January 17, 2012

Chicas Adoran Las Pelotas Rapidas. Or, Vacay Bitches.

In honor of Martin Luther King Jr., the upcoming apocalypse, and my best friend Carl’s 30th birthday, I will be on vacation in the Dominican Republic until Sunday.  Hopefully I will not get murdered or anything. If you would like to submit an order for steroids or other contraband, please email chicksdigthefastball@gmail.com.  

While in the DR, I intend to bask on the beach and read books, catch some baseball games and find the next Albert Pujols, and down enough drinks with little colorful umbrellas that I forget just how cold it is in New York.  Hopefully by the time I get back, if I get back at all that is, Time Warner Cable and MSG will have worked out their issues and I will be able to watch the Knicks again.

Until then, let’s go Giants and Blue Devils.  Have a great week guys, and please check back next Monday. 

January 16, 2012

A Somewhat Factual History about how Duke became the Blue Devils.

My father curiously left me a voicemail the other day, imploring me to call him because he had a “sports-related question.”  This happens as often as Tim Tebow has sex.  To be clear, my dad’s vast sports knowledge consists of little league softball games, NASCAR race tracks, and the fact that Duke has a basketball team called the Blue Devils.  That said, after forcing him to go to four years of Blue-White Scrimmages and Family Weekend football games, at least he knows where I went to college. The pertinent portion of our conversation went something along the lines of:

Dad: Does Duke have a monopoly on Blue Devils?
Me: Huh? What do you mean, “a monopoly?”
Dad: Like a trademark. Doesn’t Duke own the Blue Devils?
Me: I mean, we are clearly the most famous of Blue Devils, but we do not “own” the team name.  Where is this coming from? 
Dad: Well, we were driving through Deep Run last weekend (Editor’s Note: Take a left at Bumfuck, North Carolina, go three miles up the dirt road, hang a right at the tin mailbox, and boom, you’ve found Deep Run), and there is a big sign – I saw it twice – which said, “Welcome to Deep Run, Home of the Blue Devils.”
Me: Maybe it has some connection, like my boy James B. Duke had an illegitimate child there? Or a local sports team? I have no idea. 
Dad: “Home of the Blue Devils.” I really thought Duke owned the Blue Devils. Well, what is a Blue Devil?
Me: A French soldier.
Dad: What? That doesn’t make any sense.
Me: Neither do you.
Dad: Your basketball team is named after the French? You know how I feel about the French after The Incident in Paris.  (Thoughtful pause).  But why? It just doesn’t make sense.  Please find out how this happened. 
Me: I am more curious about Deep Run’s connection to the Blue Devils, any Blue Devil for that matter, but okay. 

The following history lesson of questionable accuracy goes out to my father, the wonderful man who drove all over the country to watch me play sports and yet still remains somewhat clueless about each of them.
*          *          *
Once upon a time, in a land far far away, an elite army, dressed in dapper dark blue jackets and capes, was formed.  Not just any army, but a specialized force trained to overcome mountains, standardized testing, and urban warfare.  Ever since 1859, when the independent states of Italy finally arrived at a consensus that they indeed preferred to resemble a large boot as opposed to a collection of mismatching doll slippers, the French were very frightened.  So in 1888, to protect the Alpine border, they created an infantry known as the “Chasseurs Alpins,” the very first military unit to ever pimp a beret – which was called a “tarte,” because it was the sexy size of a pie.  They had style if nothing else.
Dispatched to the mountains, the Chasseurs Alpins were taught survival skills such as cross-country skiing, igloo building, personal weaponry, lemur hunting, collar popping, and beer pong.  They were not taught how to play football.  Still, the infantry was so elite that they banished certain words from their vocabulary and substituted new ones.  For example, the Chasseurs – which remain a strong force in France today – do not say red, or “rouge,” but instead say “blue-cerise,” meaning cherry blue.  They say “jonquille” instead of “jaune,” or daffodil instead of yellow. They do not wear a “uniforme,” but a “tenue” or outfit.   The Chasseurs are so brilliant that they must literally speak down to someone else’s level in regular conversation. 

The Chasseurs Alpins became internationally renowned for their skills, but more importantly, for resembling superheroes.  During World War I, they were nicknamed “les Diables Bleus,” or the Blue Devils, due to the color of their uniforms, billowing capes, and ginormous hats.  To raise support for the war, troops of French Blue Devils traveled around the United States, holding events for the public. Like Captain America, but not. Irving Berlin, the great songwriter, penned lyrics in tribute: “strong and active, most attractive…those Devils, the Blue Devils of France.” Rihanna did the remix. 

January 5, 2012

My (Potential) Date with Derek Jeter: A Tale of Sex and Scheming.

Yes, I perhaps have a date with Derek Jeter on January 12th.  Now all I need is $2,500.00 to make it happen.

Last week, my friend Amanda forwarded me an email with the mysterious subject line “Wine and dine with the New York Yankees' MVP at Tribeca Rooftop,” followed by one line of text: “thought you might like this.” I love wine, food, the Yankees, Tribeca, and rooftop bars, so really? I “might like this” was already the understatement of the year.  I wanted more information, and in particular, I needed to know which “MVP” we were talking about here.  Would I want to “wine and dine” with Joba? No, I would be afraid he’d eat me.  AJ Burnett? Only if I wanted to have nightmares about being murdered, since he will always remind me of a serial killer.  Mark Teixeira? I am almost certain that bible study would be less boring.  Curiously, the body of the forwarded email contained no text at all.  At the time, it seemed like nothing more than a ginormous cock tease.  But then I hit “display images below” and the following graphic appeared: