My Opinion on Richard Sherman (Because I Know You Want to Know)

After the Seahawks defeated the 49ers on Sunday, cornerback Richard Sherman had a microphone thrust in his face a few minutes after making a game-saving play and thus sending his team to the Superbowl. His, um, exuberant response has been the talk of the sports world and beyond ever since with every one giving their opinion and adding racial tilts and personal attacks. So of course I knew it was time for me to weigh in.

I don't have a problem with Richard Sherman acting like a WWE wrestler after a nationally televised game. It made for interesting TV and I know why he was excited. I mean, it is the Superbowl.

But I do have  a few problems with his actions-and a few of his words. First of all, the whole choke signal at the opposing team. No bueno. This isn't just a team he might play every once in a while. It's a team he will play twice a year and will probably face in the playoffs quite a bit. Sherman can never know when one game or one play will shape a season--it could mean the difference between a first and sixth seed in the playoffs. So egging his divisional rivals on with a gesture that will FOR SURE remember it for the next two times (if not every time) he plays them, not a good idea in general. This wildly inappropriate gesturing and snubbing goes for coaches too.

Second, calling out Crabtree. I have rarely seen a rivalry be one-sided. It's why it's called a rivalry. And private smack talk is one thing, but know that words are meant to be eaten. I think just about every person that called themselves the greatest of all time has fallen from grace. Want to know some of the company he's in now that he's done that? LL Cool J and Will Smith. Richard Sherman just put himself in the same category as them. Congrats.

Lastly on the negatives, the gesture cost the team 15 yards. Sure, it meant jack squat here, but sometime it's gonna mean something and then the team won't find it quite as amusing.

On the positives, Richard Sherman is a genius (and if you haven't heard it yet, he went to Stanford so that helps prove it). Cornerback is not exactly the highest of profile positions on the football field and in one short interview, he just became a nationally known entity. That's pretty genius in my book.

All that said: I'm still rooting for Peyton. I just can't quit him. Unless he's playing the Colts. Then he means nothing to me.

Because I Know about Fake Significant Others

I feel compelled to write about Manti Te'o for several reasons: 1) it's just a bizarre case, 2) it's a case that kind of pisses me off, and 3) I know a thing or two about fake significant others.

I'll start in order. I have a hard time believing that this guy didn't know that his girlfriend was fake. She gets in a car accident AND gets leukemia, and he didn't visit her at all? She DIES and he didn't go to her funeral? What a shitty boyfriend. Not only that, even after Te'o said he knew the girl was a hoax, he still perpetuated the story a few more times.

Also, how come Te'o's father told the South Bend Tribune that his girlfriend had visited him in Hawaii and they had met at Stanford if they were only online bf/gf as his statement says. That means that his father either 1) lied to the media a while back or 2) was in on the thing and let his son lie to the world. Neither scenario would qualify someone as father of the year.

Next I get a little pissed off at Notre Dame. The athletic director, Jack Swarbrick, SO believes this ridiculously unbelievable story that they not only hold a press conference, but he CRIES during it. He shed tears over a FAKE woman. Not only that, they hired private investigators and sprung into action.

Yet a few years back a 19 year-old student who had accused a football player at Notre Dame of sexual assault and the athletic department did nothing at first. The girl committed suicide from the harassment she received for making the allegations and only AFTER she died did the university investigate the matter. The Notre Dame athletic director certainly didn't cry for the REAL WOMAN who died.

That pisses me off.

Lastly, I had a fake boyfriend. His name was Toby. I developed him before the advent of a lot of social media. He helped me have an easy out if I got unwanted attention from a guy. I even had a picture of me and my friend Amanda's then boyfriend (now husband) that I could flash as my "Toby." Toby was easy to maintain because I wasn't a nationally recognized football player, there was no Facebook, and checking a background of someone wasn't a few keystrokes away.

I guess what I don't understand is why the hoax was so perpetuated in the first place. The media now is reporting it all over and they could have been the ones to have nipped it in the bud. I know it's hard to want to question someone's hard luck, heartwarming story, but that's what the media is for. Doing a rudimentary Google search to see if there was a Stanford volleyball player who had died is pretty easy. The media is supposed to be skeptical of everything--that's what is supposed to make them our line of defense from BS stories like this.

And with that I say, good luck in the NFL, Manti. May you enjoy your time with the Bengals or Raiders.

Making Use of Extra Time

My babies, all lined up for my viewing
pleasure.

I've spent a good portion of my holiday time off doing what a girl should: watching football, eating, shopping and lounging. Throw in some Chef time and a plethora of old chick flicks and BAM! You've got a nice time.

You might wonder how I'm able to watch so much football with Chef around, as he's not so much of a football fan. We've worked this out. When I'm itching to watch some pigskin, I ask him "Do you want to play Skyrim (an elaborate Xbox game)?" He shrugs as I'm sure he'd rather us hang out together, but he knows this is a cue and goodnaturedly says "Sure, I could play some."

Still stuffed, but at least organized.

And because he's nice to do this, I give him the big TV and watch in the bedroom. Because I can't just sit here and watch TV (I have to multi-task),  I've been really productive. Cleaned out my closet, organized my shoes, and in the process fell back in love with some of my clothes. I've got a lot (see the picture) and because of my weight loss this last year (I've lost about 26 pounds since moving to LA) and my adapting my style a little to the laid back LA scene, there's some things I didn't love any more. Large oxfords that I used to wear over leggings and with boots, blousey shirts that have no shape, pants that are way too big.

Cheering on the Colts while
doing my hair. For no real
reason.

So what do you do when you're in between sizes? I invested in some belts to cinch in the shirts and provide some shape. I also got some form-fitting tank tops to wear underneath jackets. I subscribe (right or wrong) to the one tight, one loose school of fashion. Meaning that if my top is tight, my pants or skirt it loose and if my pants are skinny, then my shirt is looser. Mostly because I have flabby stomach and where the top and bottom meets needs to have some ability for camouflage. What's your style philosophy? I kind of wish I could just post pictures of my clothes, shoes and accessories, and then have some someone make new outfits for me. Is there a service out there like it?

Anyway, here are some pictures of my toiling. Clean(ish) closet, organized shoes and check out orange check jacket and blue sweater I got yesterday at Goodwill. (Another way to expand the wardrobe between sizes!). What's the best consignment store/Goodwill find you've ever had?

Peyton Manning's Neck? Yeah, that was My Fault.

It all started with an innocent request.

"What do you want for your birthday?" Chef asked.

"I don't know," I said. "Maybe some Colts stuff because my t-shirt is getting so bad."

And with those words, I became the jinx of a nation. I put in jeopardy the longest active start streak for my selfish need to own a cute Manning jersey. What does one have to do with the other? Probably nothing, but if you're like other sports fanatics, it might be something.

Logically I know that assigning luck--good or bad-- to any object is purely fiction and only in my head. But I happen to have some items that have been lucky every time I had them on or perhaps wore them unwashed every game during a win streak (yes, sometimes I'm a dude). And I decided that it was time to retire my huge, stained white Colts t-shirt in honor of a cute, female cut Manning jersey. And for that, I'm punished because now it could be that on the first Colts game day, I'll be wearing my jersey, but Manning might not be wearing his.

Brett, You Should've Left a Year Ago

I'll admit I'm a Monday Morning Quarterback on this one. But considering what came out today, I would say that it's appropriate.

As he deadpanned into the camera and assured America he knew it was time to go, I couldn't help but think Brett Favre was at least a year too late in coming to that realization. I mean, America was ready to see him go about 3 years ago.

Look, Brett Favre owns a lot of records and sold a lot of Wrangler jeans in his day, but the guy sucked wind this year. If you ask most fans (except for Vikings fans), they would've preferred the guy left when the Packers went to Aaron Rodgers. Because after he left the Packers, Brett Favre went from "cowboy" and "gunslinger" to a joke. Him NOT retiring was kind of like the annual spurning of Susan Lucci at the Daytime Emmys. It became a farce of its own.

And while we're at it, can all the sportswriters, commentators, and anyone who makes a comment on Brett Favre, please refrain from calling him a "gunslinger". It's tired, old and not creative at all. Instead of "gunslinger" say what you really mean "A guy who can throw really hard and either is very accurate or an interception nightmare."

So, Favre says he's going to retire and we all want to believe him. We want to think that no idiotic teammates will make the trek to Mississippi and fluff his super big ego to make him think that his best year is just on the horizon. He just has to show up. No training camp or physical workout required.

We want to believe things about guys who've reached a certain level of fame. We want to believe that Brett Favre didn't sexually harass Jen Sterger or the two new team massage therapists that came forward today. We know deep down the truth probably lies between the wild allegations and the even wilder denials. There was probably some overly sexualized flirting and things that would get a C-level executive fired from a normal company. But Brett isn't a C-level executive and the NFL is not a normal company. (Plus with the ladies making the accusations in the same breath as they're trying to get settlements, it makes the allegations easier to brush off for the average or die-hard fan).

So Brett, if you wanted to avoid this ridiculousness, you should've taken the ego hit that Green Bay served you and retired without really playing for any other team. But you went to the Jets. You had an okay year. Then you went to the Vikings. You had one great year and one year that made fishing in Mississippi look nice.

But just because Brett Favre didn't listen to me or half of America, doesn't mean that there aren't a few lessons to be learned:

1) Never put your sexual harassment in digital form. Tiger learned that one the hard way.

2) If you're going to sexually harass someone, make sure it's a money-hungry, hot girl. Their stories will bring up the most doubts.

3) If 90 percent of the people you talk to are telling you something, don't do the opposite JUST because you don't believe in crowdsourcing your life decisions.

Bye bye Brett.

Only a few more nights of crappy TV

Seriously. Is anyone else tired of this crappy TV? I mean, Sunday and Monday nights aren't too bad because we have Mad Men, Entourage, True Blood, Weeds and The Big C (which is my new favorite). There are a couple things that suck: 1) That's only two nights in a week and 2) they were all on hiatus except Mad Men because of Labor Day.

So, the launch of college football season helped to satisfy my need for new programming a little. Plus the Hoosiers won big, so YAY. And really, the NFL season kicks off on Thursday, so there's only one more night of crap-filled "Kate Plus 8" and "South Park" reruns. Unfortunately, I have a work thing so I'll miss the official Kick off of the New Orleans-Vikings game. And the crap thing is that the Titans play at the same time as the Colts, so no Indy game this week. I'm relegated to NFL.com recaps. I need the NFL Network's Red Zone channel.

And the beginning of the NFL season also brings the return of Chef and my's favorite new show: The League. It's hilarious. If you haven't seen it--even if you aren't a fantasy football fan--it's well worth it. Also, the new fall season kicks off, so the rest of my stories will begin. What should I get to replace Lost?

Point of No Sleep Returns

Hello, my name is Ashley and I'm addicted to football. It didn't used to be this bad, but with the access to technology and living in SEC country, my addiction has only increased. I can't go a Saturday or Sunday without checking scores or how my fantasy football team is doing. I know more about the injuries to Colts players than their own doctors. It really is an illness that only provides me with anticipation, angst, elation, mood swings, bitterness, happiness, skepticism, joy and utter despair.

And now it's costing me sleep. Something that I value more than nearly anything else. Last night I stayed up to watch the Colts game, which in of itself would put me to sleep that much later than any other night. However, when the Colts make it an exciting game, which nearly every one against the Patriots is, it makes it difficult to wind down. Getting your hands to stop shaking when you've been rocking back and forth like a heroin addict as to not yell or clap or scream to wake your boyfriend is not an easy task. You can't just summon the heady spike of adrenaline and then expect it to leave quickly. It's like Beetlejuice or an in-law's visit.

So because I'm an addict and I watch it, I end up getting so excited that I can't sleep, even when I want to. I knew that going in. And then Chef worked early this morning so I ended up stirring to his morning routine at about 4 a.m. And tossed and turned all night. And now I should be laying my pretty little head against a pillow, but I'm still out here, typing on the computer and watching Monday Night Football. And it's Cleveland vs. Baltimore, so that has to give you some scope of my addiction.

I guess the good news is that there's no football on until Thursday night. And basketball season has started.

My Favorite Signs of Fall

For the first time this year, I felt it was fall. It was not only the lack of rain, but the crisp bite in the air while you're car's still warm inside from the day's sunshine. Here are some of my other favorite signs of fall:

• Football games that mean something. Once you're this far into the fall, College games get interesting because top teams aren't playing the little sisters of the poor and pro teams have either won or lost enough to either confirm or refute any predictions of the season.
  
• Pumpkin Spice Anything. Today I had my first pumpkin spice latte of the season. I also saw an ad for pumpkin spice candles, cupcakes, donuts and even beer. And I will probably buy them all because when you mix pumpkin with nutmeg, cinnamon and clove what you get is delicious and/or fragrant.
• Tall boots. I've got good legs and I know how to use them. Primarily in leather zip-up rockin' boots.
  
• After 120+ games, baseball is interesting again. The pennants were decided (for the most part) long ago, so now that the play offs are starting, it's time to start watching baseball again.
• Midnight Madness. The first official practice for NCAA Men's Basketball. Where hope springs eternal for Hoosier fans.
• Running in crisp mornings rock!It's too warm to run with a jacket and just cold enough that sweating provides comfortable relief.

Thank you mother nature. I used to think that Spring was my favorite season, but now I'm having second thoughts. . .