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.
“You’re a fraud and you know it, but it’s too good to throw it all away. Anyone would do the same. You’ve got them going and you’re careful not to show it. Sometimes you even fool yourself. It’s like magic but it’s always been a smoke and mirrors game, anyone would do the same”.
-Smoke and Mirrors by Gotye(not as popular as Somebody That I Used To Know, but equally as good)
Gotye hit’s the nail on the head here. The popularity of MTV’s new hit show, Catfish, is a true testament to our proclivities towards hiding behind smoke and mirrors as well as being absolutely paranoid by it. Why do we find ourselves hopelessly engrossed every Monday night as Nev (and co.) finds a hopeless romantic who wants to meet the love of their life only to find that said love of their life is 20+ years older than expected, or 100lbs heavier than they appeared online, or the opposite sex, or sexually confused? Well, for starters, it makes great television. You can’t help but make a drinking game out of it (1 shot if revealed person is an unexpected gender, 2 shots if the episode ends with a happy ending, 3 shots if you guess the whole scenario correctly – She’s in love with a man who’s actually a woman, with two kids). But honestly, we’re drawn to it because as a culture we are obsessed with fakes. Fake boobs, fake television, fake celebrities, fake orgasms, fake stories, fake this, fake that. Obsessed.
This month alone we’ve seen national news stories revolving around fakers. Beyonce lip-synched her presidential inauguration performance of the Star Spangled Banner. Gasp! Were you really that surprised when you found out? Even Obama was skeptical. WHO CARES? Why are we fascinated by people (even ourselves) getting duped? Personally, I think we like to play martyrs. We can’t help but to feel so betrayed by these fakers. Look at us! We’re victims! Don’t you feel bad for us? But really, the question is- would we rather live in ignorance? While I was in bed watching the Inauguration I had nothing but praise for Queen B. So did the rest of the Twittersphere (at least on my timeline). Not even before the inauguration ended, news broke that she had, in fact lip-synched and everyone became a critic. Seriously? Yo, haters – about a millisecond ago you were worshipping the ground she walks on. Did it make a difference that she lip-synched? No. Do we care? We really shouldn’t.
Now enter Manti Te’o. Thanks to deadspin.com’s investigative journalism, the whole world learned how Te’o got hoodwinked by some rando pretending to be his longtime, seriously in love girlfriend who supposedly passed away. What resulted was a football player who was emotionally prompted to become a leader, a great player, in the face of adversity. He went on to lead his Notre Dame team to and undefeated regular season – but we won’t talk about the Rosebowl. So yeah, it sucks that Te’o got legitimately PUNK’d (and not the cute Ashton Kutcher way), but when all is said in done, it’s over. What can you do? Why are we making a big deal of it?
Now from Beyonce to Notre Dame football, lets talk MLB. For a long ass time now, the world of pro baseball has been marred by PEDs (for you dummies, thats Performance Enhancing Drugs to you – not the tiny socks you wear). For San Franciscans, it’s been a pretty difficult relationship with our accused players. We have Barry Bonds (arguably, but in my humble opinion, should be HOF’er) who admitted to using steroids. Some fans dropped off of the Bonds bandwagon, some held on tightly – long enough to see him revamp himself, lose some lbs, and turn into a better man. That Barry. Last year the SF Giants also had a few other PED scandals, including All Star MVP, Melky Cabrera. San Franciscans fell in love with him for his bat, the whole MELK MEN/MAN thang, and the fact that he couldn’t speak english pretty good (When he was interviewed after accepting his MVP trophy whilst sitting in his sparkly new car with his mom and grandma, the announcer asked him, “Who are these two women with you Melky?” To which Melky responds, “THANK YOU FANS”…awkward. Yeah, Cabrera English, no good.) Despite the fact that he put up the numbers for the SF Giants and was a fan favorite, he quickly became invisible once he was charged with using PEDs. Fans threw away their Melky shirts, their Melk Maid and Melk Man costumes. Obviously we didn’t like him that much anyways. In my house Melky Cabrera became “He who must not be named”, in fear that it would bring up bad feelings (and by bad, I mean real bad. I’ve cried for Barry Zito during his low points and have screamed at my TV and cursed out Santiago Casillas while he warmed up in the bullpen). To say I get emotional over baseball is truly an understatement. **UPDATE: Add A-Rod to the list of PED’ers***
As a culture, why are we so fascinated by fakers? I go back to my previous question: Would we rather live in ignorance? Was Kid Cudi onto something when he said, “ignorance is bliss?”. What if the people on Catfish were better off thinking they fell in love with a 25 year old male model who has a heart of gold? Maybe it would be better if we didn’t know Beyonce lip synched, or Lance Armstrong did steroids, or baseball players in general do steroids. If we turn a blind eye long enough maybe the world would be a better place and we wouldn’t have to deal with the heart break, the scandal, the betrayal etc.
Why the process of unveiling fakers and uncovering fraud in our culture is important:
We should reevaluate who we put up on a pedestal. Are the athletes, business people, artists we admire really GOOD people? Or do we just like them because everyone else seems to?
Likewise, we need to make our own opinions. Rather than following popular opinion, or going with the majority, we need to stray from the homogenized body and decide for ourselves… is this person really MY idol? What do I, personally, think of this?
Investigative journalism rules. We are submersed in the Internet, social media, etc. This is the first time in history that we see breaking stories unfolding in front of us through the use of tools such as Twitter, Facebook, and live feeds.
We like to be victims. As I said before, some of us love being martyrs. Let’s play the blame game?
We’re all faking it. In one way or another we’re all frauds (even if its just a little bit – like, that little white lie on your resume?) Thus, we want to see others get faked out or how they do it. We just laugh because it isn’t us in that situation. And WHOOMP! There it is.
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.
The season of summer has not ended yet, but the fact that I find myself packing back up to head back to New York City (YAY!) to start school in September (Meh), basically means that my summer is essentially over. SO, in honor of the end of my summer, I put together an non-comprehensive list of the lessons, realizations, thoughts, what have you, that I have gleaned from this summer.
- The Summer Olympics only happens every four years due to overstimulation. Duh. First of all, both the opening and closing ceremonies were likened to being on an LSD trip. It was weird, and it made me feel uncomfortable, yet super artsy and creative and interesting. Second of all, the world needs four years to
forgetput aside their countries’ heartthrobs (Read: Tom Daley, Michael Phelps, Ryan Lochte, Jake Dalton etc), and prepare their libido for the next fresh, young batch.
- No man will ever break my heart and play with my emotions the way the 40 men on the SF Giants team have. Pablo being injured, then playing, then injured again, the whole Melky Cabrera scandal, Tim Lincecum not pitching his finest season, they know how to add insult to injury. Its been an emotional roller coaster thus far in the season, but I’m no fair weather fan..
- I’m pretty good at picking people’s spirit animals. Just ask my coworkers. They, on the other hand, suck at it. Apparently I am a llama, because seemingly I am sweet, but upon further inspection I spit at people. Well, perhaps this is true. Spitting in the figurative way.
- Likewise, my whole pool staff and co-workers and boss think I need to keep my pants on. In conversation my boss called me a “horndog”, and when my coworkers and staff evaluated my strengths and weaknesses, one person said my weaknesses were “firemen” (I thourougly appreciated that one, since, we all know I have no weaknesses. Joke).
- Firemen. Firemen are my weakness. And baseball players. And well dressed men. And Olympians. And European men. Especially the French. And the Spanish. I guess you can say I’m indiscriminate in my tastes.
- The unspoken dress code is obviously so much more incredibly lax than in the city. Here I can get away with wearing sweats all day, whereas in NYC I would undoubtedly be mistaken for a homeless person. Here there is such thing as being over dressed. In the city, there is no such thing as being overdressed.
- Working at a pool is by far, the BEST birth control… EVER. Worried about teen pregnancy? Send your kid to work at my pool, your worries are gone. I don’t know what it is, swimming pools must bring out the worst in children or something.
- Having visited and seen the elegant beauties of Yacht Club de Monaco, and the Pebble Beach Concours d’Elegance, its safe to say I’ve seen some of the finest yachts and cars in the world. It was quite impressive. Have you ever seen a red carpet for a car? I did, it was a bit weird. But lets be honest, these toys are a serious overcompensation for something lacking in these men. However, I wouldn’t mind having my own yacht/fancy car one day.
- I am the daughter of a lush. Therefore, this summer, drinking with my mother has been exquisitely divine. Getting drunk before/during/after dinners, during the day, before bed, in the morning, etc. Except that one time my best friend had to essentially haul/carry my mom and I around on Fourth of July due to a case of too many deadly sangrias. I love you Malia.
- Speaking of my best friend, its always good to know that a friendship that has lasted for 15 years will always be there, despite the distance.No matter how much time we spend apart, or don’t get a chance to talk to each other, nothing ever changes. Thanks for being my BFFFL!
- Summertime requires a significant amount of work. Shaving your legs, making sure your thighs aren’t too flabby in shorts, that your swimsuit fits appropriately, applying sunscreen hour after hour, being hot, being sweaty, getting sand everywhere, getting grass everywhere, having to blast air conditioning in your car, sweating, finding shade… honestly, the list can go on. Summertime in California is reeeeeeeeeeeal tough.
- I have heard, through word of mouth, and view numbers on my blog, etc. that a lot of you guys actually read my blog world wide! I am ecstatic about this, considering I couldn’t simply imagine my rantings and thoughts being of interest to anyone else (Special shout out to Liz & Tori Emery who are not only lovely readers, but the ultimate purveyors of all things classy and sassy!). Or perhaps its just my excessive, obnxious spamming on Facebook and Twitter that bring you guys here. But in all seriousness though, I appreciate it! Please, feel free to say hello, comment, share your thoughts, etc. I love feedback, and I quite possibly love you!