optimind is a product made by Alternascript. Alternascript is a big brain company. They work with science and shit. They conduct cutting-edge nueroscience based studies (if you have to ask what those are then you’re an idiot and should probably blindfold yourself and walk through a crowded intersection).

So yeah, I accepted a free trial of these supplements/capsules/pill things and I got my shipment yesterday. I took two today (as opposed to the 1 they suggest) because I’m not some soft serve cuck. So far, I have noticed a slight difference. This is no placebo we’re talking about here. My brain feels huge.

Now, I know what you’re saying to yourself: “But Joe, your brain is already gigantic. It can barely fit inside your skull already. Don’t you think taking these brain pills could make you too smart?”

Well yes, that thought has passed through my gigantic brain since I ordered these last week but you know what? That’s a risk I’m willing to take. I’m trying to bypass the whole “rags” aspect of the plight and jump straight to the “riches” phase. I’m trying to speed up my ascent to world domination and if these pills can help, you can bet your ass I’ll give it a shot.

And I’m not sure where this train is headed. I really don’t. In a week, there’s a chance I’ll develop telepathic abilities—abilities I’ll utilize to hack into smaller, weaker brains and infiltrate the masses. Hell, I may be able to move mountains with my mind before my next shipment comes in.

In the words of Dr. Ian Malcolm from Jurassic Park, “your scientists were so preoccupied with whether or not they could, they didn’t stop to think if they should.” In other words, Alternascript is officially on the hot seat. Hell, I may pull a Robert California, show up to Alternascript next week and walk out the CEO. Limitless, baby…

Is This Stormy Daniels “Controversy” Fake News? An Investigative Report

trump and stormy

Alright, I’m just going to be honest here: Over the last 6-8 months, I’ve developed a love/hate relationship with the Internet. I love the Internet because it provides me with stuff like lemon cake pop recipes and Vietnamese midget porn but I also hate it because it provides a foundation for places like MSNBC to stretch out non-stories.

The example I’m using here is this Stormy Daniels Trump “controversy.” Now, I don’t subscribe to the whole “fake news” ideology but like anything that Trump ever says, there’s at least a grain of truth in there.

The media sucks, and it’s getting to the point where I—as the Internet’s blue blooded, middle America, 9-5, boot straps, tooth and nail, steak and eggs bastion of truth—need to toss in the ole’ 2 cents.

Say what you want about Trump, but is this really news? Just because you’re a major media market with an axe to grind, doesn’t mean you have the right to narcissistically spew/drag out your agenda to the masses to milk a periodical into a month-long controversy.

There have been roughly 5 separate terrorist attacks on our soil over the last month and a half and the top story on CNN and MSNBC has concerned consensual sex Trump had over a decade ago. Like really?

Evidently, Daniels has dick pics, which is a tough one. On one hand, I think this whole “controversy” is absolutely insane; on the other hand, I want to see what Trump’s wheeling into the oval office with on a regular basis. I mean, have you seen that guy’s hands? They’re HUGE. Way bigger and more superior than the tiny, prepubescent mitts of Crazy Joe Biden and Little Marco. Their hands would cower in the presence of Trump’s hammer fists.

So yeah, if there’s anything I would like to see come out of this story, it’s the dick pic. And it has nothing to do with being gay. Like I’ve said, everyone’s deepthroated a couple dudes before when they were drunk. Everyone. That’s just college. No blood, no foul…

The March Madness “I Called It” Guys Are The Absolute WORST…


It’s here. The time is now. March Madness is upon us.

As I’m typing this, it’s 9 AM on Thursday but by the time it’s published (I’m assuming 3 or 4), that weird dude on the second floor of your office—the one who insists on eating pudding for lunch everyday—will be making the rounds throughout the building, chatting it up with Margaret in accounting about how his bracket is “Sooo busted.” It’s pretty safe to say that guy sucks, but you know what doesn’t suck?

My annual rant on why the “I called it” guy needs to shut the fuck up…

With all things considered, filling out a successful March Madness bracket is predicated EXCLUSIVELY on luck. Anyone who says otherwise is either:

a.) Desperately attempting to justify a bachelor’s degree in broadcast journalism
b.) A pretentious dirtbag

When you think about it, there’s a reason for Selection Sunday. There’s a reason why experts have been sorting through shooting percentages, plus/minuses, and [insert ridiculous sabermetric] since last November.

There’s a reason for those little superscripts next to every eligible team’s designation. It’s because, according to the people who dedicate their entire existence to college basketball, that’s how the bracket should ultimately turn out. Those are the teams that, most sensibly, should win the tournament.

So yeah, the people who decide on this stuff know what they’re doing. While you’re pulverizing an Excel spreadsheet, their 50-hour workweek is spent in some closet analyzing the average 3PT shot trajectory of New Mexico State’s backcourt. These guys know what they’re talking about.

Therefore, I’m fine with people ironically bragging about hitting a major upset, but don’t try to tell me you “called it.” That’s like me claiming I meant to hit bullseye post-12 AM at the local dive bar. Simply put, there’s no rational explanation for how a team like Loyola bruised their way to the Final Four last year—NONE—so unless you have a crystal ball, stay off my Internet.

INCOMING: BONUS HOT TAKE (thank me for my service)

I’m sorry, but I also have to talk about the soft serve, candy-coated cowards who fill out roughly 30 brackets. Coincidentally, they’re also the same people that feel the need to brag about hitting on 2-3 upsets in the opening round. Like yeah dude, it’s pretty easy to predict the inconceivable when you have enough brackets to cover every conceivable outcome.

Point blank: if you play more than one bracket than you’re a soft serve, weak-minded, beta slob. Anything over one is a slap in the face to integrity. Those are “participation brackets.”

Whenever March comes around, I make one ride-or-die bracket and hit the pillow with my integrity intact. When I bet, I bet with that blue collar, Middle America, 9-5, boot straps, tooth and nail, STEAK AND EGGS mentality people have come to know me for…

PS. I have two brackets this year but ONLY for the sake of making a point. Not to mention, I’ll most likely get manhandled in both of them; hence, multiple brackets are for losers…

Kings Stay Kings: United Airlines Forces Passenger to Shove Dog in Overhead Bin; Dog Dies


What a last few months for United Airlines. First, there was the whole incident where that fat psycho got forcibly tossed because United overbooked a few flights and just the other day, they killed a dog. Way to compete, United. Keep that pad level low, kid…

But here’s the deal, in both of these situations, it’s easy to just dump dirt on United’s grave. It’s easy to jump in and start kicking the dead horse that is their PR department. But you know what? I can’t really blame United on this one.

Did they fuck up? Sure. Having a passenger stick a live organism in the overhead bin of an aircraft is a downright ruthless move but I’ve always subscribed to this ideology: If you want to stop a leak, you don’t step on the hose; you go to the water supply and shut off the faucet. In other words, you end things where they began, and “where they began” in this situation is with the people who decided to bring their puppy on a flight.

Listen, dogs are awesome. By far my favorite animal outside of a platypus. They’re man’s best friend, but guess what, you don’t need to bring them with you on vacation—especially if it’s a puppy. Even more so, the puppy was a french bulldog and I’ve heard those things have bad breathing issues. They’re basically like any other breed of dog but they have this perpetual “just walked out of a Cheesecake Factory” respiratory condition. So yeah, leave it at home with a friend/relative or something.

That said, I understand a lot of people won’t be a fan of that idea because they love their dog and it’s “part of the family” yadda yadda yadda. So fine, I won’t necessarily instruct people not to bring their pets. But hey, here’s an idea: How about you check up on the fucking thing during the flight?

Like, how does the dog wimper and cry in that bin for so and so hours without ANYONE thinking, “Hey, I wonder what that live pet we just shoved in the 2 foot wide overhead bin is doing?”

Or even better, how about you just refuse to shove your dog up there. Take it up with United’s Twitter account or something. They’re already in the social media gutter. If you refuse to put your dog up there and generate enough legs on social media, you’ll probably get a free trip out of it. Weaponize Twitter. Save puppies…