We are officially in the doldrums of summer. The Phillies suck (again) after one fun series with the Cubs before completely shitting the bed against the pathetic Padres, everyone is online arguing about bad chicken sandwiches that will give them type 2 diabetes and my Twitter account is being harangued by people who think “Friends” was just as good of a show as “Seinfeld.”
This is indeed a dark time right now. Still three more weeks until the Eagles and the grim specter of another Flyers season is looming in the Autumn wind to depress us all yet again.
We need to do something big. Something splashy. Something OUT OF THE BOX to infuse this city with some energy.
You know what that means….it’s time to arbitrarily rank baseball movies because I have nothing better to do with my life!
July 22, 2019…a date which will live in infamy. A date where so many innocently logged onto social media and found themselves in need of a new pair of pants.
A day which will be remembered by all as the date the Ben Simmons jump shot video hit the internet and showcased the $170 million man working on the most obvious weakness of his game and displaying what looks to be a much more confident touch on his shot.
My god. His shot is like the sun…it’s so bright and dazzling you can’t stare at it directly or you’ll be blinded from its beauty.
And yes, I know Markelle Fultz did the EXACT same thing last summer and we all went crazy for it. But this is different. How is it different? Fuck you, that’s how.
Markelle Fultz, embattled former #1 NBA pick and scourge of 76ers fans everywhere took to his instagram two days ago and announced he will be hosting a basketball camp at his alma mater Dematha Catholic High School in Maryland from Aug. 5 to 9.
Now, I’m no big city lawyer, and correct me if I’m wrong here, but for one to successfully host a basketball camp one of the most important aspects is that you can successfully PLAY basketball yourself, right?
Maybe hosting a basketball camp when you can’t lift your arm over your shoulder without passing out from the pain may not be the best idea, ehh Markelle?
It’s the eve of the Fourth of July. You’re nervously wondering how you got yourself into this jam again….for the second time in four years you’ve found yourself slapdash in the middle of another Fourth of July hot dog eating contest.
Calm down. We can get through this. First off, I salute you (again) for ignoring all of your doctor’s advice and the pleas of your loved ones to stuff as many processed meat tubes into your mouth as humanly possible. It’s one of the finest things you can do as an American and legally protected by the 17th amendment of the Constitution (please don’t look that up).
All eyes will be on you tomorrow, so strap in fatty and take these suggestions to your cholesterol blocked heart and let’s do our best out there, ok tubby?
We’re here to help you get through this. Keep your wits about you, keep your head on a swivel, and hit that jump to avoid humiliation at the hands of other morbidly obese competitive eaters.
It’s salty, dead eyes gazed down upon South Street travelers for three years, beckoning seafood lovers into Ralic’s on South like a siren drawing weary sailors to be dashed upon their rocks with their haunting melodies.
Or it’s just a kickass 7-foot by 7-foot styrofoam octopus that David Ralic, owner of the eight-limbed mollusk, wants to sell to the highest bidder.
We’re one day away from a pivotal 2019 NBA Draft, one day away from the 76ers filling in several areas of needs with young collegiate players, and one day away from seeing which draft pick will fall victim to the strangest curse in all of professional sports….the curse of the 76ers 1st round draft pick.
CollarGate. BurnerGate. Eric Jr. Day. Move on, find a new slant. However you remember May 29, 2018, please take a moment to hold those special memories in your heart and recall this day one year ago when Bryan Colangelo, the biggest stooge in the long and gloried history of the 76ers, revealed his true self and humiliated a city with his extraordinary pettiness.
One year ago Colangelo’s world crumbled. A several thousand word piece of investigatory journalism was published on The Ringer by Ben Detrick, reporting curious “coincidences” of several seemingly random twitter accounts that spent all day, every day, tweeting criticisms about 76ers players, the coaching staff, and praising the moves of then 76ers GM Bryan “Spelled with a Y” Colangelo. An anonymous tip to Detrick and the Ringer got the ball rolling, and before Bryan could wilt away in his large-collared shirts the jig was up.