Let it go.

Ever since I can remember...I've been a...a...shit, this is hard to admit... Ugh, fine. I'll tell you: I've been a...a...

A sore loser.

Phew, there. I said it. Nope, nuh-uh - doesn't feel better like I thought it would, it still burns. But, fine - let me explain further.

As a child I used to cheat. Not in real sports, I would never do that (did I mention I have a skewed moral compass?) but in card games, board games like Sorry, Clue, Chess, etc etc. I'd cheat my little heart out. & I'm not going to lie - I still do.

I just can't stand losing. When I know it's coming, I feel it building in my stomach. This ball of anguish that is silently screaming "you suck, you suck, you suck, how could you LOSE!? Don't you know how much we hate that!?" As the game continues, that ball of anguish continues up from my stomach through my intestines & into my heart where it settles like an angry weight.

Now, this occurs not only in my own personal games which have resulted in various temper tantrums (i.e. I've swept chess pieces off a board mid-game against my brother in anger as well as overturned a Sorry board after being told "I'm soooooorrrrrrry!") but also when watching my various beloved sporting teams. Big Boston losses have led me to throw things, punch things & shed furious angry tears.

And thus brings me to crux of this post: the most recent Super Bowl loss of my beloved Patriots.

I didn't watch ESPN for a week after the loss (to date, I still haven't been able to watch SportsCenter), I still rush to change the channel every time that stupid Disney ad comes on with Eli Manning's stupid face grinning his dim-witted smile, I have yet to reactive my iPhone ESPN apps breaking news...in short, my media blackout is still not fully "in." This was my way of "handling" the loss: complete blindness & pushing the emotions down, much like one represses horrifying childhood memories of school-yard taunting (oh crap - now I'm hearing "Johanna hog! Johanna hog!" chanting in my head...)

I obviously don't do loss well. Not in sports, not in life. I'd rather pretend it didn't happen, the proverbial ostrich head in the sand. These blinders work out well...for the most part.

But tonight, while watching the Bruins lose handily to the Rangers (while I love America: red, white & blue has NOT been kind to me lately...) I came to realization (one that is for most, an easy fact of life):

You win some, you lose some.

I can get mad. I can wipe pieces off a chess board & throw a fit. I can cheat by peeking at my opponent's hand. What I can't do is change the outcome of the game (or life if we should decide to apply this lesson to a higher level.) The only thing I can control is how I react to this loss.

Does this mean I'm going to watch replays of the loss? Abso-frickin-lutely not. I'd rather burn my eyes out with hot pokers. What I can accept are the following:

We lost. To a team, that while they may not have been better all around, they were - suck it up & say it - better that night. They scored more points. The Patriots made stupid plays/mistakes. At the end of the day, the Patriots lost. But they were also one of only two teams that made it to the final. The Jets weren't in the finals. Brady & Belichick are still gods. At least it wasn't a perfect season to blow.

And finally, the most important lesson: the Patriots did not deserve to win that game.

It's a hard truth to swallow, but that is often the case in life.


And there will always be another season. I will always be a Patriots fan. I won't jump ship in shitty seasons or leap back on in great ones. I pride myself on being a full-fledged pre-2004 Red Sox fan. I've seen bigger choke jobs in sports, I've had the Sox crush my very soul while living in the heart of Yankee country, watched the Bruins go up 3 games on the Flyers in the playoffs only to lose the series but I've been rewarded for my patience & dedication.

Because while losing sucks, nothing is better than sticking through and by a team for the big win because it makes it all the more sweeter.

Playlist Bliss

I've recently (slightly) caught the running bug. While it's still an almost daily struggle to get my ass to the gym, I have been doing well as far as being able to run without my lung plopping onto the floor. December saw me complete my very first 5K & my goal for 2012 is a half-marathon.

That being said, I get the majority of my motivation while actually on the treadmill/road from the very loud ear buds that are connected to my iPhone so I thought I'd share my top beats to beat the pavement to!

There are clearly a ton of run playlists out there so I'll do my best to throw out some different tunes.

1. Glock Nines - Ratatat remix

 
One of my all-time favorites to run to/listen to while driving. The smoother sound coupled with the harsher rhymes helps me keep on trucking. It also has a good rhythm that I like to time my stride with.

2. Shot Clock (Avicii Levels remix) - Aer

I usually play this when I feel like I'm about to quit. It's a quick, fast-paced track & I like to use it as a wrap-up/high-level interval since its only 2 minutes long. Running to this & reminding myself I can drop the pace when it's done gives a great final hoomph to my workout.

2b. Levels - Aviici (Skrillex Remix)

This is another remix of Levels but I use this for my mid-run motivation since its longer & has a relatively steady beat pace to it.

3. Little Talks - Of Monsters & Men

This has pretty much been on repeat in my car, home & workouts. Initially I just enjoyed the band/song but the horns are helpful in keeping me going. Another good one for a steadier, slower pace rather than a speedy interval.

4. Chop Suey - System of a Down

This is one of the heavier metal songs I like to run to & gives you a real 'oomph' push when you're lacking that drive. Good for those speed bursts too.

5. My Delirium - Ladyhawke

Solid song & beat that is a good one for a quick, steady pace.

6. The XX Gon' Give It To You - DMX x The XX mashup

Another one with a smoother melody coupled with harsher rhymes. I loved DMX & just realized he still scares the bajeezus out of me - I would def never want to encounter him in a darkened alley.

So there we have it! A few tracks to get you going. I clearly know nothing about music but I do know these all give me the motivation to get up & get out!

Lion Lion Forest, yaaaall

AKA Tiger Tiger Woods, ya'll.
 
[So, clearly I've been terrible at my 2012 NY resolution of this being the year of GGtS but it's not too late to start now soo welcome to the new year, let's hope I can get some readers!]

I just got off the phone with my father who started the conversation off with "Tiger's back!" as though this was something I was interested in. Well let me tell you - it's not. Not because I don't occasionally enjoy golf (which I am not ashamed to admit because there are some pretty cool cats out there in the PGA, past & present included) but because I HATE Tiger Woods.

Clearly, hate for Tiger is nothing new but I feel mine is special because I always thought he was a bit of a, well for lack of a better word, raging dbag. When it all came out that he wasn't the King of Golf with the stainless steel reputation that was a loving family man I was gleeful & had a wicked sense of vindication.

My family, on the other hand, have been Team Woods since day 1 even with everything coming out that his motto was 'Sinking putts, nailing sluts.' Countless arguments about this went down in the Murphy household with my mum being his biggest advocate. So I'll breakdown their arguments, my rebuttals & why I will hate him forever & always.

1. "He's a golfer, not a saint. Who cares if he cheated? It's not about his private life."

FALSE. Athletes nowadays are, like it or not, held to higher standards. They are role models for children whether they want to be or not. The way Tiger framed his life was that he was a family man, all around good guy that wanted privacy but lapped up the attention of being a superstar, millionaire golfer.

Don't believe me? I now submit Exhibit A for the court:

Exhibit A

Happy family portrait, dogs, smiling Tiger, small baby. Hmm...looks staged to me! And looks like he's trying to portray that wholesome, all around good guy vibes.

2. "But no athlete has ever dominated his sport like he has!"

True. BUT while I cannot argue against facts of him being a dominant player & the best in the game, I can argue over the manner in which he held himself with he was NOT winning matches. Woods throws tantrums, swears, throws his club & in general acts like this is his first time on a main professional stage.

Exhibit B 

I particularly enjoy the 40 second mark with the F-bomb. Class. Act.

While I'm not adverse to swearing or passion in a game, I am adverse to the manner of doucheyness that Tiger carried/carries himself with. He's surly & grumpy - complete opposite of his previous reputation of all-around good guy. If you're going to be like that, fine. But don't pretend to be something you're not.

My biggest argument against him was if you're going to be a sexaholic, crazy, swearing, passionate golfer - embrace it. Don't get married. Don't have kids. Don't cheat on your wife by nailing a bunch of hookers. The only reason he didn't do that was simple: money. Sponsors tend to frown upon their athletes paying women for sex, who'da thunk it?

3. He. Is. Cheap. There are numerous stories of his stinginess out there. He even garnered the title of cheapest celebrity tipper in 2011! Go Tiger!

As a former waitress, I judge you on how you treat those you deem 'below' you in status. So if you're famous or rich or even just a regular job I am absolutely judging the crap out of you when I see how you treat waiters, concierge, busboys, bellboys, etc. Particularly knowing that you can afford to be a generous tipper & choose not to is what really burns my toast.

Now I'm not saying you need to throw money around at any and everyone but if you receive good service (which - being rich and famous - you undoubtedly will) you should leave, at the very LEAST, 20%. I'm piss broke & unemployed & would never dream of leaving less than 20 - hell, I tip 15% if the service is shitty.

So those are my reasons: I've always hated the man, always will. Don't care if "he's back!" because in my eyes, he will always be a miserable sod of a human being, regardless of how phenom he is on the course. It's just nice to know a majority of the people out there also loathe him now.

Gym Etiquette From a Psycho

First off one quick thing to address - 2012 will be the year of the GGtS! Meaning I will make a solid effort to update daily even if it's only a quick one but this is something I've wanted to pursue & hopefully any readers enjoy my odd posts about sports.

Now on to the actual post which is more a psychotic rant of my biggest pet peeves regarding trips to the gym. So in no particular order (unless I change my mind, which I might) here are my following peeves:

1. If there is an entire row of treadmills/ellipticals/bikes do NOT & I repeat, do NOT take the one directly next to me or any other poor soul. Maybe you want to watch the TV I'm in front of. Maybe you're thinking I'll be a talker & help your workout fly by. Think again. You can see the row of TVs just fine if you're one more over from it. I listen to music so loud I wouldn't be able to hear a fire alarm going off. Also, I don't like people as a general rule of thumb & that only heightens the second I get to the gym. So keep to the rule I always go by: pick a station that has no one on either side if possible. If it's not possible, well then avoid the sweaty, brunette girl, wearing a Bruins tee, glaring at you & just move right along the row.

2. I sweat. Like...a lot. Picture a 400 lb dude changing another 400 lb dude that just stole his bucket of KFC. Now take the combined amount those two tubbos sweat in their sprint for crispy fried perfection & you'll get a picture of how I look when/after working out. So looking like that the absolute last thing I want is for you - friend and foe (stranger) alike - to talk to me. If I know you - wave. If I don't & for some bizarre reason you feel the desire to talk to me just don't. Odds are I'll smile tightly, give a one word response & move along.

3. We get it - there will always be super attractive people in the world. Unfortunately these super attractive humans also go to the gym (annoying, I know.) If you're skinny & fit: awesome. That's not an easy feat to accomplish nowadays with all the deliciously terrible food there is in the world. But please, for the love of God, do not look at us lesser mortals as though we don't deserve to be in the same area as you are. Yes I am breathing as though my lung is about to appear on the bottom of this treadmill & go 'SPLAT' right into the wall but I'm trying. I'm at the gym in order to appear a bit more like you as hard as that may be to believe. So stop looking at me with disgust, or I just might aim my vom in your direction when it all becomes too much.

4. For the love of all that's holy, wipe your machine down! I don't like doing it either but it must be done. My skin is uber sensitive & is pretty much allergic to my own sweat let alone all the nastiness of other peoples' residue left all over the machines.

Welp, that's it for right now.

FFF - the Bye-Guy Follow Up

So I took my complaint about not getting my easy Bye game to a higher power in our league - the Commish.

I verbally harassed, in the usual manner of virtual yelling (caps lock), the commissioner of my league on gchat about how I had yet to have my opportunity to play the crappy team. My outrage was meant with confusion that I had yet to play our BG and an appropriate amount of sympathy about the fact that my team is absolutely terrible. That was until our commissioner paid a little visit to the history of our league and saw that I played the BG in Week 2, prior to his reveal as notorious Fantasy Football figure that he went on to be.

Crap (insert blushing, over-reactive emoticon here.)

Fantasy Football Figures: the Bye-Guy

Welcome to the second installment of FFF! This week we address what most people would refer to in their league as "the Ghost" or in my view: the Bye-Guy.

Not much can be said of this elusive & sly character as he is an anomaly in most leagues. While there can be a number of Zealots in any given league, there tends to be only one Bye-Guy.

How to recognize him:

1. Might be gungho in the beginning while discussing the league & agreeing to participate or he could have been dragged in against his own free will in order to even out the number of teams in the league. Either way, it's hard to spot the Bye-Guy in the beginning.

2. Usually auto-drafts in a league that frowns upon auto-draft coming up with a lame excuse why he couldn't: "I hit traffic & won't be at a computer," "I'm out to dinner - I'll log in as soon as I get home," "I broke my mouse-clicking finger" etc. etc.

3. Reveals himself in the second or third week at the earliest. As telling by the fact that a) he NEVER sets his line-up, b) makes no moves on the waiver-wire, c) leaves in players on the IR and d) (the most obvious) leaves players in who are on a Bye (defined: each team gets a "Bye week" for the season where they do not play. Therefore, their players are unable to score points.)

4. Is viewed by the rest of the league as an easy win & a chance to relax a bit. Similar to a real Bye game for the fantasy world hence the term Bye-Guy.

There you have it, its a short & (not so) sweet description of the most frustrating member of your league. I for one have apparently managed to be the only one NOT playing against our Bye-Guy which is crap because I'm at the bottom of the barrel & am forced to play another good team because the gods of yahoo.com are against me winning. Bush league.

The Must-Know Movie: Hockey Edition

Now, recently I've become aware of the fact that I know a bit more about sports than the average girl. I'm semi-proud of this & semi-ashamed because sometimes I'm pretty sure God started to make me a boy then halfway through changed his mind. Two recent occasions made me realize there is half-pride, half-shame in my sporting knowledge:

Two separate nights out, in two separate party atmospheres (one bar, one Halloween house party) I managed to spend the majority of the evening chatting with members of the opposite sex about...you guessed it, sports! Both were impressed by my knowledge, neither were interested in me as a girl - go figure.

BUT I think that's because when I get on a sport roll, I don't shut up so my recommendation is that a little bit of knowledge spread evenly might work which gave me the idea for this particular blog as this is meant to be a helpful guide to girls who potentially don't know much about the wide and varied world of sports.

So let this be my first "self-help" blog for the girl hunting a hockey hunk!

Say you're at your local watering hole & a dude like this:

catches your eye. What on earth will you talk to about with this stunning specimen of a gent? Using your powers of deductive reasoning you decide the bloke must play puck so you approach him, sipping your Molson Canadian brew and make your initial contact. He casually mentions he plays hockey & immediately you try to think of something witty & fun to say that will ensnare him. That's where this info comes in!

The hockey must know movie, regardless of the age of the player, is without a doubt:

Slap Shot (1977)
I don't exactly recommend this as an opening pickup line because that would be a bit weird but subtly thread it into the conversation if the topic of hockey comes up. While I strongly recommend watching the flick as it is extremely funny (although rated R in every sense of the word) here's a crib sheet if you don't feel like spending 120 minutes of your life watching Paul Newman in all his blue-eyed glory.

Must know characters:

Reggie Dunlop played by Hollywood hunk Paul Newman. Dunlop is the player/coach of the Charleston Chiefs (yes, you without a doubt should also know the name of the team.) He has some money one-liners and is overall the heart & soul of the team. One of my favorite (& warning - more inappropriate) one-liner is:

Opposing Player (name not necessary): "Dunlop, you suck cock.
Reggie Dunlop: "All I can get."

So that gives you a bit of perspective on the type of movie it is.

Other necessary scenes/players to know:

Hanson brothers - these guys:

NOT these guys:

The Hanson brothers are resident goons/dim-wit fighters. Watch this brief clip to get the gist of them, they're awesome.

Bonus tip: at one point in the movie the Hanson brothers go into the stands to fight fans due to a bottle that hits one of the brothers. If your hockey prey is in Boston, you can mention the '79 Bruins going into the stands at Madison Square Garden & Mike Milbury beating a guy with his own shoe. (Clip of Slap Shot with Bruins announcer from that fight seen here.)

There you have it, its short & sweet & will impress that dude until your shining, girly personality wins him over. Happy hockey hunting!