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Northwoods Vampires

July 8, 2015 by Jon

At dusk. At dawn. When the light hangs low in the summer sky and the water rests calmly, still as glass. They descend, hovering atop the lake like a malevolent mist, enveloping all that lives, breathes and swims. Who are they? And where did they come from? What brings them to here, to this our quiet, calm stretch of the bay?

Is it for sport? Survival? Or some sort of sinister combination of indulgence and hunger? Feast or famine.

I remain curious. Anxious. And as I look out from my front porch window, with coffee stained lips pressing firmly against the flimsy metal screening, all I can see is swarm after swarm of blood thirsty angler. Engines off, vessels silent. Undetected by their prey. Wading. Waiting. For the right moment.

And when that time comes, these vampires of the Northwoods cast their fangs into the water with the calculated precision of a cold blooded killer. Searching, lusting after their trophy. The one that got away.

Some appetites are impossible to satisfy. One fish. Two fish. Three fish all in the bucket and it’s still not enough for these undead hunters of Wisconsin.

I have been tempted to join before, to fly with the flock is human nature after all. But these fishermen and women are not alive. Nor are they dead. They exist as lifeless, soulless omnivores whose single pursuit is to survive for all eternity with nothing more than a rod in their hand.

My life means more to me than that. I choose not to be defined by death. The fish are my friends. What lies beneath these shores remains a mystery, better explored by those who make their home in my nightmares and day terrors.

For they, they are the vampires of the Northwoods.

U.S. Open Tennis: A Premature Passing of the Torch

September 9, 2014 by Jon

To be clear, the 2014 men’s final of the U.S. Open did not represent an end of an era. Before Marin Cilic of Croatia dismissed Kei Nishikori of Japan in straight sets there were no funeral pyres lit, no songs of remembrance sung. The sadness that swirled through Ashe Stadium like the gulf stream had little to do with the quality of play or the crowning of an unfit champion as the 6’6” Cilic, with his rangy athleticism and powerful service game, gave the crowd plenty to cheer about.

No the real reason for remorse, the factor that few fans and ticket agencies anticipated, was that for the first time since the 2005 Australian Open a major men’s singles final took place without at least one member of the Big Four. But just because there was no Federer, Nadal, Djokovic or Murray does not mean that tennis is on the verge of a cosmic power shift. Over time, Monday night will prove to be more of an anomaly than a trend as the demise of men’s tennis current standard bearers is being grossly overstated.

The cause for concern comes from the fact that for nearly a decade the Big Four has brought both consistency and comfort to tennis fans. We could all count on tuning into a Grand Slam final and watching at least one of the sports all time greats compete. That familiarity is important to the brand of tennis and it’s not going away, at least not any time soon. Djokovic and Murray are still very much in the prime of their careers and even at the ripe old age of 33 Federer still covers the court with the grace of a man half his age. Nadal has battled back from injuries before and we can all but pencil him in for the finals at Roland Garros next June.

But when the torch is finally past to the next generation of men’s tennis stars fans must take comfort in the reality that new names and rivalries will rise and take shape just as they did before the Big Four when when it was McEnroe and Connors to Becker and Edberg to Sampras and Agassi and so on and so forth. Cilic and Nishikori might not be household quantities yet, at least not in this country, but eventually their names might be capable of lighting up the marquee as tennis’ next big stars.

Just not yet…

The Allegory of the Cave for the 21st Century

July 23, 2014 by Jon

To Plato, with Gratitude

Deep beneath the stadium lies a cave. In this cave stand tall compartments. Hanging in the compartments are various pieces of equipment. Belts. Pads. Helmets. Cleats. All the tools of the trade. Facing these compartments are players. These players have spent their entire lives in this cave and no very little of the world outside other than the muffled adulation from adoring fans. All that they know, all that they care to understand exists here, deep beneath the stadium.

Of course the players have each other. They call themselves a ‘brotherhood’ because to them, this is what family means. Their perception of how the world works, how the world operates, is formed from filtered conversations with one another as they sit and stare at the compartments in front of them. Since they rarely escape the confines of the cave they know very little of the outside world, the world that exists beyond the media rooms. Beyond the concessions stands and parking lots. Beyond the millions upon millions of admirers.

Assume that one of these players was to break free from the chains that bind them to their cave deep beneath the stadium. That player, exposed to life beyond the stadium walls for the first time would be traumatized as their bodies and minds adjust to the way the world works and thinks beyond the comfort of the cave. For the first time this player would encounter perspectives and preferences never heard or discussed before in the cave. At least not publicly. In the society beyond the cave people are accepting of differences. Not just because it’s convenient or because it’s fits the system but because it is moral, logical thing to do.

When this player returns to the cave deep beneath the stadium he visits each of the compartments and tells his fellow teammates about his experiences in the outside world and how people in normal society typically operate with understanding and compassion. He talks about how in the real world the term ‘brotherhood’ refers to all of humanity not just the players in the cave.

His fellow players would not believe him because they have never experienced life outside the walls of their cave therefore the world that is being described to them cannot be real. Acceptance is only an idea to them. an idea which is given plenty of lip service but in their sheltered reality is representative of a double standard. What is said publicly in front of the camera is quite different then what is acted on stage behind the closed doors of the cave.

When the player asks his leaders if they’d be interested in exposing the cave to a more diverse spectrum of ideas and interests the leader say ‘no’, too much of a distraction. They have serious jobs to do. Better to remain amongst the safety and protection of like minded souls. Yet to this player, this particular stance is hypocritical and prejudiced. How as a leader can you tolerate some ‘distractions’ and not others? Is is simply the difference between being a first round draft pick and the first openly gay player?

What these players and leaders fail to realize in their cave deep beneath the stadium is that change is inevitable and that eventually the barriers that keep them protected from the rest of society will fall down. Only then will they realize that acceptance is a real thing.

Fans of the New York Mets vs Citi Field

May 26, 2014 by Jon

Your Honor, esteemed members of the Jury. I stand before you today on behalf of all long suffering New York Mets fans who wish to no longer sit idly by and watch their beloved baseball team struggle through yet another disappointing season. Something needs to be done to change the fortunes of this franchise and it is my duty today to present the case for innocent fans like Mr. Met, Jerry Seinfeld, and Michael “The Situation” Sorrentino.

The problem is not talent as the Mets have enough young starting pitching in the pipeline to contend in the NL East for years to come. Trading a few of those assets for a big time bat, cough-cough Giancarlo Stanton cough-cough Troy Tulowitzki cough-cough, and all of a sudden you’re maybe talking about the first World Series victory since 1986.

No, the real reason why the New York Mets stink is because of Citi Field. Now your Honor, I would be remiss if I didn’t at least acknowledge what a sensitive topic the Mets ballpark has become across the many media outlets in the Tri-State area and while there are a few radio/tv personalties that will remain nameless – cough-cough Michael Kay cough-cough – who suggest that the Mets players need to “suck it up” and stop looking for excuses. However, anyone who has watched the Mets play on a regular basis since they moved into Citi Field back in 2009 understands that the ballpark, as presently constructed, is preventing the New York Mets from becoming a winning baseball team.

Case in point, this past Saturday the then 21-25 Mets hosted the underperforming 18-31 Arizona Diamondbacks in an all together forgettable matchup between two cellar dwelling teams. The D-backs won by a final score of 3-2 and the primary reason why the Mets only managed to score 2 measly runs was Citi Field.

Look no further your Honor than the bottom of the 3rd inning, Mets already trailing 3-0. With 1 out and runners on 1st and 2nd, Curtis Granderson steps up to the plate and on a 1-0 count drills a 79 mph changeup from Josh Collmenter deep into the right center field gap. The crowd stands in unison fully expecting a game tying/momentum shifting/season saving 3-run blast off the bat of their free agent slugger when, as if it had run into the wall of smoke emanating from the Shake Shack fryolator, the ball plops down on the warning track and hops over the outfield fence. Ground rule double. Only the runner on 2nd base scores and after a Chris Young strike out and a Lucas Duda pop up , the Mets headed to the top of the 4th inning still trailing by two runs.

Ladies and Gentleman, to give you a sense of how devastating this very moment was to the Mets team and fans I present Exhibit A a highly scientific diagram demonstrating the impact of Citi Field on Granderson’s should have been home run from the 3rd inning of Saturday’s game vs Arizona.

Exhibit A

Clearly, Curtis Granderson did all he could to help his new team win. In the end it was his ballpark that let him, his teammates and the fans down. I now present to the court Exhibit B highlighting the Mets’ team emotions following this pivotal moment on Saturday.

Exhibit B

The defense will argue that Citi Field is not the reason the Mets are not a good baseball team and that the real reason they lost by a final score of 3-2 on Saturday was not Granderson’s ground rule double but rather Lucas Duda stranding 7 runners on base. Regardless of the facts, what the defense is overlooking is how damaging these losses have become to the collective psyche of Mets fans.

Here now is the final piece of evidence today labeled Exhibit S as in “sad” which shows the general lack of optimism amongst Mets fans compared to every other fan base in MLB.

Exhibit S

So as any reasonable human can attest, the problem with the Mets has nothing to do with the hitting coach or Jose Valverde. No, the reason the New York Mets lose much more than they win is because of Citi Field. Mets fans deserve much better your Honor.

The Coach Potato: Becoming A Beer Snob

March 23, 2014 by Jon

The Coach Potato: Lessons For a Lifestyle That Cannot Possibly Be Sustained

Episode One: Becoming A Beer Snob

Whereas wine was the drink of kings, beer has and will always be the people’s choice. Which is one reason why the craft beer craze has become so frustrating. It use to be you’d go to a store and pick up a couple simple sixers of Budweiser or Miller High Life (Heineken if you really felt like splurging). Now? Too many choices. Plus, even your blue collar beer drinking friends have all developed particular palates which only adds to the confusion as you pace up and down the microbrew aisle looking like you misplaced your car keys.

If you really want to impress your friends, but don’t have the slightest idea about the difference between filtered an unfiltered (duh, it’s all about the forced carbonation), then here are two suggestions.

Suggestion #1: Beerviz (link via Deadspin) has a helpful interactive guide that allows anyone who passed high school geometry to follow the line and find a fancy sounding beer that may cost a few extra dollars but is sure to impress the most taste discerning of beer snobs.

Suggestion #2: And if you’re worried about the authenticity of the beer, then download the Craft Check app (link via Uncrate) and use your phone to ensure that your beer is craft enough.

And if these suggestions don’t help then find some new friends. Life’s too short.