If you’re like me, you know who Phill is and you’ve seen the movie “The Grey” featuring the incomparable Liam Neeson.
America is used to being lied to by Bills.
Last week was a rough one for a few Coastal Pointees.
I have never quite fully understood the true meaning of Indian River basketball super-fan and unofficial ambassador of the student section Queen Bratton’s “What the woo woo?” chant until last Friday night, when Delmar’s Larry Ennis miraculously sunk not one, but two buzzer-beating three-pointers to force triple overtime (which I heard was a pretty good column in the Coastal Point, by the way) and eventually lead to a 95-91 victory for the Wildcats.
One of my first summer jobs ever was selling hotdogs on the beach in Fenwick. It was great. I got to take skim breaks, eat free hotdogs, and even call out when the waves were good, because the owners were pretty cool. Plus, I was really good at it. I only wish I could be half as good of a writer as I was a hotdog salesman.
Before you say anything about how “Pro Bore” when referring to the Pro Bowl isn’t my best work when it comes to wordplay — cut me some slack, I just got over the flu.
Clearly the NCAA hasn’t seen any of the Terminator movies because for more than 15 years they let a computer system run the show with what they liked to call “The BCS” playoff system. And much like the decision to cast Arnold Schwarzenegger in the film, and his eight-year stint as the governor of California, for that matter, the end result was pretty terrible.
Every year I make the same New Year’s resolutions. This year, I’m going to volunteer more. This year, I’m going to eat healthier. This year, I’m going to write more interesting columns and not turn them in at the last minute before press deadline. But, just like most New Year’s resolutions, they never seem to pan out.
Seattle has the 12th Man. Cleveland has the Dawg Pound. South Africa has those weird vuvuzela horns they used during the World Cup. And now, Indian River High School has their own official student section cheering on the Indians this basketball season.
I don’t usually bring up politics. Partly because this is a sports column, but mostly because I twice failed “Introduction to American Politics and Government” during my one-year stint at community college. In my defense, I didn’t go to class very often because I was busy surfing, which is a sport, and considering that I’m now a sports reporter, I’d say it all worked out for the best.
Well, 62 hours of traveling, one broken board (thanks a lot, American Airlines), one gnarly scar from hitting the reef on my second day, and about 100 Bintangs later I’m right back in good old Sussex County and ready for basketball season.
So I’m leaving. On a jet plane. Don’t know when I’ll be back again.
Washington Redskins Head Coach Jay Gruden had a decision to make going into last Sunday’s matchup against the Minnesota Vikings. Start the quarterback with the hot hand? Or the one with the $21 million contract?
There’s been a lot of speculation this week as to why the Seattle Seahawks decided to trade wide receiver Percy Harvin to the New York Jets — much of it being based off of rumors, hunches and whatever else Adam Shefter says.
It’s that time of year again. And, no, I’m not talking about the time of year when the leaves start changing colors and the days start getting shorter. I’m talking about the time of year when sports pundits start breaking out references to former NFL Head Coach Jim Mora’s famous “Playoffs!?
Tripple Overtime: Maybe NCAA athletes should get paid, but Jameis Winston should stop being such an idiot
I was fully prepared to put something together on my buddy Phill’s top 10 favorite sports-related Halloween costumes for this week’s column. Then I heard Florida State quarterback Jameis Winston’s name on ESPN, which, obviously, could only mean one thing — he’s done something stupid again.
Everyone knows Peyton Manning from his brilliant acting in Papa John’s pizza commercials, but what you may not know is that he’s also a pretty good quarterback.
I need to figure out the whole patent process.
It was the perfect storm... Wait — let me finish. It was the perfect storm that led to me to missing out on the perfect storm.
Pardon my reluctancy to believe that the Baltimore Orioles have clinched the American League East and currently own one of the best records in Major League Baseball — but if it helps you understand, I’m in my mid-twenties (which, obviously, includes the ages 21 to 29).
When Ray Rice had to describe the Feb. 15 incident in which he struck his then-fiancée and now-wife, Janay Rice, he explained exactly what happened.
Well, it’s that time of year again. The tourists have left, the kids are in school, and the stress of the summer season has started to fade.
Last Wednesday started like most of them typically do for me. I woke up a 6 a.m., started the coffee, contemplated doing some pushups, decided that I was still too handsome to have to work out, and sat down at my desk to finish up a few stories before our 10 a.m. story deadline and my 10:30 shift behind the bar at Papa Grande’s.
Just weeks after the surfing and skateboarding world was stunned by the loss of Shogo Kubo, one of its legendary originals, the time came to say goodbye to the original, as Dogtown’s tow-headed golden child Jay Adams passed away in his sleep last week from an apparent heart attack.
For an avid ocean-goer, or for me at least, there are few things more terrifying than the Discovery Channel’s “Shark Week.” There are, however, a couple of things that come close — the obviously inevitable “Zombie Apocalypse,” my ex-girlfriend getting a hold of my new phone number, somehow getting stuck in line at the bank behind Gary Busey… The list goes on.
My column didn’t run last week. I wrote it. I submitted it. I never saw it in print.
By now you may have heard of the “Skateboard Cop.” And before you make any assumptions on what that is if you have not heard of it, let me clarify — it is not the sequel to “Paul Blart: Mall Cop,” featuring a portly Kevin James, who needs to learn how to skateboard in order to save yet another mall from yet another absurd premise, solidifying my long-held theory that Adam Sandler isn’t even trying anymore and is, in fact, just messing with us now.
People are too easily offended these days. We live in a society that demands politically correct terminology, to the point where I don’t even know what the right term to call anyone is anymore. One term offends one person and a different term offends another. It’s exhausting — ridiculous, even — and it’s certainly other adjectives that further emphasize the point I’m trying to make.
I’ve spent the majority of my Fourth of Julys in Fenwick Island — usually working, sometimes lucky enough to get to the Fenwick Fourth of July party on my street before the fireworks go off or my Uncle Pat drinks the last beer.
I don’t get star-struck very easily — especially since getting into journalism. I’ve interviewed some of the best surfers and surf-film makers in the world and, yes, I would like to take this opportunity to name drop all of them — Craig Anderson before he had his own movie and signature board, Matt Meola after he won Taylor Steele’s first ever “Innersection” contest and Taylor Steele himself. This past winter, I got to interview WNBA star Ellena Delle Donne.