Perks of the gig: when one of your former students is old enough to buy you lemon-infused rice wine as a gift.
HBO’s Real Sports with Bryant Gumbel featured an interview this week with Knick owner James Dolan and former antichrist Isiah Thomas. I wrote a real-time recap of the event, an interview which will seem familiar to anyone who’s listened to audio recordings of the Jonestown suicide (I have; highly recommend!).
Be warned: these two men inspire fear and loathing beyond most carbon-based beings’ capacity. It already led one long-time P&T reader to comment that I should “shut up.” Make sure you’re seated and not near any flammable material. Read at your own peril.
“He looked me in the eyes and he told me he was going to kill me. I was so scared I wanted to die. When he loosened his grip slightly, I said ‘Just do it. Kill me.'” He also “threw [me] onto a couch covered in assault rifles and/or shotguns.”
A 25-year-old man says this to a 24-year-old woman with his hands around her throat, adding, “Do you want to see crazy? I’ll show you crazy.”
Last week the same man, Greg Hardy, professional football player, returns to work for the first time since being convicted of assault and communicating threats (a verdict overturned when the woman he’d threatened to kill agreed to a settlement so a jury trial would be dropped) and having a ten-game suspension reduced to four.
Speaking to the media, the now-27-year-old man who threw the woman on a couch covered in guns talks of reporting back to work “guns blazing,” of regretting the fact that threatening and beating a woman has kept him away from his co-workers, who he hopes he hasn’t let down. He expresses no regret to the woman he choked and threw and told he would kill. Continue reading
Harry “The Horse” Gallatin, the first great(est) player in Knick history, passed away today at the age of 88. I eulogized the man on Posting & Toasting. Long story short: he was enshrined in 8 different hall-of-fames; played multiple sports professionally; was honored as a basketball coach and a golf coach (despite never playing golf professionally); served in World War II; and was generally considered a tough guy on the court and a gentleman off it. RIP, Harry.
Me and the crew from Posting & Toasting wrote our preview for the upcoming Knicks’ season. What are their goals?
What are their strengths? Do they have any strengths? What are their weaknesses? Is there anything they won’t suck at? When will Taylor Swift and Kristaps Porzingis consummate their inevitable love, bringing forth a metahuman offspring destined to either save or damn us all? Check it out!
In the best of times, my job demands make getting any of my own writing done – for the Knicks; for book reviews; for my own fiction – a challenge. A week and a half of constant headaches has left me with, literally, 200+ essays/short papers to get through ASAP. This is not the best of times.
One of the guys who writes at the same Knicks site I do is now writing for Sports Illustrated. This leads me to wonder – is the amount of time I devote to teaching preventing a potential writing career from taking off? Or, having found work I enjoy and show some aptitude for, should that remain my betrothed, with the writing a lifelong mistress?
In the great BBC Steven Moffat series Coupling, there’s a scene when two friends, Steve and Patrick, are trying to convince a third friend, Jeff, who’s just started dating a woman, that relationships are never as fun long-term as they are in the beginning. Jeff rebuts them, pointing out that Julia, his new girlfriend, loves to wear exciting, tiny underwear and lingerie. A frustrated Steve tells Jeff, “There are 3 things all men should know, and it’s time you did too. You’re never going to be famous, you’re fatter than you think you are, and, most important of all, [women] don’t keep wearing stockings.” Continue reading
Late last Thursday as I was wrapping up my final class of the day, I felt myself growing inexplicably irritated. At first I thought my annoyance was because of a particular student, but the more I thought about it the less that made sense; the student, though annoying in general, hadn’t done anything to provoke the intensity of feeling I detected. The next morning I woke up and still felt off. Eventually I realized I had a headache, an epiphany I greeted with a sense of relief. Yes, my head hurt. But at least I had understanding. Oh. That’s why I’m in a bad mood. Okay. Now I get it.
That was nine days ago. The migraine has not gone away. It’s getting worse. Continue reading