I may be a nature and learning party animal. When I was a kid, I heard the music from the ice cream truck, and then, enthusiastically, I asked my dad a quarter.
"No," he says, "they play that music when they're out of ice."
Unless you've never heard of this one, it's an old one. Otherwise, it's mine. But the risk of being condemned as a killjoy makes me defensive. "Our" team won, is not it? That is what matters! UNITED STATES! UNITED STATES!
It is an implacable insult: television asks smart viewers to ignore what they see and to believe only what they are told. A few seconds after the US Women's World Cup win, Aly Wagner, a former senior Fox analyst, said:
"The way they raised a nation! They raised a sex! It's something to see! … They did so much more and against all odds! Was it for our ears or our pancakes?
Against all odds? The United States was the big favorite.
They raised a genre? It was the Women's World Cup! Even Mike Francesa could accurately boast the winners would be a women's team.
They raised a nation? How? Wagner was he unaware that this team had invited contempt, dissuading so many people who would normally have and naturally fully supported him? Could Wagner have been unaware that "we" were represented by those who wore Team USA uniforms during choreographic unproductivity and taunting of their opponents?
Or does Wagner have the impression that Americans can not distinguish right from wrong, and thus provide blind, bloated and unconditional love?
In the 2-0 final against the Netherlands on Sunday, let's look at "our" goals.
The second goal was scored by Rose Lavelle, who was then waiting for teammates to arrive for a group celebration – an elegant and welcome scene, given what we had seen.
The first goal was the work of Alex Morgan, who shot a penalty kick when he almost got a kick in the head. But all around me, Megan Rapinoe was the beneficiary. She was assigned and realized the PK which, at this level, was fully anticipated.
While her teammates rushed to her to celebrate a goal that did not belong to him singularly, Rapinoe escaped from them, going far away from the stage and found herself alone while posing for a full diva .
The captain of the team, which started when Rapinoe ran half the field to demonstrate a nauseating self-esteem after his goal against Thailand was successful.
But Rapinoe, a rude theater pig who kissed the national anthem in protest of President Tweet – as if it was his duty to exploit the matches of the FIFA World Cup football. United States for this purpose – was the captain!
It's no wonder that these Nike champions gave Colin Kaepernick the week to anoint Rapinoe for the commercial face of the victorious US team.
Like four years ago, the victory of this team inspired the media that had just crushed to show how American girls would now be inspired to play and excel at football.
But where do they come from, other than the US playgrounds, the last two teams in the league, Estonia? Women's football has been an important participation sport here for 30 years.
I encouraged my daughters to practice competitive organized sports. They played tennis, field hockey, football and basketball.
But I am no more inclined to shout, to female athletes, to scream, to bang on the back, or to crush their flag, to the deterioration of the deterioration of the social condition of our men's sport.
Billie Jean King-Bobby Riggs' tennis match in 1973 was a television novelty, never designed or intended to be taken seriously. It began with King's carriage in the Astrodome in a sedan supported by muscular gladiators and bright feathers.
And this was taken seriously only years later, when the revisionist media and filmmakers seized it, as a day of vow, as the day of pensive emancipation for the young women of all businesses.
Jim Spence, an ABC executive who helped organize the event, talked about hearing, reading and watching the King-Riggs game take on greater historical significance – when he did not have one.
But whether it's 1973 or 2019, we are trusted to believe what we are told, not what we saw, not what we see.
This American team did nothing to advance "the genre", did not succeed "against all odds" and, because many Americans found it impossible to embrace the US team, no did little to "raise the country".
The MLB launches into the all or nothing
Since the DH was intended to increase the number of hit balls instead of attacking the attackers when they hit the bat, the DH is now a place in order to attack by hitting hard against M's Country Mile Meatballs. Manfred mortars.
Twins 7, Rangers 4 to 8 ¹ / ₂ round Saturday: 23 strikeouts, including five from the DH point. Rays 2, Yankees 1 to 8½ Sunday: 27 strikeouts against nine throwers. The DH of K'd six times, Nate Lowe of Tampa Bay four, Gary Sanchez twice.
In addition, attacking the record number of strokes hit without tackling the record number of retirements on takes, that is to miss half of the story. As hitting circuits became easier, swinging for them became the main goal.
And if the bullets are as "fixed" as they seem, such a marketing genius has ostensibly reduced The Game to HR or the strike.
Worse still, if the bullets are manufactured for maximum CF, remedying them, which would result in a sudden fall of the CF, would be a tacit acceptance by MLB that it would have contaminated and compromised the product in a hidden way.
I can not be ashamed of the shameless, continued: The Saturday match of the Red Sox-Tigers, which was to start at 16:10, ends after midnight. The game ran a ridiculous 3:51 – not including a ridiculous delay of 4:07!
The Mets no longer play the home games on Saturday in the afternoon. The big games in the TV market are at night and the teams are on leave, while Uncle Rob Manfred says kids are the top priority of the MLB.
Tuesday's all-star game was tough as the kids escorted the dugout players. What a con.
If, for 330 million dollars, Bryce Harper of the Phillies does not give the rectum to a rat, why would you do it?
Sunday against the Mets, Harper managed a high flight over the third base line. After Todd Frazier got caught, SNY released a video showing that Harper had never left the plate. He just looked and looked, as if, despite the regular cost of his teams by not even bothering to trot first, he did not care.
"It's just inexcusable," said Keith Hernandez.
But Harper has an excuse: he does not care. And he is not alone. Barely. And the managers of the major leagues are constantly shoving the baseball for a useless ruin.