Winter Dodgeball - Week Three: So This Is What A First Place Team Looks Like.

Yeah, that's right.

After the third week (admittedly, with the aid of some lopsided scoring–see week two), we find ourselves at the top o' the heap. That's a new one. But, there's plenty of season left, so there's no time to rest on our laurels.

That being said, I have to admit: we played really well this week. Everyone looked sharp, and even though we don't waste time mapping out strategies, we all seem to be on the same page with our game plans. For instance, I like to hit people with the balls, and catch the ones they throw at me. It's been working out for me, and I think I'm going to stick with it. I've noticed some of my teammates doing the same thing. Now, I don't consider myself a leader, but if that's the position I've been thrust into, I'm prepared to both set a shining example and abuse my power whenever possible. But that's me: I'm full of contradictions.

So, yes, we won both of our matches this week, and could probably be accused of running up the score in our second one, though I'm not sure if enough of the opposing players were aware of that faux pas to warrant my concern about it. I hope not, but one of the guys didn't seem too happy when I said "good job" in the lobby after the game. Eh. I'm pretty sure all the other teams hate us anyway, so there's probably no love to be lost.

We can only look forward now, so that is what we do. Standings are here. We'll see how long we can hold onto that top spot.

Looks Like Those Clowns In Congress Did It Again.

What a bunch of clowns.

Winter Dodgeball - Week Two: "Cheaters!"

Weird night.

First off, we were back in the NoPo Salvation Army gym (one week only, I'm assuming the Friendly House was closed for the holiday), the same one that hosted my first season on the team some five months ago. I was initially excited by the prospect of taking things back to the room in which I cut my dodgeball teeth, but my enthusiasm began to wane as soon as I remembered what I don't like about this gym: it's big. And compared to the courts we've been playing on for the last season and the first two games of this one, it seemed colossal. During the season we played in the Salvation Army gym, we were still using red rubber balls, which bounced all over the place, and often off the wall or bleachers and back into play. With the new rhino skin balls, there's no ricochet. This isn't an issue in the cramped quarters of the Friendly House, but on these courts it certainly was.

The games were slow, with balls dead against walls, in corners, and one even landing in a garbage can. So, there was lots of shagging, lots of uneven ball distribution (this can't solely be blamed on the court), and lots of herding people in from the vast neverland of the out-of-bounds regions. I couldn't believe I was actually missing the Friendly House, but I was. Whatever. At least we got to play.

And play we did! Our first match was against I Blackballed Your Mom, a team we have played (in slightly different incarnations) in each season I've been in the league. As I said, the games were excruciatingly long, so much so that at some point, the ref lost track of the score. Apparently the rest of us did, too, because nobody could make up their mind about who was ahead going into the last few games. We ended up "winning," but as you can see from those pesky quotation marks, it didn't stick. And it shouldn't have. We finally figured out that we're pretty sure we tied, but I'm going to wait and see what the standings have to say about that.

Everybody was fairly cool about it, but it was an unfortunate mix-up. It seemed there were no hard feelings, which was a plus. Though they probably feel like they should have won, and maybe they have the right to feel that way. Let's let history decide.

Our next match started after a twenty-minute break, which left my arm cold and my intensity slightly lowered. We picked it up quick, though the first game found the other team screaming "Cheaters!" at us from their sidelines, which was, how do you say...not cool. I don't remember what happened on the play in question, and while we may be a lot of things, we're not cheaters, so they can sit on it. We ended up pummeling them anyway, so you could say the battle was won where it should have been fought: between the lines. That's how you do it. I did take a shot to the neck followed quickly by a full-on drill to the grill, but I'm such a badass that I barely flinched.

Joy took a bunch of photos, some good, some blurry. I'm going to post the good ones on Facebook. So if you're friends with me, look for that shit.

We roll on.

The Films of Judy Greer, Part One: Stricken (1998)

Yes, I likes me some Judy Greer. And we'll just leave it at that. So, after watching almost all of Jodie Foster's films (sorry Freaky Friday, maybe next time), I found myself in need of another Netflix mission, and here it is. We'll see how long it lasts, as Miss Greer has co-starred in some crapfests. But, they can't be any more boring than Anna and the King or Mesmerized, so I'll probably be a good sport about it and subject myself to some eye garbage.

Chronologically (according to Judy's IMDb page), we start with this low-budget horror/comedy mess, that co-stars Jamie Kennedy (post-Scream 2 but pre-Scream 3) and Sean Gunn, who is apparently someone I should have heard of. They all play weasely college students, eager to prank each other but unable to take any of the pranks themselves. One of their pranks goes too far, and a guy they all hate ends up dead. From what, it's hard to say, because the dude barely gets roughed up.

Greer plays the girlfriend of one of the dudes, and she inadvertently walks in on their middle-of-the-forest murder scenario, catching a shovel to the back of the skull so she won't "go to the cops, man." Of course, this is after she takes a nice, long shower, which was the highlight of the film for me.

It can only go uphill from here.

Winter Dodgeball - Week One: Out Of The Gate With Authority.

This isn't a picture from tonight, but all of these people are still playing with us. Picture our shirts a more black shade (really, just black), and there you go.

The new season started tonight, and it seemed we were all eager to erase the sting of our less-than-noteworthy performance in the Late Fall playoffs a few weeks back. Thankfully, we did just that. We played the BD's first, a team that has been in the league as long as we have (or at least as long as the three teams that I've been on), and while they're usually a good match for us, there seems to be an unspoken understanding that we all have a fairly strong desire to beat them. This partially stems from an awkward exchange that occurred two seasons ago, but tonight it seemed to be more rooted in starting our season off right. We started off even, taking it to 2-2, but we ended up pulling ahead and winning by two (maybe three?). We seemed confident, calm, and it felt like we were having a good time, which almost always fuels better play between the lines.

Our next match was against the Cougars (popular name!), who had apparently played before, but I didn't recognize any of 'em. They were strong, but when it came to focus and teamwork, we had the advantage. A few of their players were a little spazzy, which didn't hurt. Of course, we're spazzy too, so no one looked too shocked when they were up 3-2 and the ref called last game unless we won. Though we have been known to choke in clutch situations (this has been my specialty throughout my sporting career), we pulled together and not only won that game to tie it, but decisively took the tiebreaker and the win. Did I mention teamwork? That shit is off the chain.

They've got us lining up at the mid line next to the refs now, ostensibly so they can keep an eye on who's coming in and out. Fine by me, as I actually think it makes more sense. And the more the refs want to get involved, the happier we'll all be. I drilled a girl in the leg 20 seconds into our second match, and she just acted like it didn't happen. Thankfully the ref gave her the heave-ho, thumb style.

Which was good, because I was going to start whining, and nobody likes that.

Standings will be here. We're the Boiler Room Ballers this time around.

A Little Sissy Boy Who's Too Scared To Come Forward.

These Three Things.

Oh, I'm never getting off the couch.

My brother got me the complete 1986 World Series on DVD for my birthday, which I have been wanting for years. Not only does it include all seven games of the World Series, but it also comes with Game 6 of the NLCS, the 16 inning, almost five hour game where the Mets won the NL title. The set also comes with a bonus disc with interviews, trophy presentations, etc. When all is said and done, the entire collection is 27 hours long. I've got my work cut out for me. I've watched the NL title clincher, and I'm just starting on the Series. It is so fantastic to finally see the games in their entirety after all these years.

The 1986 Mets are the greatest single team in the history of baseball. Or at least they are in my muddled mind. My favorite team to watch, that's for sure.

I've also been working through my Simpsons DVDs, watching all the episodes in order and becoming giddy at the appearance of every deleted scene and the 30 seconds of stuff that gets cut out of the syndicated versions. Seasons Five and Six are really tough to beat.

Guitar Hero: Aerosmith is my dirty little secret right now. I grew tired of the songs on Guitar Hero III, and this game was fairly cheap. And when I read some disappointed reviews from people on Amazon who were wondering where all the new and popular Aerosmith songs were, I thought there was a chance it might not suck. And really, it doesn't. It does include "Pink," which I could do without, but it also has "Draw the Line," and "Toys in the Attic," which are both sweet. You can also get "Pandora's Box" as a bonus song, which is raaaandom. Other bonus songs include Joe Perry's solo project, which is great for Joe, but a waste of space in this game.

Weirdest thing about the game, and this is really starting to bug me–they say that Run-DMC is in it, and you can play "Walk This Way" on the game (the 1986 version). When the song gets going, DMC comes out by himself and raps both parts. He also does this on "King of Rock," which is one of the many non-Aerosmith songs in the game. It is unbelievably retarded. Guess Rev. Run wasn't down with his likeness being used. But he was OK with them using the songs, apparently...

In case there was any question, Steven Tyler looks certifiably freaky as a dude in a video game. But you can barely see Joey Kramer's hair plugs, so it's working out well for him.

Wow. The Wrestler Is A Great, Great Movie.

And for once (especially when it comes to the work of Darren Aronofsky), I'm not being sarcastic.

Some things about me that in some way pertain to my high opinion of this film:

One: I love wrestling. Not wrestling now, but wrestling up until around...eh, let's say 1991. (When did black liquid start dribbling from the hairline of the Ultimate Warrior? Things had taken a noticeable dive into the shitter by that point.) Mickey Rourke's character in this flick, Randy "The Ram" Robinson, is a washed-up face who had his heyday back around '88, my all-time favorite wrestling era. Robinson's swagger is pure late 80's wrestler: neon duds, ass-rock anthems, and high-flying maneuvers that are impressive but not extensively acrobatic or "extreme." I guess what I'm getting at is that I had no trouble believing the character, because I often wonder where the fuck Marty Jannety ended up. Oh, here he is.

Two: I like Mickey Rourke. Of course, 90% of that "like" is based on his performances in Barfly and The Pledge, so maybe I'm not fully informed, but I'm happy to keep things that way. He's every bit as good as people say he is in this movie. I'll still be rooting for Sean Penn to win the Oscar (not that they mean dick), but the Rourkester doesn't not deserve it.

Three: I have spent the last eight years bashing Darren Aronofsky's second full-length film, Requiem for a Dream, so it's nice to feel like he's come back around again. It's not that I hated Requiem, it's more like I loathed it with every last inch of my being. I'm the only one who feels this way, I know. So you can get out your Special Edition DVD and watch Marlon Wayans and Jared Leto run from the talking fridge and praise Jennifer Connelly for showing so much poise and professionalism during the double-ended dildo crescendo. Brilliant!

Anyway, Aronofsky didn't write The Wrestler, so maybe that helped.

Four: I secretly like the Springsteen song that rolls during the credits.

Five: Marisa Tomei don't look too shabby.

I'm a little put off by all this resurrection-of-Rourke talk, because I'm not sure if that's what's happening. I mean, the guy is fucking perfect for this role. And after seeing him jabber awkwardly with heel-mode Chris Jericho on Larry King last week, I think we can count on him fucking this all up pretty soon. But for now, we can all enjoy how spectacular this film is.

Also: I just imported my entire MySpace blog over to this one (tedious, to say the least, but I didn't want to lose that shit), so apologies for any weirdness that may cause.

Freshen Your Drink, Gov'nah?