I’ve always been under the impression that my San Francisco Giants are of the most attractive bunch in Major League Baseball. This has only been confirmed as two of my team favorites have been featured in April’s edition of GQ. Buster Posey in SWEATPANTS? Zito in McQueen?! Swoon.
Anyways, you’re welcome.
Golden Bear Sportswear Jacket, $637;
Alexander Wang T Shirt, $76;
Unis Pants, $198;
Puma x Alexander McQueen Sneakers;
Banana Republic Jacket, $150;
Merz b. Schwanen Henley, $100;
Michael Bastian Sweatpants, $325;
Sandro Sneakers, $475;
TAG Heuer Watch;
See the complete slideshow with other guys like, Brandon Phillips, Chase Headley, Andre Ethier and Jake Peavy here.
I always knew these faces were GQ worthy. Sorry Dodgers, I only see Ethier in there… maybe money can’t buy you class.
Dear newly found Giants fans,
Welcome to the club! So glad you could finally join the rest of us! Did you start following the Giants after their 2010 or 2012 World Series Championship? Do I sound bitter? I don’t mean to. In the end, the more fans the better! I’ve been a SF Giants fan for as long as I can remember. While you were getting tanked at AT&T Park and “watching” the NLCS games in 2010, I was stuck in Philadelphia, among Phillies Phucking Phanatics. Time. Of. My. Life. (Just as bad as when the Niners lost to the NY Giants in the 2011 NFC Championship and your girl was stuck in the middle of the celebrations in Manhattan). And in 2012, while you rallied and got high and got drunk, and celebrated, and played hooky, and skipped work for the SF Giants World Series 2012 Celebratory Parade, I was in New York… experiencing Hurricane Sandy (although I did watch the parade online with limited, slow speed wi-fi I pawned off from NYU). So yeah, you can say I’m a bitter fan. This year I went to Spring Training, and having missed Spring Training for the past few years, I was overwhelmed by how big the crowds got… and upset about how many of the so called “fans” didn’t know their own players. I’ve been to Spring Training for many years. I’ve spent countless hours inside and outside of the Scottsdale Stadium getting autographs from players, chatting it up with them, saying hey to coaches, and generally enjoying my time spent with my Giants. This year, however, I decided to forgo the whole battle for autographs because I’m twenty one years old now and I’m pretty sure I’m too old for that, but mostly because I didn’t want to have to battle grown ass men, and all of these new fan chicks for signatures. Instead I sat idly by and rolled my eyes when these “fans” would see a player and ask me, “Who is that?!” and then proceed to ask for their autograph. I’ve watched our players from our farm system. I met Timmy during his rookie year when he was essentially unknown, told him I was in love with him, to which he responded with a blush and “I’ve never thought I could actually feel tall standing next to someone” when we took a picture together. I’ve seen my boys come and go. You, you band wagoners, however, are graced with the celebrity status of a multiple championship lineup right now. So of course you care.Do you even remember the good times we had?! With Joe Nathan, Jim Brower and Schmidty? Do you even know that “Woody” is so much more than just a slang term for an erection, or a long board deck? Did you? Were you by Barry Zito’s side when critics, writers, sports reporters, teams etc. were laughing at his $126million contract and had a tough time following through? I know I definitely was. Do you remember when another catcher who captured our hearts became concussed? Like, does Mike Matheny pre- Cardinals ring a bell? The only catcher collision that makes you emotional is Posey v. Cousins, right? What about when Robb Nen sacraficed his arm in the 2002 World Series in Game 6 against the Angels? WHERE WERE YOU?! Can you say exactly where you were when Barry hit #756? Hmm? Or what about the 2002 slugout in the dugout with Bonds and Kent? Remember the days with Felipe Alou or Dusty? When the Giants infield consisted of Vizquel, J.T., and Richie? Now you remember. But did you care then?
I really don’t think you understand torture.
So enjoy the season! Really. It’ll be fun! 2013 means big things for our Giants.
Happy Opening Day 2013!
Wow. I wonder if my ass would look THAT good in those pants. Wait. Do all of these guys have great asses like that? Oh. Never mind. Damn. You can actually see his cellulite dimples! Like, Every. Single. One. I wish this wasn’t a high definition TV. Do I have visible cellulite dimples? OH GOD. There’s an ass I’d like to see… the quarterback. Everyone loves a quarterback. Why are they 99% of the time the most attractive person on the team? DON’T HIT HIM! His face is too pretty to be sacked. Well, that’s just rude. Why is that guys hair so long! Can’t someone on the other team just like, pull it, and we can call it a day? Thats gross. Anyways, back to the quarterback. He’s so assertive. I like that in a man. I mean, I know I’m not A.J. McCarron’s girlfriend, or a cheerleader, or groupie, but I wouldn’t mind dating an NFL quarterback. Yeah… wouldn’t mind a bit. OH JEEZ. Did you see that hit? Is that guy alive? Is he dead? I would be dead if I just got hit like that. Actually, I’ve been thinking about this. Scenarios if I were to get hit by an NFL linebacker (with a lot of tattoos, long hair, and 200lbs bigger than me): A) my body would just turn to dust. Poof. Gone. B) Paralyzed for the rest of my life or C) THEYD HAVE MERCY ON ME AND SWERVE. But seriously. These football players are serious business. But WHY are they so big? Is it necessary? Like maybe they should consider weight classes for football leagues. Shit gets outta hand. If we threw in a hockey mentality about fighting, the result would be
Fight Club. But at least theyre wearing a lot of protection. Can we talk about that for a second? I’m trying to think about how fun it would be to put on full body protection and pads like these guys wear, and a helmet, and just go around and crash into things, run freely, not worrying about falling down and getting hurt. It seems so… carefree. It must be nice to make a living off of being athletic and carefree. No wonder NFL players have so many misdemeanors, felonies, etc. Wait, that guy killed someone? Oh god.
Oh it’s that AT&T 4G commercial that I absolutely love! You know, the one with the kid who can pat his head and waave his hand at the same time? If I ever have one, I want one like that.
I’m a huge baseball fan (sports junkie in general), so as you can imagine, watching my SF Giants play in the post season has been extremely stressful and infuriating. But I’ve realized, that’s the general nature of men… to be stressful and infuriating. I’ve also simultaneously decided we can learn a lot about men by just watching baseball, ladies. And I’m not just talking an anatomy lesson here, because, as we all know, baseball pants are to men as yoga pants are to women.
Money. Despite the amount of money they spend on their appearance, they’re still susceptible to sucking… and failing miserably. Take the LA Dodgers for instance. Blockbuster trade, but with nothing to show for it. So sad. You spend all that dinero to look fly, but you’re still really ugly. Money only gets you so far. Some of the best players aren’t on multimillion dollar contracts, but instead are homegrown rookies – just coming into being a man and looking all handsome and shit.
Always Keep An Eye on Them. They might get caught. As a woman, you need to show the men in your life some TLC. We all know they have short attention spans. They might get caught running on you. Its the good guys in the game like Buster Posey and Yadier Molina that will catch them stealing, and teach them a lesson. Always be skeptical – just like a pitcher on the mound checking up on runners – never assume, but be prepared.
Copious Amounts of Facial Hair. Beards are in. Walk around the city and you’ll see… the whiteboy/Jewish hipster with beard is very much in style right now. I have a theory it started with Brian Wilson’s beard. #FEARTHEBEARD
First Appearances Aren’t Everything. Typically the guy hitting .390 is more popular amongst the fans than the guy hitting .152. But is that all that matters? Well maybe. At first look, it seems Mr. .390 is the shit… but spend a little time with subpar Mr. .152, and you find he can be just as good as .390. Maybe he doesn’t come off the page and grab you right away, but he grows on you, with time. Besides, the underdog story is always more interesting than the headliner.
They’ll Always Come Home. They travel, they have groupies on the road or wherever they go. They’ll have fun out there in the world, meet other people, battle it out with others… but in the end they’ll always come home. There’s always something at the end of the day that they’ll look forward to.
The Uniform.Sometimes, the right outfit can make or break a guy. Wearing Dodger blue? Deal breaker, my friend. Even if he’s just wearing the hat… Uhmm, no. Sorry, enough Dodger hating. As a diehard SF Giants fan, I’ve purposely not only turned down a guy wearing an LA Dodgers emblem, but have also gone out of my way to make his day/night miserable. Serves you right to flaunt that disgusting blue around.
Junk Adjusting. Men constantly touch their junk. But hey, no one needs to watch baseball to know that. They’re obsessed with their penises… but like I said, no one needs to watch a baseball game to figure that out.
Signs. The signs that men give out are very sneaky and covert… At times unreadable and incomprehensible. Sometimes the catcher/pitcher gets crossed up, sometimes things get lost in translation. It can get confusing when trying to read men.
Cant Win Em All. Theres 162 games in the regular season, you need to learn to pick up, get over it, and move on.
Its A Mental Game. Always. Baseball is heavily weighted on math, physics, blah blah, but most of all the pure psychology of the players. The psyche. The superstitions. The routines. They will mindfuck you to no end. But in the end, you can’t let them win. Take control, play your own game. It’s not that hard.
What Kind of Fan Are You? Men will test you. Just like any baseball team tests their fans. Are you a fairweather or bandwagoner? Or are you a ride or die chick, whos always there for the ups and downs, the slumps and the playoff rush?
Also, DILFs are always nice eyecandy. That is all.
Actually, for you men out there who happen to read my blog (I checked out my visitors and my stats – a percentage of you male readers DOES in fact, exist) a bit of advice: Don’t go swinging your bat at every
bitch pitch you see. Sometimes the best hits come with time. You have to wait it out. Maybe your next at bat even. But it’ll be worth the wait, I’m sure. Swinging indiscriminately at everything you see will get you nowhere – except a bad reputation as a guy who will always strike out.