Pick And Roll

Hiatus

OK, I haven't posted in a few weeks but let me take this opportunity to tell you why: the heat, the job search, the apartment search and the fact that nothing but terrible news concerning the Browns and Tribe. I tried to post a very ecstatic piece about the Browns about two weeks ago but the computer that I am using just wouldn't process it. It must've known that LeCharles Bentley, out premier free agent pick up and hometown guy, was going to go down-untouched we find out recently-for the year with a knee injury. I barely want to write anything positive about the Browns (i.e. Braylon or the emerging Jerome Harrison or the rock solid Ruben Droughns) as I am afraid to have to shed tears over the keyboard again.

And then there is the Damn Cleveland Indians. Can it get any worse that watching ESPN at a bar in the Lower East Side and watching the bedeviling descent of our relief corps. Fausto Carmona? Who the hell names their kid after a guy who sells his soul to the devil? Really, there is no way in Hell (he he) that Carmona has made any pacts with Old Scratch OR HE"D BE SAVING GAMES AND NOT GIVING UP WALK OFF AFTER WALK OFF!!!!

I can't take baseball anymore. I hate it. Football...FOOTBALL....Ye Olde Buckeyes come and save me from merciless pit of mediocrity that I was born into!!!!!

I swear that I will post more often...once I get a job and an apartment that is not in the purgatorial suburbs of Long Island...

Da Beach Mon

Damn if I don't arrive in New York during the hottest week of the year...The mercury was lingering over 100 degrees on Tuesday while I was walking around Manhattan looking at potential neighborhoods but after eight summers of San Francisco frigidity I can't say that I totally hated it. It is one thing in SF to be sweaty because you've worn too much clothes and have been walking up and down hills and another when everybody is sweating like hell and its not a big deal like here. Got to go to the beach here on Long Island and, as my wife said, act like a 10 year old and frolic around in the surf. But alas, I know well that winter is going to deliver a helluva surprise. I mean, to jet into town for a week during the holidays and then fly back to Cali before it gets too annoying is not really doing winter. But, once again, I kinda am anticipating it...

Gotta find a job . . . Gotta find a job . . . Gotta find a job . . . that's about all that is on my mind . . .

. . .along with the fact that the Indians have waited too long to get some pitching help and now are helpless afloat in the merciless sea of mediocrity along with the likes of the Brewers. However, what may be even more of a problem for the Tribe is their middle infield. Hey look theres an error over there! Hey look theres an error over here! I swear, along with Victor "catcher with a glass arm" Martinez (yup, that is the title of a Matt Christopher book that I read in the 4th grade) the Tribe are loaded with great hitting/terrible fielding stiffs. Jhonny Peralta is no Omar V. and Ronnie Belliard should try to field balls with that mullet that falls out of his big hat. But, hey, NFL training camp kicks off in just a few days. Thank God.

After a week of reading the NY Post I am happy to report that even they don't take Isiah Thomas seriously...but then again, who takes the Post seriously?

I got an email from Paul Shirley, whose great 12th Man blog is on ESPN.com, and I compell ya'll to check it out as well...

It looks like the Sonics are leaving Seattle for Oklahoma City and I give my condolonces to Pearl Jam bassist Cliff Ahment and every kid who idolized Jack Sikma....

...I guess that means just Cliff Ahment.

Steeleface Out.

Nostalgic for a City That I Stil Live In

I could care less about the MLB All-Star game (if you can call it that with Ozzie Guillen managing) so today I cruised around on my bike, ran errands and snapped some pix of the San Francisco that I know and love...

Like the public artwork on 5th St. and Folsom by Rigo (pictured above).

And "Defenestration" (pictured below) by Brian Goggin at 6th St. and Howard.

As the wind picked up and I made my way back towards the Alamo Square compound I thought that it would be nice to have a beer and a Fernet (after a big lunch at Tu Lan, a Fernet was the perfect digetif). I hit up Delirium in the Mission solely based on the fact that they serve these mini Miller High Lifes that I find to be the perfect amount of beer during the day...

While in the Mission I noticed the astounding prevalence of ironic mustaches on the faces of the fixed gear riding hipsters. The more I noticed the more I wondered if hipsterdom is nothing more than a succession of ironic trucker hats, mustaches, mullets and beers (yup. High Life included). Things that make you go Hmmmmmmmm....

Then it was back home to this wonderful sight...

...Ah moving sure is fun.

Kinda like running into bums like this guy, known to the masses as Bailey, playing hookey from work in a Lower Haight alley...

Dirty Azzurri

It made me sick to watch the Italians win the World Cup final yesterday. Almost as sick as Travis Hafner not being named to the American League All-Star team. Besides being the most boring team in the world to watch (other than our beloved American team) the Azzurri are the dirtiest, greasiest bunch of melodramatic footballers to win a World Cup championship. From Daniele De Rossi's vicious elbow on Brian McBride to their stupid tattooed arms to their insanely dumb pant-less celebration afterward the Italians were the team that I least wanted to see win but alas, win they did thanks to Marco Matarazzi's racist taunting of the legendary Zizou and Juventus striker David Trezegeut's penalty shot miss (kinda strange, isn't it, that a Juventus player helps the Italians win?). I am very interested to find out exactly what Materazzi said to Zidane. Early reports have the Italian goon calling Zizou a "dirty terrorist" and a few other unmentionable names precipitating the crazy headbutt to the chest. Need proof as to just how dirty Materazzi is? Check out this:

http://youtube.com/watch?v=WJPKM5aJGW8&search=materazzi

Baseball? With the Tribe getting screwed by Ozzie Guillen and unable to put together much of a win streak I am pretty much uninterested....

With baseball being a source of endless boredom LeBron's decision to  re-up with the Cavs was the best athletic news of the weekend. Now if a) the rumors I hear are true and that Kevin Garnett is on his way to Northeast Ohio and b) the Cavs can somehow get a real point guard I feel that they are on the precipice of piecing together a championship squad. Now all they need is to bring Craig Ehlo out of retirement...

Things are a little sad right now as I am in my last week as a San Francisco resident. Sure, moving to NYC is exciting and fecund with potential but there is no place on Earth like SF...This week I plan on making a final visit to the following bars:

Zeitgeist, The Expansion, Chelsea Place, Zam Zam , the Gold Cane, Vesuvio, Latin America Club and Fly

However the place that I will miss the most is my trusted coffee shop here in the Lower Haight...Bean There. Great loose leaf teas, great airy feeling and beautiful wooden aesthetic.

Until then...No Sleep Til Brooklyn...

Cosmic Freakout at the Independent

"There is no way to give up San Francisco, once you have fallen under its spell. You keep looking for the magic, and now and then, when the wind and the light are right, and the air smells ocean-clean, and a white ship is emerging from the Golden Gate mist into the Bay, and the towers are reflecting the sun's last rays-at moments like that you turn to the ghosts and ask, "Was this the way it was?" and there is never an answer . . . "

                                                      -Herb Caen

I got this quote from the Paul Madonna's All Over Coffee, an illustrated mix of San Francisco worship and pseudo-philosophical ramblings that occasionally works. This one, from December 2004, had this Herb Caen quote above an illustration of the southern view from Alta Plaza Park in Pacific Heights, is one that works...

http://www.paulmadonna.com/aoc/

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Some bands might be able to insert a wide array of styles into their own but I doubt that many bands can do it as well as Garage A Trois. Last night at the Independent saxophone freak Skerik, Berkeley bred guitar genius Charlie Hunter, Galactic's Stanton Moore and Critters Buggin's Mike Dillon put on a helluva show that ranged from straight blues to metal with a backbone of funk and jazz.  Like Built to Spill, who has been called "The jam band for people who hate jam bands," Garage A Trois seems, in my mind anyhow, to transcend the hippie dippy jam band sound that kinda nauseates me. Sure there was a cloud of skunky smoke that hovered just over the bobbing heads in the audience and of course there were some dirty dreadlocked white kids there but the music pulls you in and lets you forget about the patchouli stink emanating from the barefoot guy next to you. My wife Jen wasn't as excited as I was at the show (she called them "experimental" which is her euphemism for discordant and/or freaky) but between the Black Sabbath covers and the end of the first set when every member of the band took up a different percussion instrument for a drum jam that would make Mickey Hart spontaneously combust, I was impressed. The Independent, which was the terrible, terrible Justice League when I first moved to SF in '98, is a great place to see a show. Unlike the Justice League, the staff is courteous and the place is well ventilated and the uneasy feeling that you might get mugged inside the club is no more. It is one of the many places in SF that I will really miss...

...but I can't wait to start going to shows in NYC at the Hammerstein Ballroom, Irving Plaza, the Village Vanguard, the Knitting Factory and the North Six. Like I have been saying to myself, it's not like I am leaving SF for Kansas City or Little Rock. A new great city to meander through and make discoveries in . . . find new favorite restaurants  . . . cozy up in a new corner coffee shop (but damn is it going to be tough to find one as great as Bean There).

But as for right this second . . . our apartment looks like a bomb went off. Boxes everywhere packed unpacked and otherwise that our cat Millie is having a ball with. Little does she know that her whole world is about to be turned on its head...

How in the hell does Ozzie -the big homophobe- Guillen leave Travis Hafner off of the A.L. all star team? What a joke that he selects Thome AND Konerko over him. His rationalization? "Whoever doesn't like it, play better next year and pick another manager." Whatever. Go hang out with Hugo Chavez and bash some gays you punk...

Vote here to get Hafner in as a reserve : http://mlb.mlb.com/NASApp/mlb/news/article.jsp?ymd=20060702&content_id=1535506&vkey=allstar2006&fext=.jsp

Inebriated Role Models

This has gotta be quick as I have way too much to do today to write...however, in lieu of my witticisms, I give you this site to check out...

http://drunkathletes.synergyofsports.com/

And, I apologize for giving hell to Bob Wickman for a save that he really didn't blow the other night....I found out that the loss was due to Jhonny Peralta's arm....but still, Wickman is terrible.

Here is a sampling of the above site:

Draftin the Night Away...

The New Official NBA rock....no longer made of real leather.

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In all of this moving madness I nearly forgot about the NBA draft last night. I suppose this is forgivable as last night was one of the most boring drafts with maybe only one or two impact players in it. Hint: Bradley center Patrick O'Bryant taken by the Warriors at #9 is not one of them...Toronto led the night off with the selection of Italian power forward Andreas Bargnani surprising nobody. The word that the Raptors soooo want to believe is that Bargnani is a Nowitzki-like shooter who can get up and down the floor while also collecting a few rebounds. This kid is going to have a hard enough time learning to speak English (he made Hot Rod Williams sound like a Yale professor in his first interview) much less live up to comparisons to the president of the David Hasslehoff fan club. Guys that I think WILL have an impact?

-Rudy Gay...if Jerry West, one of the best judges of talent in hoops, gives up his beloved Shane Battier you gotta think that he sees something is the 6-8 pogo stick from UConn. My early fave for ROY.

-Randy Foye...the T'Wolves got a tough PG to run with KG (if KG isn't in Cleveland as my dad seems to think)

-Laugh if you want but I think that J.J. Redick will make Dwight Howard and Darko a feared tandem by opening up the middle with his deadly long range marksmanship.

As for my GS Warriors... I am not all that disappointed in the Warriors picks because the one big need that they have is a true center. I just don't think that this kid-who will be a great library pal for Adonal Foyle-is mean enough to mix it up with even the Chris Kamans of the League. What? What about Tim Duncan you say? Well, when you have an encyclopedia of post moves you can be a pothead like Timmy D....

Once again....I WILL NEVER PULL FOR THE NEW YORK KNICKS. Especially after the debacle of a draft that Isiah engineered last night. Did you hear the crowd howling last night when Stern announced Ronoldo Blackman? Wait. If it was Ronoldo Blackman it would have been a great pick....twenty five years ago... instead they picked Renaldo Balkman, a 6-6 forward from SoCarolina. Isiah, you deserve everything you get....

Just wanted to make sure that ya'll understood that...

Another little thing that I am thinking about...Bob Wickman, who blew another save last night for the Tribe in St. Louis, should be tarred and feathered. The Tribe, sadly enough, are all but finished...

...Just like I will be after paying an arm and a leg in moving costs.

On a seriously sober note, please include my buddy Joe "Dicker" Kraker in your prayers to whatever God you choose. Joe suffered an aneurysm this past weekend and is in pretty rough shape in Cleveland right now. We are all hoping for the best but I am sure Joe can use all of the help that he can get....

Death to the Knicks

I woke up this morning and I felt that I was still in the midst of a dream. Granted, the weather today is funky and gray with even a rare speck of rain on the windows but still the most peculiar sensation coated my waking moments. This move, exciting as it is, also is somewhat surreal right now.

Reality set in once I started to compile quotes for movers. Geez....

Now for the important stuff concerning my move:

You heard me right, Starbury, you chump...I will never be a Knicks fan. period. Even if Dolan got rid of Isiah and you.

I will never, EVER root for the Yankees. It makes me sick to even think about wearing a Yankees cap.

Who cares about the Jets and Giants? Seriously? Not me...

I could possibly adopt the Mets as my new NL team. God knows the SF baseball Giants became a boring old team with that pompous idiot Bonds commanding so much attention.

Maybe I'll cultivate an interest in hockey and the NY Rangers. Maybe...

I will continue to utilize my bike as my commuting vehicle as much as I possibly can. The NYC subway system does allow bikes on it's trains...

A Cacophony of Emotion

Well, I had mentioned big news and here it is: Jen and I are NYC bound. Like, real soon- as in three weeks. She just took a job with Psychology Today with her last day at WIRED here in SF being July 12th. As excited as I am this is still a bittersweet moment for me. I moved to SF from Ohio eight years ago and, for a while, thought that I'd never leave. I love San Francisco but the publishing world finds it's pulse in NYC and I am looking forward to finding my niche there. As a recovering socialist I know that money is a necessary evil that often feels good when you have it and I think that my best chance to make some is in New York.

Alas San Francisco will always captivate me in many ways... I met my wife here, got my college degree here, expanded my horizons to places that Ohio would never have let me and had a grand time doing it. I wonder how it will feel living in Brooklyn . . . if I will have that same transcendent feeling that being in SF often has given me. I wonder if winter is as bad as I recall. I wonder if the heat of summer will scorch my soul.

Yet I am more than confident that the future will be brighter than the past. With Jen being from Long Island and her brother Brian living in Manhattan we will have family nearby. And Akron is now only an hour and a half flight or half days drive. With two nephews that I rarely get to see (and a third on the way from my sister Jamie) I am grateful that I will get to share in their youth a little bit more now.

In leaving this City by the Bay the music in my head is a cacophony of emotions in which a melody must be found.

Four Nights of Built to Spill

Forgive my absence, readers, but this last week has been truly nuts. First off: Four nights straight of Built to Spill that ranged from ok (Wednesday) to genius (Friday). Every night was packed to the gills and hot as Slim's is one of the worst ventilated spots in SF and each night ended with a 15 minute jammed out version of "Broken Chairs." I was really surprised by the amount of politics that Doug Martsch has added to the show. There was a short film, I believe by Calvin Johnson, dealing with the heavy handedness that the government shows eco "terrorism". The film I didn't care for too much but the searing guitars that were the musical accompaniment were certainly to my liking. While I had promised to deliver a set list I just felt like a real idiot trying to write in a dark, packed room. So what? I fibbed...However, I will tell you that BTS began every night with a stripped down version of "Car", played my favorite BTS love song "Else" two of the nights, the bass player broke a string on Saturday forcing Doug to play "Twin Falls Idaho" and NO "Carry the Zero."

Being over 5'9" sucks at shows. I am about 6'2" and every time that I try to get a little closer to the stage I have to deal with the moans of disagreement from the little people behind me. I usually try to hang back and allow these munchkins their view line but with BTS I just have to get up there...Sorry to anybody that I stood in front of but, don't blame me, blame your parents (and their parents, etc.)

After the show on Saturday, my buddies Bailey (who also went to all four shows), Robi, his girl Mani and I tried to get a drink. Here is how it went: Nihon, at 14th and Folsom was closed at 12:30. Cool place but what the hell are they doing closing at such an early hour on a Saturday? Next we walked to the Hush Hush on 14th and Guerrero and it was a full swing butch lesbian party (it was Pride weekend in SF). I have no problem with lesbians of any kind but we just didn't feel like the Hush Hush was the place for us on that given night. Finally we make it to Elixir on 16th and Guerrero and the tail end of some office party was in effect. Drunken sorority girls from San Mateo and THE WORST BARTENDER I HAVE EVER ENCOUNTERED. This bald, fat guy who kept showing the crack of his fat ass every time he bent down was terrible. I have been a bar keep for about 9 years and I usually give service people the benefit of the doubt. Maybe they're short a person. Maybe they're trying to change a keg, etc. This guy at Elixir just kept talking to some floosie at one end of the bar ignoring me, the tons of dirty glassware and everybody else in the spot. I was determined to wait there with my money out and not approach this slob but Robi finally went down and told the guy, "Hey, this dude down here has been waiting for a drink for a while." Fat bald guy comes over and gives me a mad dog look and gruffly asks, "What do you need?" In the past if I ever was caught in a position where I gave shitty service because I was talking to a friend or messing with the jukebox I'd always apologize and not give an attitude. So, there is the story of my crew being snake bit looking for a drink on Saturday....all I wanted was to get Shane McGowan-styled...

I may have some really big news soon so keep posted....