-920 miles in 52 hours didn't used to be a big deal. Now, that kind of trip drains me. When I got back from Virginia on Sunday, I was exhausted; I spent the rest of the day on the couch, watching television (okay, that's I normally spend a Sunday, but this time I was genuinely tired, and not just being lazy). It made for a long weekend, but it was worth every second.
-The Days Inn in Harrisonburg has the worst "free wi-fi" in the history of hotels. I probably could've gotten a better signal if I sat in the middle of an apartment complex parking lot than the one I was getting (or not getting) in my room. At least I could get a connection long enough to check my fantasy team. That's important, especially with my team battling to stay out of last place.
-I didn't think I'd ever see a car again with a suction-cup Garfield in the window. Can't say that anymore.
-The story of mashed potato wrestling never gets old. I don't care how many years go by (and its already been 6), that one's an all-timer. Maybe I should relay that story here, Tucker Max-style, at some point. Might have to change a few names, though.
-Having a car stereo that allows me to plug my iPod directly into it is the best thing I've had done to my car recently. So much better than f-ing around with an FM transmitter.
-Okay, getting a non-broken driver's seat is the best thing I've done to my car recently. But the new stereo is awesome.
-Jimmy John's is awesome. Even better when it right by your hotel.
-There is no good reason why it should cost $2.50 to drive through West Virginia. I don't even want to think about how much money I've had to pay just to drive through that state. Totally not worth it.
-Not having functioning turn signals makes you seem like an asshole driver. And while that's not far from the truth, I at least like to have the option of signaling when I cut someone off- its rude not to. Its not the bulbs and its not the fuses, so I guess its the wiring. I don't like the direction this diagnosis is headed.
-Gatherings of old friends never last long enough. Despite being there to say goodbye to a friend, it was great to see everyone. I need to get back to Virginia more often. I don't miss living in Virginia, but I do miss the people there. They're my other, other family, and I can't forget that. I need to make it a point to get back at least once a year. And it needs to be a time when a lot of old people are around (both the old old people and the new old people). That time sounds an awful lot like Foxfields. Better start making plans for 2009.
Monday, June 30, 2008
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Nine Years. Two Days. It Never Really Goes Away.
I don't like to think about death. Anyway you spin it, its sad and its painful. Its something I never thought I'd write about here, that's for sure. But this week in particular, its tough for me not think about it. Nine years ago this week, my friend Mike Benson passed away (the quote in my profile, about the "entirely too large Asian"- that came from Mike). The end of June always brings back thoughts of Mike, and with the news of another friend's passing over the weekend, sometimes, it can be too much.
I can't believe its been nine years. I think about all that's happened since then, and 1999 seems like a lifetime ago. I caught some of VH1's "I Love the New Millennium" last night (big mistake), and in between snarky reviews of pop culture in 2000 and 2001, I was once again astounded at how fast time goes by.
Nine years.
Red: Jesus, when you say it like that...
Andy: You wonder where it went.
I try and avoid the "what if's?", but its impossible. Mike was one of our best friends, and his loss was so sudden and so jarring, I can't help but think "what if?". We'd have a Michigan grad among our ranks, which would've gone nicely to balance out all the Buckeye's we seem to have (and given us endless entertainment with the mention of "Appalachian State"). We'd also have the most left political viewpoint of the group; I'd be interested to hear his opinion on President Bush (the debacle of an election that was 2000 would have probably sent him into an Exorcist-style cursing/vomiting/head-spinning situation). We would've seen his inner fair-weather Tigers fan emerge in 2006 when they made the World Series and then go back into hiding after their hideous 2008 start.
But I can only go down that path for so long before reality sets in. Mike's never going to get to do those things, and the only consolation I take from that is that I think everyone's got a plan and purpose in life, and he just wasn't meant to be here at this time. He's gone not because of some random act, but because it was his time to go as part of something larger. I don't know if that's true, or if I even fully believe it, but it helps. Nine years later, it still helps. And it helps now, two days later, with Jess.
Much love to Bob and Rosalyn, and my brothers at X, and to Nora, her family, and the extended TA-WVFCI/OP(?)MPB&CSR,U!! family. Take care of yourselves.
Red: Those of us who knew him best talk about him often. I swear the stuff he pulled. Sometimes it makes me sad, though, Andy being gone. I have to remind myself that some birds aren't meant to be caged. Their feathers are just too bright. And when they fly away, the part of you that knows it was a sin to lock them up does rejoice. Still, the place you live in is that much more drab and empty that they're gone. I guess I just miss my friend.
I can't believe its been nine years. I think about all that's happened since then, and 1999 seems like a lifetime ago. I caught some of VH1's "I Love the New Millennium" last night (big mistake), and in between snarky reviews of pop culture in 2000 and 2001, I was once again astounded at how fast time goes by.
Nine years.
Red: Jesus, when you say it like that...
Andy: You wonder where it went.
I try and avoid the "what if's?", but its impossible. Mike was one of our best friends, and his loss was so sudden and so jarring, I can't help but think "what if?". We'd have a Michigan grad among our ranks, which would've gone nicely to balance out all the Buckeye's we seem to have (and given us endless entertainment with the mention of "Appalachian State"). We'd also have the most left political viewpoint of the group; I'd be interested to hear his opinion on President Bush (the debacle of an election that was 2000 would have probably sent him into an Exorcist-style cursing/vomiting/head-spinning situation). We would've seen his inner fair-weather Tigers fan emerge in 2006 when they made the World Series and then go back into hiding after their hideous 2008 start.
But I can only go down that path for so long before reality sets in. Mike's never going to get to do those things, and the only consolation I take from that is that I think everyone's got a plan and purpose in life, and he just wasn't meant to be here at this time. He's gone not because of some random act, but because it was his time to go as part of something larger. I don't know if that's true, or if I even fully believe it, but it helps. Nine years later, it still helps. And it helps now, two days later, with Jess.
Much love to Bob and Rosalyn, and my brothers at X, and to Nora, her family, and the extended TA-WVFCI/OP(?)MPB&CSR,U!! family. Take care of yourselves.
Red: Those of us who knew him best talk about him often. I swear the stuff he pulled. Sometimes it makes me sad, though, Andy being gone. I have to remind myself that some birds aren't meant to be caged. Their feathers are just too bright. And when they fly away, the part of you that knows it was a sin to lock them up does rejoice. Still, the place you live in is that much more drab and empty that they're gone. I guess I just miss my friend.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Why I Shouldn't Have HBO Or Showtime
If I didn't have HBO or Showtime, I'd get a lot more stuff done. My house would be cleaner and I would probably be able to make a dent into the pile to books I've been meaning to read (quickly approaching three dozen, because I can't walk into a Barnes & Noble without buying something; its much like Best Buy in that way). But I do have HBO and Showtime, which means there's always something to watch on television. Sometimes its a movie that I wanted to see, but never got around to, or one of the HBO Sports documentaries. Sometimes its a movie I own on DVD and have seen before, but I watch anyway (because its just too much work to get up and play the DVD). Sometimes its a piece of shit movie that forces me to question my own sanity (its this last scenario that really bothers me). Good or bad, I end up watching it because I can't force myself to change the channel. A brief review of some of the programming I've subjected myself to recently (like, in the past week or so):
-Ocean's Thirteen: I saw this when it was first released and at the time, I remember thinking that it was not as good as the first one (which is a movie I stop and watch whenever its on anywhere; more on that later), but better than the second one (which I saw again, too, and man, what a bad movie; it had plenty of funny lines, but the plot holes are egregious, even for a heist movie. After watching it again, I think that's still valid.
-The Negotiator: I like think movie. Love Kevin Spacey and Sam Jackson, and this movie's an enjoyable mystery/action flick.
-Snakes on a Plane: Still awesome.
-Drive Me Crazy: Holy shit, this movie sucked. Big time (but Puddin's having a Britney Spears flashback). This one falls squarely into the "forces me to question my own sanity" category. Clarissa explaining it all to Vinnie Chase? Really? And what's with Ali Larter playing the arty, unpopular chick? Who made that casting call? I was so ashamed I sat through this one I almost canceled my service when it was over. It was terrible.
-The Back Nine At Cherry Hills: This was fantastic. HBO Sports rarely misses with their "Sports of the 20th Century" series, and this was no exception. If you like golf, you've got a catch this. It recalls the story of the 1960 US Open at Cherry Hills County Club, won by Arnold Palmer (his only US Open title). In contention at this tournament were Palmer, on the verge of taking his place as golf's premier star, Ben Hogan, golf's old guard, clearly at the tail end of his remarkable career, and Jack Nicklaus, a young amateur who was still a few years away from becoming "The Bear." The program documented the back stories of each of these golfing legends, leading them to the final round at Cherry Hills. Incredible to think that these three players all converged to complete for the same title.
-Do You Believe In Miracles?: Another great HBO Sports program. I wasn't alive for this, but I get chills when I hear Al Michaels call at the end of the game. Maybe the most famous call in sports history (well, at least top three).
While most of the things I watch on HBO or Showtime I catch whenever, I find that I watch Do You Believe In Miracles? whenever its on. Other movies I watch whenever they're on: Ocean's 11 (mentioned that above; just a cool, fun movie); Drumline (movie sucks, but I love the music; I actually used to hate In The Stone because we tried to play it in college and failed miserably, but now I love that song); Star Wars, Empire, Jedi (well, duh); Lord of the Rings (well, duh); The Shawshank Redemption (another example, along with Field of Dreams where the movie was better than the book, or, in this case, novella); Band of Brothers (okay, not technically a movie, but still awesome).
Time to go see what's on the magic box. Hopefully its something awesome, and not something suck. Because I'm going to watch either way.
-Ocean's Thirteen: I saw this when it was first released and at the time, I remember thinking that it was not as good as the first one (which is a movie I stop and watch whenever its on anywhere; more on that later), but better than the second one (which I saw again, too, and man, what a bad movie; it had plenty of funny lines, but the plot holes are egregious, even for a heist movie. After watching it again, I think that's still valid.
-The Negotiator: I like think movie. Love Kevin Spacey and Sam Jackson, and this movie's an enjoyable mystery/action flick.
-Snakes on a Plane: Still awesome.
-Drive Me Crazy: Holy shit, this movie sucked. Big time (but Puddin's having a Britney Spears flashback). This one falls squarely into the "forces me to question my own sanity" category. Clarissa explaining it all to Vinnie Chase? Really? And what's with Ali Larter playing the arty, unpopular chick? Who made that casting call? I was so ashamed I sat through this one I almost canceled my service when it was over. It was terrible.
-The Back Nine At Cherry Hills: This was fantastic. HBO Sports rarely misses with their "Sports of the 20th Century" series, and this was no exception. If you like golf, you've got a catch this. It recalls the story of the 1960 US Open at Cherry Hills County Club, won by Arnold Palmer (his only US Open title). In contention at this tournament were Palmer, on the verge of taking his place as golf's premier star, Ben Hogan, golf's old guard, clearly at the tail end of his remarkable career, and Jack Nicklaus, a young amateur who was still a few years away from becoming "The Bear." The program documented the back stories of each of these golfing legends, leading them to the final round at Cherry Hills. Incredible to think that these three players all converged to complete for the same title.
-Do You Believe In Miracles?: Another great HBO Sports program. I wasn't alive for this, but I get chills when I hear Al Michaels call at the end of the game. Maybe the most famous call in sports history (well, at least top three).
While most of the things I watch on HBO or Showtime I catch whenever, I find that I watch Do You Believe In Miracles? whenever its on. Other movies I watch whenever they're on: Ocean's 11 (mentioned that above; just a cool, fun movie); Drumline (movie sucks, but I love the music; I actually used to hate In The Stone because we tried to play it in college and failed miserably, but now I love that song); Star Wars, Empire, Jedi (well, duh); Lord of the Rings (well, duh); The Shawshank Redemption (another example, along with Field of Dreams where the movie was better than the book, or, in this case, novella); Band of Brothers (okay, not technically a movie, but still awesome).
Time to go see what's on the magic box. Hopefully its something awesome, and not something suck. Because I'm going to watch either way.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Oh, And The Sun's Going To Rise Tomorrow
I might be going out on a limb here, but Tiger Woods is going to win the 2008 US Open. Now, my last stone-cold lock of a pick didn't turn out so well; but that was then. Am I guaranteeing a win for Tiger? Don't have to. Tiger Woods leading a Major Championship after 3 rounds is one of the only actual sure things is all of sports. And this isn't some Joe Namath-like guarantee, or even a Chad Johnson-esque guarantee; he's never lost in this position. All of 13 of his Majors have come when leading (or sharing the lead) after 56 holes, and he's in the lead going into play today. Put it on the board, Tiger Woods is the US Open champion. Even Rick Dutrow would agree.
Thursday, June 12, 2008
"We," Because I Play...
Sports allegiance is a big deal with me. Sticking with your team, bandwagon jumping, "wannabe" fans- all things I have strong opinions on (to hear them, just tell me you're a fan of a team from a city or region you've never lived in or of a school you've never attended). And I'm positive that this fervor comes from growing up in a city with professional sports teams. Yeah, crappy professional sports teams, but pro teams none the less. So why do I bring this up?
In some recent podcasts, Bill Simmons has mentioned a couple of things that have made me think about my own sports allegiances, both professional and college. First, the pros. Simmons says in his podcast with Mike O'Malley that he fears his kids will grow up fans of L.A. teams if they continue to live in Southern California instead of fans of his beloved Boston teams. And this got me to thinking about my own dad (what with this being so close to Father's Day and all). My dad's not from Cincinnati, and while he enjoys sports, he never forced any team allegiance on me as a kid (well, maybe college, but that's for later in the post). I was free to choose whatever teams I wanted to cheer for, so naturally, I gravitated to the Cincinnati teams. Looking back, I'm thankful my dad gave me the freedom to choose because I came to a shocking revelation just a few years ago:
My dad's a Steelers fan.
One could argue that this should have been obvious (he immigrated and grew up in central Pennsylvania, went to Penn State, lived outside Pittsburgh in the late 70's, had Steelers pennants on the wall in our basement, etc.), but because he never forced them on me, it wasn't. He left it open for me to choose the teams from where I was from, which was pretty cool.
[Sidebar: I wasn't born in Cincinnati, but we moved here when I was 3, and it's the only home I have any memories of. I was born in Connecticut (Bridgeport to be exact), which got me thinking- what if my family hadn't moved? Where would my sport allegiance lie? I would have definitely been a Whaler fan, them being the only pro team in the state at the time, which means I would now be a bitter, resentful hockey fan instead of a mildly disinterested one. Now all that's left in Connecticut is a WNBA team- the horror! What about the other sports? It would have to be either New York or Boston, right? Boston has a hold over the New England, but New York is closer. This is horrible! Either way, I'd be that "wannabe" fan that I despise so much. Thank God we moved! It allowed me to be a real fan. And I'll take being a real fan of a crappy team over being a fake fan of a good team any day of the week.]
Anyway, so what happens when I have kids? If I'm no longer in Cincinnati, do I give them the same freedom my dad gave me? I don't know if I could handle that. It'd be tough, but if we were living in another professional sports town, I guess I could understand it. But if I'm still in Cincinnati, and my kid chooses another team- that, I don't think I could live with. Just have to cross the bridge when I get there.
So what does it all mean? I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm glad I'm not a Steelers fan. Thanks, Dad!
Now, the second point Simmons brought up was with his college friend, Jack-O. They were talking about how, knowing what they know about college and one's allegiance to their alma mater, specifically to their athletics, they might have chosen their colleges differently. Sounds silly at first, choosing a college based in part on their athletics, but I have to admit, it played a role in my college selection.
I'm not saying that I chose a school entirely because they were good in sports (afterall, I went to Virginia), but sports was important to me. I saw how my dad was about his alma mater, and while I didn't end up following him there (and nor did my brother, Brother of GiantAsianMan, which I think, deep down, still cheeses my dad a bit), I wanted to be able to feel the same way about the school I graduated from. That meant that the school had to play Division I sports in a major athletic conference. I knew that this was a school that I was going to cheer for the rest of my life, so I wanted to be sure that there was a team I could cheer for the rest of my life. I also had to want to cheer for said school, otherwise, why bother? Case in point: Notre Dame.
Notre Dame is a great academic school. I visited South Bend when I was touring colleges and was very impressed with the campus. There's a good chance I would have gone to school there if it weren't for one thing: I hate Notre Dame. Hated Notre Dame for as long as I can remember. Spend two minutes around me in the fall and this becomes readily apparent. I can't stand Notre Dame, or its "fans"(sometimes called "Catholics," but I digress), and there was no way in Hell I was going to go there. I could never cheer for Notre Dame, so I could never attend Notre Dame.
Silly? Perhaps. Childish? Maybe. Important? Absolutely. Go Hoos! Wahoowa!
In some recent podcasts, Bill Simmons has mentioned a couple of things that have made me think about my own sports allegiances, both professional and college. First, the pros. Simmons says in his podcast with Mike O'Malley that he fears his kids will grow up fans of L.A. teams if they continue to live in Southern California instead of fans of his beloved Boston teams. And this got me to thinking about my own dad (what with this being so close to Father's Day and all). My dad's not from Cincinnati, and while he enjoys sports, he never forced any team allegiance on me as a kid (well, maybe college, but that's for later in the post). I was free to choose whatever teams I wanted to cheer for, so naturally, I gravitated to the Cincinnati teams. Looking back, I'm thankful my dad gave me the freedom to choose because I came to a shocking revelation just a few years ago:
My dad's a Steelers fan.
One could argue that this should have been obvious (he immigrated and grew up in central Pennsylvania, went to Penn State, lived outside Pittsburgh in the late 70's, had Steelers pennants on the wall in our basement, etc.), but because he never forced them on me, it wasn't. He left it open for me to choose the teams from where I was from, which was pretty cool.
[Sidebar: I wasn't born in Cincinnati, but we moved here when I was 3, and it's the only home I have any memories of. I was born in Connecticut (Bridgeport to be exact), which got me thinking- what if my family hadn't moved? Where would my sport allegiance lie? I would have definitely been a Whaler fan, them being the only pro team in the state at the time, which means I would now be a bitter, resentful hockey fan instead of a mildly disinterested one. Now all that's left in Connecticut is a WNBA team- the horror! What about the other sports? It would have to be either New York or Boston, right? Boston has a hold over the New England, but New York is closer. This is horrible! Either way, I'd be that "wannabe" fan that I despise so much. Thank God we moved! It allowed me to be a real fan. And I'll take being a real fan of a crappy team over being a fake fan of a good team any day of the week.]
Anyway, so what happens when I have kids? If I'm no longer in Cincinnati, do I give them the same freedom my dad gave me? I don't know if I could handle that. It'd be tough, but if we were living in another professional sports town, I guess I could understand it. But if I'm still in Cincinnati, and my kid chooses another team- that, I don't think I could live with. Just have to cross the bridge when I get there.
So what does it all mean? I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm glad I'm not a Steelers fan. Thanks, Dad!
Now, the second point Simmons brought up was with his college friend, Jack-O. They were talking about how, knowing what they know about college and one's allegiance to their alma mater, specifically to their athletics, they might have chosen their colleges differently. Sounds silly at first, choosing a college based in part on their athletics, but I have to admit, it played a role in my college selection.
I'm not saying that I chose a school entirely because they were good in sports (afterall, I went to Virginia), but sports was important to me. I saw how my dad was about his alma mater, and while I didn't end up following him there (and nor did my brother, Brother of GiantAsianMan, which I think, deep down, still cheeses my dad a bit), I wanted to be able to feel the same way about the school I graduated from. That meant that the school had to play Division I sports in a major athletic conference. I knew that this was a school that I was going to cheer for the rest of my life, so I wanted to be sure that there was a team I could cheer for the rest of my life. I also had to want to cheer for said school, otherwise, why bother? Case in point: Notre Dame.
Notre Dame is a great academic school. I visited South Bend when I was touring colleges and was very impressed with the campus. There's a good chance I would have gone to school there if it weren't for one thing: I hate Notre Dame. Hated Notre Dame for as long as I can remember. Spend two minutes around me in the fall and this becomes readily apparent. I can't stand Notre Dame, or its "fans"(sometimes called "Catholics," but I digress), and there was no way in Hell I was going to go there. I could never cheer for Notre Dame, so I could never attend Notre Dame.
Silly? Perhaps. Childish? Maybe. Important? Absolutely. Go Hoos! Wahoowa!
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
That's A Chick's Movie
Someone mentioned The Dirty Dozen today and I was reminded of the following clip:
First off, I love this scene (if not the movie). The look on the kid's face as Rita Wilson is breaking down is priceless. And with its line about being killed by a terrorist and its commentary on blindly writing to someone they heard on the radio (as a parallel to internet dating), the scene is oddly foretelling. Also, Victor Garber is awesome (the guy in the scene not names Tom Hanks). Since Alias, I can only see him as Jack Bristow, and the thought of Jack Bristow crying at the end of The Dirty Dozen is hysterical.
But this scene also reminds me of a conversation/debate I had once at a time previous to now- is it ever acceptable for a guy to cry at a movie (The Dirty Dozen not included)? The girls in this conversation/debate argued that, yes, from time to time, its okay for a guy to cry at a movie. The guys disagreed. There are no movies where it would be acceptable. But sometime after this conversation/debate (but still previous to now), I came up with one. A movie where it would be okay if a guy were crying at the end. Not saying every guy cries at the end of this movie, or that a guy wouldn't endure some ribbing from his friends for it, but if he did, it would be understandable. The movie?
Field of Dreams.
You going to knock a guy for shedding a few tears at the end of this movie while he's thinking about having a catch with his father, especially if his father's passed on? A little, probably, but nothing like he'd cried at the end of Pulp Fiction. You get it if a guy's a little choked up after this one. James Earl Jones delivers a powerhouse speech at the end, and you're feeling all nostalgic about the baseball, and for many guys, that means playing catch with their dad outside on the lawn. Then Kevin Costner's Ray Kinsella has a chance to have one more catch with dad and gets the redemption he's been seeking. Yeah, its an emotional, sentimental scene at the end, but its not sappy or cheesy, so it works (its also one of the few books that's better as a movie).
So as far as I'm concerned, that's it, that's the list. Have I missed any others? Are they any others? Is there even a list to begin with?
First off, I love this scene (if not the movie). The look on the kid's face as Rita Wilson is breaking down is priceless. And with its line about being killed by a terrorist and its commentary on blindly writing to someone they heard on the radio (as a parallel to internet dating), the scene is oddly foretelling. Also, Victor Garber is awesome (the guy in the scene not names Tom Hanks). Since Alias, I can only see him as Jack Bristow, and the thought of Jack Bristow crying at the end of The Dirty Dozen is hysterical.
But this scene also reminds me of a conversation/debate I had once at a time previous to now- is it ever acceptable for a guy to cry at a movie (The Dirty Dozen not included)? The girls in this conversation/debate argued that, yes, from time to time, its okay for a guy to cry at a movie. The guys disagreed. There are no movies where it would be acceptable. But sometime after this conversation/debate (but still previous to now), I came up with one. A movie where it would be okay if a guy were crying at the end. Not saying every guy cries at the end of this movie, or that a guy wouldn't endure some ribbing from his friends for it, but if he did, it would be understandable. The movie?
Field of Dreams.
You going to knock a guy for shedding a few tears at the end of this movie while he's thinking about having a catch with his father, especially if his father's passed on? A little, probably, but nothing like he'd cried at the end of Pulp Fiction. You get it if a guy's a little choked up after this one. James Earl Jones delivers a powerhouse speech at the end, and you're feeling all nostalgic about the baseball, and for many guys, that means playing catch with their dad outside on the lawn. Then Kevin Costner's Ray Kinsella has a chance to have one more catch with dad and gets the redemption he's been seeking. Yeah, its an emotional, sentimental scene at the end, but its not sappy or cheesy, so it works (its also one of the few books that's better as a movie).
So as far as I'm concerned, that's it, that's the list. Have I missed any others? Are they any others? Is there even a list to begin with?
Monday, June 9, 2008
The Best I Ever Saw
I don't know how long I'll live, but when its all said and done, I know that Ken Griffey, Jr. will be the greatest baseball player I saw in my lifetime. Yeah, he went to Moeller; I don't hold that against him (neither with Barry Larkin). Legend has it that a game versus Lakota back in the day, Griffey hit a home run that landed on the roof of the old Lakota High School. I've been to that field; its to the opposite field and there's a small parking lot between the outfield fence and the school. And I have no doubt he hit the roof. Griffey finally got pitched to tonight and he hit home run number 600 in front of about 387 fans in Florida. A moment long overdue for one of the greatest players of all time.
I hate playing the "what if?" game, especially with sports. So many things happen, situations change constantly, and there's just no way to know what might have been if this or that when differently. But as much as I dislike the "what if?" game, its hard, very hard, not to wonder "what if?" when you think about Griffey's time in Cincinnati.
I still remember the day he was traded to Cincinnati. I had my dad send me the Sports Illustrated issue that week with this as the cover story; I still have it. The1999 season had ended with a one-game playoff between the Reds and Mets, where Al Freakin' Leiter threw the game of his life and dropped a two hit complete game shutout on the Reds, sending the Mets to the postseason. It didn't help that there were more than a few Mets fans around (Renee, Rachel, I'm looking at you). Fast forward to Spring 2000. The Reds needed offense, they got an All-Century player. On the day the Reds got Griffey, I went to practice, saw said Mets fans, and proclaimed, "That's it, its over. The Reds, World Series champs."
Again, called that one a bit early. I'm a homer; sue me.
What if Griffey doesn't get hurt? What if he doesn't shred his hamstring into a thousand pieces? What if he doesn't mess up his knee, or break his wrist? Do the Reds win more games? Maybe, maybe not, you can't predict that kind of stuff (but most likely not, because a lot of those teams were atrocious). But the numbers would have been there. Tonight could have easily been #700, or 750, or more. Maybe he gets to Ruth before Bonds does, and Bonds never gets to top spot. Sure, I think A-Rod will end up with the record (somewhere around 800 homers), but until then, it could have been Griffey up there waiting, and not Bonds.
But it didn't happen. Griffey got old and his body broke down. That's what happens when aren't applying the "arthritis cream" and taking the "flaxseed oil" that you get from your friend Victor Conte (yes, I believe that Griffey is clean and that Bonds cheated; I make no bones about it). Baseball became more of a job than it was in Seattle and he clearly lost a lot of the joy he had back then. A lot of fans turned on him because the Reds weren't winning and he was on the DL. And it wasn't like he was getting hurt "washing his truck" (see: Kent, Jeff) or playing Guitar Hero (see: Zumaya, Joel); he was on the field, running the bases, going after fly balls.
His injury-plagued tenure in Cincinnati has, unfortunately, overshadowed his accomplishments in Seattle. I hope that's still not the case five years after he retires. I hope they remember that he was a member of the All Century Team. I hope they remember he was the player of the decade in the 90's and the face of baseball during that time. I hope they remember that he took less money to come home and it was the organization that failed him, not the other way around. I hope they remember that his name was never mentioned in the Mitchell Report or any book written by Jose Canseco. I hope they remember that he worked his way back after every injury. I hope they remember The Kid, hat backwards, smile on his face. I know I will. Because maybe someday, long in the future, I'll see him walking down the street, and I'll look up and say, "There goes Ken Griffey, Jr., the best there ever was in this game."
I hate playing the "what if?" game, especially with sports. So many things happen, situations change constantly, and there's just no way to know what might have been if this or that when differently. But as much as I dislike the "what if?" game, its hard, very hard, not to wonder "what if?" when you think about Griffey's time in Cincinnati.
I still remember the day he was traded to Cincinnati. I had my dad send me the Sports Illustrated issue that week with this as the cover story; I still have it. The1999 season had ended with a one-game playoff between the Reds and Mets, where Al Freakin' Leiter threw the game of his life and dropped a two hit complete game shutout on the Reds, sending the Mets to the postseason. It didn't help that there were more than a few Mets fans around (Renee, Rachel, I'm looking at you). Fast forward to Spring 2000. The Reds needed offense, they got an All-Century player. On the day the Reds got Griffey, I went to practice, saw said Mets fans, and proclaimed, "That's it, its over. The Reds, World Series champs."
Again, called that one a bit early. I'm a homer; sue me.
What if Griffey doesn't get hurt? What if he doesn't shred his hamstring into a thousand pieces? What if he doesn't mess up his knee, or break his wrist? Do the Reds win more games? Maybe, maybe not, you can't predict that kind of stuff (but most likely not, because a lot of those teams were atrocious). But the numbers would have been there. Tonight could have easily been #700, or 750, or more. Maybe he gets to Ruth before Bonds does, and Bonds never gets to top spot. Sure, I think A-Rod will end up with the record (somewhere around 800 homers), but until then, it could have been Griffey up there waiting, and not Bonds.
But it didn't happen. Griffey got old and his body broke down. That's what happens when aren't applying the "arthritis cream" and taking the "flaxseed oil" that you get from your friend Victor Conte (yes, I believe that Griffey is clean and that Bonds cheated; I make no bones about it). Baseball became more of a job than it was in Seattle and he clearly lost a lot of the joy he had back then. A lot of fans turned on him because the Reds weren't winning and he was on the DL. And it wasn't like he was getting hurt "washing his truck" (see: Kent, Jeff) or playing Guitar Hero (see: Zumaya, Joel); he was on the field, running the bases, going after fly balls.
His injury-plagued tenure in Cincinnati has, unfortunately, overshadowed his accomplishments in Seattle. I hope that's still not the case five years after he retires. I hope they remember that he was a member of the All Century Team. I hope they remember he was the player of the decade in the 90's and the face of baseball during that time. I hope they remember that he took less money to come home and it was the organization that failed him, not the other way around. I hope they remember that his name was never mentioned in the Mitchell Report or any book written by Jose Canseco. I hope they remember that he worked his way back after every injury. I hope they remember The Kid, hat backwards, smile on his face. I know I will. Because maybe someday, long in the future, I'll see him walking down the street, and I'll look up and say, "There goes Ken Griffey, Jr., the best there ever was in this game."
Infestation Update
Forget hearing them out back on the loading dock; I can hear the cicadas over my iPod and the buzz of my computer. I'd go to headphones, but that isn't generally accepted as "good work practice;" although, it still might be worth it. I think the sudden onset of summer weather (90+ degrees) after an unseasonably cool (and very nice) end of May is to blame. The warmer temperatures have jolted the awaiting hordes to emerge from the ground and fulfill their destiny of being crushed by children, eaten by dogs, and smashed into car windshields, all in the hope that in 17 years, they're offspring will return and follow in their glorious footsteps. Fuck cicadas.
Yeah, But He Never Won The French Open
As recent as last year, tennis people were willing to call Roger Federer the greatest player of all time (and it was tough to argue against). But now, the specter of never winning the French Open looks like it might tarnish his career, which isn't even over yet. Pete Sampras never won the French Open, and yet it doesn't seem to affect his legacy at all. So what gives?
That's right folks, we're talking tennis. Men's tennis.
(If this were Puddin's blog, this is probably where he'd drop a picture of a hot girl that's semi-related to the post topic, possibly Maria Sharapova, or newly-crowned French Open champ Ana Ivanovic, since we're talking about tennis. Knowing Puddin', I'm going with Sharapova. When in doubt, go with the blond.)
Pete Sampras is easily one of the top 5 greatest tennis players of all time. You make that statement, and no one's going to challenge you on it. And if they do challenge you on it, its with the line, "Yeah, but he never won the French Open." And while that's true, it doesn't seem to diminish his career at all. A record 14 Grand Slam titles, and no one really seems to care that none them came in Paris.
But they do when it comes to Roger Federer.
I thought about this over the weekend as I watched Rafael Nafal absolutely dominate Federer in the French Open final one, three, and love. Roger Federer is going to break Sampras'scareer Grand Slam record (he at 12 and could easily tie Sampras by the end of the year; would you bet against him at Wimbledon and Flushing Meadows?), and will probably end up near 20 when he retires. So why will the French Open haunt him as it doesn't haunt Sampras? Because if it weren't for Nadal, Federer would already have 3 French Open titles (and the career Grand Slam record).
To put it bluntly, Sampras sucked at the French Open. He never made the finals (NEVER!) and only made the semifinal once (ONCE!) in his entire career. So good as he was at Wimbledon, he was horrible in Paris. And that's why never winning there doesn't mar his legacy. He was so bad there over the course of his career that we was never expect to win (kinda like the Cubs- you knew I'd find a way to get baseball into this post).
But with Federer, he makes the finals (three years in a row), he just can't win it all (kinda like the Red Sox, pre-2004). And we look harsher on those that get to the end and can't finish compared to those that never get there at all, so he's seen as a disappointment while Sampras is not. As long as Federer continues to make the finals at Roland Garros, he's going to be expected to eventually win one. Sampras never had that expectation, so history will gives him a pass. And the fact that he's lost all three finals to Nadal is just insult to injury. Even for a great champion like Federer, its got to be demoralizing to know that you can beat everyone else on this surface except for this one guy (see: Franklin, Rich vs. Silva, Anderson; nice- tennis, baseball, MMA, all in one post).
It sucks, but unless he finds a way to win the French Open (and, after 3 straight losses, it has to be against Nadal, otherwise you'll get the, "but he hasn't beaten Nadal at the French" nay-sayers), he'll always be penalized for being both good enough and not good enough, all at the same time.
That's right folks, we're talking tennis. Men's tennis.
(If this were Puddin's blog, this is probably where he'd drop a picture of a hot girl that's semi-related to the post topic, possibly Maria Sharapova, or newly-crowned French Open champ Ana Ivanovic, since we're talking about tennis. Knowing Puddin', I'm going with Sharapova. When in doubt, go with the blond.)
Pete Sampras is easily one of the top 5 greatest tennis players of all time. You make that statement, and no one's going to challenge you on it. And if they do challenge you on it, its with the line, "Yeah, but he never won the French Open." And while that's true, it doesn't seem to diminish his career at all. A record 14 Grand Slam titles, and no one really seems to care that none them came in Paris.
But they do when it comes to Roger Federer.
I thought about this over the weekend as I watched Rafael Nafal absolutely dominate Federer in the French Open final one, three, and love. Roger Federer is going to break Sampras'scareer Grand Slam record (he at 12 and could easily tie Sampras by the end of the year; would you bet against him at Wimbledon and Flushing Meadows?), and will probably end up near 20 when he retires. So why will the French Open haunt him as it doesn't haunt Sampras? Because if it weren't for Nadal, Federer would already have 3 French Open titles (and the career Grand Slam record).
To put it bluntly, Sampras sucked at the French Open. He never made the finals (NEVER!) and only made the semifinal once (ONCE!) in his entire career. So good as he was at Wimbledon, he was horrible in Paris. And that's why never winning there doesn't mar his legacy. He was so bad there over the course of his career that we was never expect to win (kinda like the Cubs- you knew I'd find a way to get baseball into this post).
But with Federer, he makes the finals (three years in a row), he just can't win it all (kinda like the Red Sox, pre-2004). And we look harsher on those that get to the end and can't finish compared to those that never get there at all, so he's seen as a disappointment while Sampras is not. As long as Federer continues to make the finals at Roland Garros, he's going to be expected to eventually win one. Sampras never had that expectation, so history will gives him a pass. And the fact that he's lost all three finals to Nadal is just insult to injury. Even for a great champion like Federer, its got to be demoralizing to know that you can beat everyone else on this surface except for this one guy (see: Franklin, Rich vs. Silva, Anderson; nice- tennis, baseball, MMA, all in one post).
It sucks, but unless he finds a way to win the French Open (and, after 3 straight losses, it has to be against Nadal, otherwise you'll get the, "but he hasn't beaten Nadal at the French" nay-sayers), he'll always be penalized for being both good enough and not good enough, all at the same time.
Saturday, June 7, 2008
On Second Thought....
Actually, I think Big Brown's going to choke in the Belmont, be eased up going into the final turn, finish last, and miss the Triple Crown.
Yeah, might have called that one a bit early.
Yeah, might have called that one a bit early.
Friday, June 6, 2008
Big Brown Said, "Have Some More Pie."
I think Big Brown wins the Belmont on Saturday. If I were a betting man (and I am, just not usually on horses), I'd bet that we see the first Triple Crown winner in 30 years. And I think that this time, it would be good for horse racing if it happened. There's more focus on horse racing now than at any time I can remember (due in large part to tragedy, see: Barbaro, Eight Belles), and in past years (with Smarty Jones, Funny Cide, War Emblem, etc.), I've argued that a loss in the Belmont actually enhances the sport. The Belmont only matters to the general public if a horse as a shot at the Triple Crown, and the Triple Crown only matters because its been so long since the last one. Every year removed from Affirmed just added to the anticipation of the next Triple Crown winner, and that was only way for horse racing to garner any real attention from the casual sports fan. That tease is what brought the casual fan back to the Kentucky Derby the next year, and the year after that, and the year after that. Thirty years is along time to tease the audience; at some point you have to have a payoff, otherwise people will just tune out altogether (take note, Lost producers). I think that payoff is Saturday.
(Oh, and Big Brown didn't say that.)
(Oh, and Big Brown didn't say that.)
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
Given The Choice, I'll Take Locusts. Or Frogs.
I hate cicadas.
We have them behind our office. You can hear them "sing" when you're out back on the loading dock. I remember the last time this brood came out to die (1991). I seem to recall that if you pull off their wings, their heads fall off. But it was a long time ago; maybe they've built up an immunity to that now. Paul Daugherty compared cicadas to the Bengals- "They spend 17 years underground, come out for a couple of months, and get stomped." Hysterical. Maybe a lot got killed during last night's thunderstorm/potential tornado. Maybe they died before they could breed. One can only hope.
I hate cicadas.
We have them behind our office. You can hear them "sing" when you're out back on the loading dock. I remember the last time this brood came out to die (1991). I seem to recall that if you pull off their wings, their heads fall off. But it was a long time ago; maybe they've built up an immunity to that now. Paul Daugherty compared cicadas to the Bengals- "They spend 17 years underground, come out for a couple of months, and get stomped." Hysterical. Maybe a lot got killed during last night's thunderstorm/potential tornado. Maybe they died before they could breed. One can only hope.
I hate cicadas.
But They Booed Santa Claus
Surprise reaction from the Philly fans last night- they cheered Ken Griffey, Jr. when he entered the game to pinch hit, booed their own reliever, Tom Gordon, when he walked him on 4 straight pitches, and cheered Griffey again as he jogged of the field after being replaced by a pinch runner. Now, Griffey didn't start the first two games of the series (due to "general soreness," whatever the hell that is), and he's sitting on 599 homeruns. When he came into the game last night, the Reds were down by a run and the bases were empty, and yet they booed when he wasn't given a chance to hit #600 and tie the game. I have to admit, that impressed me a little (then again, my baseline for a Philly fan is Smouther, so maybe that's not saying much). Sure, they want the Phillies to win (and win they did), but they also wanted to see something that's only been done 5 times before (and only 3 times clean). I'm glad that they cheered Griffey (and I guess the "Philly" in them caused them to boo Gordon). The baseball optimist in me hopes that they did so because they recognize that he played the game clean and has never been tainted by the suggestion of steroids. Griffey got a great reception from the St. Louis fans (some of the best fans in baseball, as much as that kills me to say) when he hit #500; looks like he might get a similar on if he hits #600 in Philly. [Interesting stat I read somewhere- Griffey's hit homeruns 200, 300, 400, and 500 all on the road.]
Note: A lot of baseball posts so far. I guess that can be expected since that's where my focus is right now (because, serious, who watches hockey? except for the Cyclones! Go 'Clones!). I really don't intend for this to to become a baseball blog, so I'll try and mix it up. Once the Reds become "mathematically eliminated" (that's for Puddin'), my focus will shift elsewhere (who knows, with the way the Cubbies are playing, that day might come by the All-Star break). The Olympics are this year, love the Olympic. We elect a President this year, which is kind of important. The Dark Knight, 'nuff said. So more things are coming. But for now, its baseball.
Note: A lot of baseball posts so far. I guess that can be expected since that's where my focus is right now (because, serious, who watches hockey? except for the Cyclones! Go 'Clones!). I really don't intend for this to to become a baseball blog, so I'll try and mix it up. Once the Reds become "mathematically eliminated" (that's for Puddin'), my focus will shift elsewhere (who knows, with the way the Cubbies are playing, that day might come by the All-Star break). The Olympics are this year, love the Olympic. We elect a President this year, which is kind of important. The Dark Knight, 'nuff said. So more things are coming. But for now, its baseball.
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
Larry Bird Is Not Walking Through That Door
It's official. I'm sick of watching the 2008 NBA Finals.
And they start on Thursday.
Listen, I get it- it's Celtics vs. Lakers. There's something about seeing those two teams duke it our for the title that stirs up nostalgia in people, even today. And part of me really likes that it does; I'm all for knowing and remembering the history of your team. But seriously, the reflective montages have gone too far. I can understand showing one during the start of the series, that makes sense. Not three times a day for a week before the first game tips off. You want to preview the series? Great, just do so talking about the people who are actually going to play the games.
I bring this up because I'm starting to get worried about the upcoming Reds vs. Red Sox series next week. I'm pretty sure this is the first time Boston's come to Cincinnati since the 1975 World Series (considered by many to be one of, if not the greatest World Series ever), and I'm certain the city will be bombarded with highlights and stories from that series. In fact, it'll probably all anyone talks about that weekend (well, that, and the cure for cancer that I'm sure Jay Bruce will have discovered by then), and I think that's going to suck (the reminiscing, not the cure for cancer). The Saturday game will no doubt be the regional game on FOX, so you know they'll be milking 1975 for all its worth. The national coverage from FOX (and I'm sure ESPN will get in a few mentions) plus the local coverage sure to inundate the city; boy, I can't wait.
Now, I'm not saying that no one here cares about the 1975 World Series. That's the Big Red Machine, one of the few "sacred cows" in Cincinnati sports history (along with Joe Nuxhull, Oscar Robertson, the Ickey Shuffle..... okay, not the Icky Shuffle). But I would be willing to bet that the average Reds fan (of which I am included) would care less about hearing how great the '75 Series was and more about the fact that the Red Sox are coming to town with Dice-K and Big Papi on the DL. The schedule in June is brutal, and catching the defending World Champs without two major players would be a huge plus for the Reds (for my fantasy team, however, not so much).
Sports nostalgia is great. You can talk about the '75 World Series when Tony Perez, Carlton Fisk, and Sparky Anderson all go into the Hall of Fame together (in 2000, along with Marty Brenneman) because they were all there in 1975. Let's talk about the players that are here now. I'd rather hear another "Junior's career vs. Man-Ram's career" debate over another rehashing of whether Ed Armbrister interfered with Carlton Fisk in Game 3 (he totally didn't). As for the NBA finals, forget Bird, Parrish, and McHale, Magic, Kareem, and Worthy. Focus on KG and Kobe, Paul and Pau. Show highlights of what they've done this past year, not what the franchises did twenty years ago.
Oh well, I'm probably not going to watch the Finals anyway. It's Reds vs. Red Sox next week.
And they start on Thursday.
Listen, I get it- it's Celtics vs. Lakers. There's something about seeing those two teams duke it our for the title that stirs up nostalgia in people, even today. And part of me really likes that it does; I'm all for knowing and remembering the history of your team. But seriously, the reflective montages have gone too far. I can understand showing one during the start of the series, that makes sense. Not three times a day for a week before the first game tips off. You want to preview the series? Great, just do so talking about the people who are actually going to play the games.
I bring this up because I'm starting to get worried about the upcoming Reds vs. Red Sox series next week. I'm pretty sure this is the first time Boston's come to Cincinnati since the 1975 World Series (considered by many to be one of, if not the greatest World Series ever), and I'm certain the city will be bombarded with highlights and stories from that series. In fact, it'll probably all anyone talks about that weekend (well, that, and the cure for cancer that I'm sure Jay Bruce will have discovered by then), and I think that's going to suck (the reminiscing, not the cure for cancer). The Saturday game will no doubt be the regional game on FOX, so you know they'll be milking 1975 for all its worth. The national coverage from FOX (and I'm sure ESPN will get in a few mentions) plus the local coverage sure to inundate the city; boy, I can't wait.
Now, I'm not saying that no one here cares about the 1975 World Series. That's the Big Red Machine, one of the few "sacred cows" in Cincinnati sports history (along with Joe Nuxhull, Oscar Robertson, the Ickey Shuffle..... okay, not the Icky Shuffle). But I would be willing to bet that the average Reds fan (of which I am included) would care less about hearing how great the '75 Series was and more about the fact that the Red Sox are coming to town with Dice-K and Big Papi on the DL. The schedule in June is brutal, and catching the defending World Champs without two major players would be a huge plus for the Reds (for my fantasy team, however, not so much).
Sports nostalgia is great. You can talk about the '75 World Series when Tony Perez, Carlton Fisk, and Sparky Anderson all go into the Hall of Fame together (in 2000, along with Marty Brenneman) because they were all there in 1975. Let's talk about the players that are here now. I'd rather hear another "Junior's career vs. Man-Ram's career" debate over another rehashing of whether Ed Armbrister interfered with Carlton Fisk in Game 3 (he totally didn't). As for the NBA finals, forget Bird, Parrish, and McHale, Magic, Kareem, and Worthy. Focus on KG and Kobe, Paul and Pau. Show highlights of what they've done this past year, not what the franchises did twenty years ago.
Oh well, I'm probably not going to watch the Finals anyway. It's Reds vs. Red Sox next week.
Monday, June 2, 2008
Home of the Hoinke Classic
Western Bowl in Developer's Sights
I know I'm not a Westsider (never have been, never tried to be), but this is bad. Cincinnati can't lose Western Bowl. Where will West Side adolescents go if they can't hang out at Western Bowl ('cause let's face it, there's not much to do here if you're under 21, or even 18 for that matter)? And more importantly, what will happen to the Hoinke Classic?!?! I would hope the West Side would rise up as one and save Western Bowl from the wreaking ball. Like I said, this is bad...
I know I'm not a Westsider (never have been, never tried to be), but this is bad. Cincinnati can't lose Western Bowl. Where will West Side adolescents go if they can't hang out at Western Bowl ('cause let's face it, there's not much to do here if you're under 21, or even 18 for that matter)? And more importantly, what will happen to the Hoinke Classic?!?! I would hope the West Side would rise up as one and save Western Bowl from the wreaking ball. Like I said, this is bad...
Sunday, June 1, 2008
A Taste of Cincinnati
People that know me know that I often rave about the food here in Cincinnati. I still think the underlying subconscious reason I moved back here was for the food. And I've often been asked by non-Cincinnatians where they should eat if they happen to find themselves in Cincinnati.
(Okay, that's not true; no one's ever asked me that. But not because they're not interested in the food here, but because they don't ever envision themselves passing through Cincinnati.)
So, you're here in Cincinnati, where do you eat? These are the places you have to go to, and not in a "best reviewed cuisine" kind of way. The restaurants I'm talking about here are the ones that are purely Cincinnati, the places and dishes that define the area.
-Breakfast-
Place: Price Hill Chili
Location: There's only one, its on the west site
Dish: Goetta
Why: Price Hill Chili is a sacred place on the west side. And that's saying something considering that there's a church every two blocks in that part of town. Its the best place to get breakfast in the city, and the best for breakfast is goetta. I don't know what goetta is. There are people here to claim to know; I think they're lying. All I do know is that it's good (but its not Good, with a capital "G"; that's something different all together). Something like 99% of all the Goetta in the country is produced and eaten in Cincinnati. If that doesn't say "Cincinnati food," I don't know what does.
-Lunch-
Place: Skyline Chili
Location: Various around the city, but for local flavor, hit the one in Clifton
Dish: Cheese coney and/or 3-way
Why: Cincinnati is famous for one food, and that's our chili. Anytime anyone comes to Cincinnati and does a profile on the food here (I'm thinking specifically about football games, college and pro), they talk about the chili. And don't be like my dad the first time he ate at Skyline- you don't get this chili in a bowl. You get in on a hotdog or over spaghetti. With cheese. Lots and lots of cheese. If they offer you a bib, wear it. Chili stains are tough to get out.
-Mid-day Snack-
Place: Greater's Ice Cream
Location: Various, just pick one
Dish: Something with chocolate chips
Why: If you like ice cream (and really, who doesn't), you'll love Greater's. The chocolate chips are massive. Its awesome. If you're in the mood for soft serve ice cream, you've got to make the trek up to West Chester and get an orange-vanilla swirl from the Cone. Its the building shaped like an ice cream cone. You should also try and stop at a UDF (that's United Dairy Farmers, for the uninitiated) and pick up some Busken cookies. They'll probably have a smiley face on them.
-Dinner-
Place: Montgomery Inn
Location: The boathouse is nice, but you've got to go to the original in Montgomery
Dish: Ribs
Why: Bob Hope loved Montgomery Inn. That's pretty much good enough for me. Seriously though, the secret is all in the sauce. You can pour it on anything and it'll taste good. Another place you're going to want to wear the bib. And just order the ribs. If you order something else, someone in your party will order ribs, you'll have a taste, and then wish you'd ordered the ribs. So save yourself the trouble, get the ribs (with the side of Saratoga chips).
-Late Night-
Place: LaRosa's Pizza
Location: Wherever you happen to be, get it delivered (bonus points if you're in a bowling alley)
Dish: Pizza
Why: This is Cincinnati's pizza chain. You really can't go wrong with any of the pizza's here. But if its on the menu, you have to get the Montgomery Inn topper; if you've followed the plan up until now, you'll know why. And order more than you think you'll eat that night so you have leftovers in the morning. This may be weird to say, but LaRosa's is the best cold pizza there is.
So there it is. A one-day culinary tour of the Queen City, spotlighting the very essence of Cincinnati.
(Okay, that's not true; no one's ever asked me that. But not because they're not interested in the food here, but because they don't ever envision themselves passing through Cincinnati.)
So, you're here in Cincinnati, where do you eat? These are the places you have to go to, and not in a "best reviewed cuisine" kind of way. The restaurants I'm talking about here are the ones that are purely Cincinnati, the places and dishes that define the area.
-Breakfast-
Place: Price Hill Chili
Location: There's only one, its on the west site
Dish: Goetta
Why: Price Hill Chili is a sacred place on the west side. And that's saying something considering that there's a church every two blocks in that part of town. Its the best place to get breakfast in the city, and the best for breakfast is goetta. I don't know what goetta is. There are people here to claim to know; I think they're lying. All I do know is that it's good (but its not Good, with a capital "G"; that's something different all together). Something like 99% of all the Goetta in the country is produced and eaten in Cincinnati. If that doesn't say "Cincinnati food," I don't know what does.
-Lunch-
Place: Skyline Chili
Location: Various around the city, but for local flavor, hit the one in Clifton
Dish: Cheese coney and/or 3-way
Why: Cincinnati is famous for one food, and that's our chili. Anytime anyone comes to Cincinnati and does a profile on the food here (I'm thinking specifically about football games, college and pro), they talk about the chili. And don't be like my dad the first time he ate at Skyline- you don't get this chili in a bowl. You get in on a hotdog or over spaghetti. With cheese. Lots and lots of cheese. If they offer you a bib, wear it. Chili stains are tough to get out.
-Mid-day Snack-
Place: Greater's Ice Cream
Location: Various, just pick one
Dish: Something with chocolate chips
Why: If you like ice cream (and really, who doesn't), you'll love Greater's. The chocolate chips are massive. Its awesome. If you're in the mood for soft serve ice cream, you've got to make the trek up to West Chester and get an orange-vanilla swirl from the Cone. Its the building shaped like an ice cream cone. You should also try and stop at a UDF (that's United Dairy Farmers, for the uninitiated) and pick up some Busken cookies. They'll probably have a smiley face on them.
-Dinner-
Place: Montgomery Inn
Location: The boathouse is nice, but you've got to go to the original in Montgomery
Dish: Ribs
Why: Bob Hope loved Montgomery Inn. That's pretty much good enough for me. Seriously though, the secret is all in the sauce. You can pour it on anything and it'll taste good. Another place you're going to want to wear the bib. And just order the ribs. If you order something else, someone in your party will order ribs, you'll have a taste, and then wish you'd ordered the ribs. So save yourself the trouble, get the ribs (with the side of Saratoga chips).
-Late Night-
Place: LaRosa's Pizza
Location: Wherever you happen to be, get it delivered (bonus points if you're in a bowling alley)
Dish: Pizza
Why: This is Cincinnati's pizza chain. You really can't go wrong with any of the pizza's here. But if its on the menu, you have to get the Montgomery Inn topper; if you've followed the plan up until now, you'll know why. And order more than you think you'll eat that night so you have leftovers in the morning. This may be weird to say, but LaRosa's is the best cold pizza there is.
So there it is. A one-day culinary tour of the Queen City, spotlighting the very essence of Cincinnati.
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