Author: Kat (Page 86 of 89)

Rochestarians Are So Obviously Not Americans…and Other Thoughts

So I was planning to write this post on the I Love NY Gymnastics Cup, which was held at the good ol’ 70s style Broome County Veteran’s Memorial Arena tonight. I’ve been meaning to go to this for the last three years, and I figured this year, being my last here, would be as good of a time as ever. However, I kind of forgot that I work for a gift and video store, and that there is no way you can’t be chained to such a place on Valentine’s Day. So I didn’t get to go. It’s okay, because the store had a VERY successful day, and I made a lot of money. Yes, I’m greedy. Live with it.

However, seeing that I didn’t get to go cheer on Penev’s (formerly Eastside) Gymnastics, my old gym, I feel like I have nothing to write about. I planned all week to go to this and then write about it on my blog. Call it my good ol’ sports journalistic aspirations. I was looking forward to that just for the fact that I could write it up on the blog. But, I’m going to have to Peter King this entry (no one is going to get that reference at all, I’m sorry) and do a random “Things I Think I Think,” because people actually read this, and I imagine people would like to read a new entry.

So here are my random, somewhat sports related thoughts of the week:

-Mike Malarkey looks like Kevin Costner. I discovered this while watching Sportscenter on Thursday night. I pointed this out to my mother. “Oh my gosh!!! I never thought of it that way! I think I like him now.” I, for one, did not know my mother enjoyed Kevin Costner, but I guess she does. Well, at least Malarkey now has one supporter in Western New York. The rest of us are still weary, including my father, who hates anything having to do with the Pittsburgh Steelers. The guy HATES them. His hatred is much like the one Red Sox fans hold for Yankees fans. An entertaining thing to do during my adolescence was to watch my father go off on seeing Terry Bradshaw on Fox NFL Sunday. Absolutely hysterical.

-I was at work in the office on Friday afternoon, and somehow I made the following statement to Sean (I forgot how we got to this point): “When I was a young teenager, my dream was to go to Brigham Young University, study journalism, get to cover the 2002 Winter Olympics, and become Student Body President my senior year there. And as Student Body President, I would get to introduce the commencement speaker, who would be Steve Young. Then he’d hire me to help him write his autobiography.”

Wow, 14 year old me would be REALLY disappointed at my life now.

However, I give you this web site. Members of the Binghamton University community, I’d like at least one of my dreams to come true. Please take this into consideration. (I never ever went searching for this information–I was searching the web for some other government stuff and happened upon it. I think that’s a sign.) All I’ve got to say is that if Ithaca College gets Scott Hamilton for what would of been my commencement if I had stayed, I WANT SOMEONE MEGA COOL.

-Rochester, NY is getting to be a horrible place to live. Example #456 would be the murder in front of my father’s machine shop on Friday morning. Uh…Dad, I love you, and I know this is a great job and all, but…I’m not picking you up from work ever. (Why would I have to pick him up from work, you ask? Four drivers, one car. Do the math. If you want the car in the Hasenauer family, you gotta be willing to pick other people up.)

-Yes, I watched Thursday Night Hockey in the Great Room on the Mega-TV Thursday night. And yes, I was rudely tossed out by people who DID NOT BELIEVE I was watching hockey. This is 2004. Girls watch hockey. Last time I checked, my Room fee covered that TV as much as everybody else’s. And I work for Residential Life. So really now people.

But that’s not the point. The point is that I saw Jeremy Roenick shatter his jaw. That was scary. That was “Steve Young being leveled by Aeneas Williams” scary. The puck went flying from the face off, ricocheted off his cheek, and he just dropped to the ice and didn’t move. Yuck. Yet, I still would allow any future children I may have to play hockey.

Marsha thinks I’m nuts. “I can’t believe you’d let your kids play something that violent,” Marsha told me after I was telling her about the injury.

“Why not? If I ever have a son, he’s playing football in the fall, hockey in the winter, and Little League baseball in the spring.” I answered.

“That’s ’cause your American.” she responded.

“No,” I quipped back. “If I were American, it would be football, basketball and baseball. But because I’m from Rochester, NY, the basketball is replaced by hockey.”

-On that tangent, I’m letting you all know now: Sam Hasenauer (my little brother) will be a starter on a Slamball team in 14 years. He likes to play basketball and he likes to jump on the bed.

-And on other Hasenauer family basketball related news, I made a shot from six feet into the wastepaper basket at work today with a flower stem. Uh-huh, I rock. That’s my prime example of senioritis: wastepaper basketball at the store.

-Happy Valentine’s Day. It’s nights like this I wish I had a boyfriend. Or the NFL Network, which one of my friends keeps singing the praises of. Or all my tapes of the Olympics. (They’re in the attic at home.) But really, I made a lot of people happy at work today, and because of that, I’m not at all bitter. People were happy, they had the cutest plans and the cutest stories and the best smiles. I love it.

And I’ve also found that when I’m feeling the need for a boyfriend, the best remedy is to look at my resume. Conceited? Just a little. But heck, I’ve worked my butt off for years. I deserve to feel a little egotistical at times.

I’ve got to get going. Marsha is begging us all to take pictures of her clubbing outfit. I’d join her out, but I’m so tired, one drop of alcohol would put me to sleep. That’s what I get for running around doing deliveries all day. To bed and reading I go!

*****************************

Later: I just had to add this, because I thought it was pretty funny. I wanted to go to bed, but decided that it’s a Saturday night, and I’m 22 years old, so I shouldn’t go to bed before 1am. So I decide to keep myself up, instead of doing schoolwork (which might put me to sleep, and therefore, defeat my goal), I decide to play Madden. So I’m playing Madden (2002 Niners vs. 1994 Niners–because I wasn’t feeling very creative tonight), and I miss a field goal. That’s my favourite mini-camp drill to play, so that I missed it is disapointing. And so I say, “I’m pouting!” After I realize how I’m brooding, I turn to Regina and say, “I’m such a girlie girl when I play Madden.”

And then I thought about what I had just said. I don’t think the creators ever expected that sentance to come out of anyone’s mouth while playing Madden.

(By the way, to further support this theory of my girlie girlness, I went back and did a field goal mini-camp drill and totally screwed up. It’s just not my night with field goals. While I kept missing, I said, “Gosh, I’m going to throw a hissy fit.” I’m so Legally Blonde at times that it’s just not right.)

Kat Goes to a BU Hockey Game…Alone

There is one thing about Rochester that I’ve always loved and that I always miss, and that’s the sheer number of ice rinks, hockey teams, skating clubs, and the like–if it has to do with ice, we have it. I mean, we have at least 10-12 ice rinks in the area, and every one is always booked. There’s always all this worry when new rinks open up, that older ones are going to feel it, but they never do. Everyone knows someone who plays hockey or figure skates or even curls (as in curling). My cousins play hockey, I’ve figure skated recreationally since I was young, and my father’s tool shop has fourth row off center season tickets to the Amerks game that they divy up among the workers. This is a town where everyone my mom knows rushed to get digital cable after the Empire Network was moved from basic cable to the digital sports package, because you can’t see Sabres and Amerks games anywhere else.

I hadn’t seen a hockey game since last May, and while I was home, I didn’t get to go because my father had to work late. I would of gone alone, but if he was working late, that means the car was called. (It stinks to have 1 car for 4 drivers. Really kinda does.) So, when someone illegally posted a flyer about a Binghamton University club hockey game on one of my bullitian boards, I was interested. It would cost less than a B Sens game, and direct transportation was available–the team was renting a bus to take fans to the rink. (Let me take an aside here and say that there are 3, count them, 3 indoor rinks in the Binghamton area: the Arena–which is just for concerts and the B Sens, the new BCC rink, and the Polar Cap in Chenango Bridge, 15-20 minutes outside of Binghamton, where the game was. There is one seasonal rink, but I don’t have a clue where exactly it is. Now, compare this to Ithaca, where there were two indoor and one seasonal–which means, proportionally, I think Binghamton is out of wack.) So I decided this was how I was going to spend my Friday night.

Now, I tried to recruit people to come with me, but hockey isn’t really a downstater thing. Actually, it’s not really a “anyone not from Western NY, Minniesota, Michigan, and Canada” thing. So I went alone. I felt a bit odd–but then again, I’ve attended several sporting events alone, especially since moving to Binghamton (Binghamton is not the biggest sports campus in the world, unfortunately for me, apparently fortunately to everyone else on campus.)

Here are my most pressing observations about the game:

-The bus driver was late, old, a townie, and disgusting. He also charged us more than had been advertised.

-In talking with a girl who was also alone, but was going because her boyfriend was on the team, these games are popular among freshmen and sophmores under the age of 21 because the Polar Cap has a bar and their bartender must be especially bad at being able to pick out fakes. Hooray. My little orientees running around with NO KNOWLEDGE OF HOCKEY WHATSOEVER getting wasted on bad beer. It was true–most of the people there stayed in the bar area and drank the whole time with their backs turned away from the game. The bar area, however, was nicely heated…

-…but the arena was colder than outside. My aunt had warned me about this. Her sons (my cousins) play travel hockey, and have played in tournaments at the Polar Cap several times. “That is the coldest arena I have ever sat in–it’s at least ten degrees colder than outside,” she always says. It is–I was shivering and was forced in the bar area at times because I was chattering so much that I wasn’t able to focus on the game.

-Note to all: PLEASE DO NOT MAKE OUT AT A HOCKEY GAME. I know that you need to keep warm, but please, don’t do it that way. I am sitting in the stands, watching the third period, and this couple in front of me starts necking. Now, don’t get me wrong, dinner, a hockey game and an evening of making out sounds pretty darn good to me. But don’t mix the making out with the hockey game. I beg you. It’s awkward.

-Funniest comment of the night: “I don’t know about hockey. I do think we should win because we have prettier uniforms.” -one of the many drunk freshmen. (And you thought I was shallow with my “5 Hottest QBs” List, but I have been beaten.)

-Second best: BU fans were seriously jeering the Syracuse goalie. A few rows up sat two girls cheering for Syracuse, and I think they had to be girlfriends of players. One girl yells down at the jeering fans at one point, “Can’t you guys say anything NICE?!”

-Oh, the game. Okay, for one, this is seriously club hockey. These guys are…okay. I’m being nice. They are…obviously not ready for non-club hockey. But the game wasn’t bad. Binghamton was on a nice scoring streak for a while in the second, and then the rhythm was broken by a BU guy crossing the crease and just completely leveling the Syracuse goalie. However, Syracuse is a pretty dirty team themselves, and those officials aren’t exactly ready for prime-time work either. I haven’t seen more blantant offenses not being called since the Cowboys used to beat up on the Niners in the 92 and 93 seasons. We won, 3-2. Binghamton totally mailed in the last period and was lucky to pull it out, because Syracuse came dangerously close with 30 seconds to go.

-On the way back, the bus stopped at the clubs downtown and house parties. Gotta love the drinking culture of this campus. Remember when I used to worry that Ithaca was becoming a party school? Well, gosh darn it, Binghamton has them beat by a ton. It’s sad. Glad I only have 100 days left here.

All in all, it was enjoyable. I got my hockey fix, which was important. Next time, however, I’m wearing four layers instead of three, and I’m dragging someone–ANYONE! I don’t like having to face my little drunken orientees by myself.

And next year, me and the Beanpot tournament have a date. GO TERRIERS…or wherever I end up going.

****

On this tangent, I must bring up a point. I was seriously checked out tonight by two Syracuse guys. Very flattering, because they were both pretty nice themselves. But it reaffirms my new theory. See, I go home to Rochester, and I get checked out. Guys seriously hit on me. New Year’s was a prime example. So is going to Wegmans (Wegmans is a prime pick-up location in the Rochester area, in particular the one on East Ave.) At Ithaca, I had several interested guys. Whenever I’m up in Boston, I seriously get hit on and checked out.

And then I come here, and nothing. I couldn’t get a Binghamton guy to look at me if I walked by offering free beer. And my theory is this: Bing guys just don’t like me. I’m definitely a Western New Yorker–from what I wear and my lack of serious blonde highlights up to the minute I open my mouth. Unless I want to walk around doing my Allie Hilfiger impression (which, I must say, is quite good–for those of you not aware, there was a show on MTV called “Rich Girls,” and it followed the daughter of Tommy Hilfiger and her best friend around for a summer. It was the best show MTV has ever made. My family had “Rich Girls” nights over break. My father loves the show because he thinks I look like Allie Hilfiger. I really don’t, but I’ll take what I can get.) and get blonde highlights and not snarl anytime someone mentions how absolutely wonderful Manhattan is, I don’t think I will ever appeal to these Binghamton guys. They want downstaters. Even the upstaters want downstaters. And they have downstater radar or something. I’m obviously attractive to guys in a number of other geographic areas, just not here.

Something to think about…

Okay, screw it, I forgive the blond highlights. The guy has now won more Super Bowl MVP awards than Steve Young. Therefore, I officially give Tom Brady spot #2 on my list of Hot QBs. Sorry, Mark Brunell.

Give me a few days, and I will tell you about what watching the Super Bowl in somewhat football naive suite 115 was like.

Okay, it’s Super Bowl Sunday, and I’m taking a break from becoming a permanent fixture in the common room love seat and having my hand stuck to the remote to amend my “Kat’s 5 Hottest QBs of All Time” List.

One, I realised that Tom Brady highlights his hair. Uhhh…he’s staying in #3, maybe going back a spot just for that. A NFL Quarterback is not allowed to be a metrosexual. I’m sorry. I’ve highlighted my hair myself once. I’ve never gotten it done professionally (or even by my mom, who I would consider semi-pro because she did go to cosmatology school for a bit back in the mid-70s). I don’t have the time or paitence or desire required to get it done. And I’m a pretty girly girl when it comes to appearance. So…yeah. Minus points for that one.

Two, I feel like I should differenciate between “hot” and “sexy.” Steve Young is “hot.” He is not, however, “sexy.” In Katherine World, “hot” equals handsome (it’s just shorter to type) and “sexy” means “I wouldn’t mind having sex with him.” For many reasons that you can figure out, Steve Young is not “sexy.” And no, I am not going to tell you who I think is sexy, because that is a topic for another day…or not. Maybe.

Three, (and this is a big one), I need to add someone onto my list. Marsha and I discovered him during CBS’s HORRENDOUS (I mean, it’s really really really bad) pre-game show earlier this afternoon. Kyle Boller of the Ravens. He has to be the cutest thing ever. So adorable. Oh my gosh. I hate the Ravens, because I hate Ray Lewis (I am so my dad’s daughter), but man, I may have to watch them in secret if Boller comes back to start. I don’t know exactly where he fits on this list, because, well, he’s an unproven QB, and I feel that you have to be at least mildly successful to be placed on the list (I know what you’re going to say, and here’s my response: Steve Walsh was successful for a year.) But if he does start and do well at some point, Boller’s getting added. Maybe above Brunell. Yeah, he’d be #2. He’s better than Brunell. Yeah, wow, he is. Wooooowwwww. Told Sara to keep an eye out, since she is my favourite Maryland-ite, and I think she would enjoy him very much.

Okay, really, I should do work before the Super Bowl starts. Darn ESPN, why can’t they have a seven hour long pregame. I hate CBS’s. I don’t care about freaken Crank Yankers and “the Frankinstein of NFL Players.” No. I want football. And please go easy on the sad features–I wept my eyes out at the Trent Dilfer piece on ESPN earlier. I can’t handle stories like that at all.

Happy Super Bowl Sunday!

Okay, so I went to brush my teeth and get ready to bed on Friday night. And for some reason I started thinking about eighth grade. (I know, pretty darn random.) Specifically, I remember my homeroom/math teacher asking me what other quarterbacks I liked other than Steve Young. And I remember having two QBs to answer him with, one of whom was Mark Brunell, who was in his first year with the Jaguars. But I was completely blanking on who the other was I mentioned. I knew he played with the Bears…but not for too long…

So this was super bugging me, so I went back to my room, opened up the laptop, and looked up Bears quarterbacks, and I found him: Steve Walsh. Anyway, I crawled into my bed and started making a list of all the quarterbacks I’ve ever liked–I mean, well, okay thought was hot–over the years. And while number one is such a given that I shouldn’t even mention it, the others might surprise you.

And I’ll say it to start off: I know this is petty. I know I sound like a drooling girl. However, you have to understand why I got into football in the first place: when the other girls were watching Home Improvement to gaggle over JTT and drooling over Zach Morris on Saved by the Bell, I was watching Fox NFL Sunday. These are who I had my little girl celebrity crushes on. This is why I got into football in the first place.

So without further adu…

KAT’S TOP 5 HOTTEST NFL QUARTERBACKS OF ALL TIME

(well, from 1992-today)

5) Tie:

Steve Walsh

Okay, he wasn’t the most memorable quarterback ever. He started for the Bears in 1994 and played in the divisional playoff game against the 49ers where the Niners just ripped them to shreds and where Steve Young ran in for a touchdown in the second quarter and spiked the ball (the only time Steve Young taunted that I remember). And then he was replaced the next year with Erik Kramer, who I thought was so not hot. (Remember that the year was 1994. I make no apologies for my reasoning at the time.) Before that he played with the Saints. He never really did anything memorable, except that if you think about it, taking the Bears to the playoffs is a pretty darn big deal considering that they’ve stunk more times lately than they’ve done well.

I would tell you more about him, except I went to go find my football card of his I could of sworn I had this morning and I couldn’t find it. So Dad, if you’re reading this, can you look through the cards I left with you at home and see if you can find it? Thanks.

Older Brett Favre

Yes, I’m coming out and saying it: I now think Brett Favre is good looking. Now, mind you, I’ve spent the last ten years hating him. And then over break, I’m watching TV with my Mom, and the MasterCard “Monday Morning Quarter-backs” commercial comes on, and we both look at each other. “Wow, he’s gotten better looking as he’s gotten older.” she said. I just stared at the tv. He’s not bad. Not at all. And he’s not a bad QB. I mean, he has set millions of records, and he does seem to always get the job done…well, except in the divisional playoffs two weeks ago, but that was a rare occurrence. I mean, if he didn’t always beat the Niners, maybe I would have been able to overcome my disgust a while ago, but no, he always wins. And that’s annoying. But he’s hot. But I’m not putting any pictures up or anything. It doesn’t run that deep. Maybe if he lost to the Niners a few times, I could move him up a few spaces…but nah.

Hey, I just realized something. Both of my number 5s wore/wear number 4. So maybe they should be number 4, and then number one on this list could be number 0…but nah.

4) Marc Bulger

The 2003 Quarterback Challenge. Watch it. Find pictures from it. Drool with me.

The Quarterback Challenge, for those of you unfamiliar with it, is broadcast around the end of July every year (usually on the weekend of my Dad’s birthday). It’s the stupidest event ever, I think just a chance to hype up the preseason. They get some of the most popular quarterbacks of the last few years and they compete against each other in events such as “Throw the Ball at the Golf Cart–I mean, Moving Target!” But the good thing is that they are all looking extra good. Maybe it’s the summer tan. Maybe it’s the fact that they don’t have helmet hair. Well, anyway, I watched it for the first time in two years this summer, and while I had found Bulger attractive before, this really did me in. Great stuff. Oh, and he didn’t do too bad either.

3)Tom Brady

He’s a new addition, thanks to my friend Caitlin and our discussion while waiting for the commuter rail to her house a few weeks back. I knew he was good looking, (Caitlin e-mailed me several times after the Patriots won the Super Bowl back in 2002 and talked about how incredibly hot he was. I’m a Bills fan, so I didn’t really care at the time.) However, once I paid a little more attention to him, the more I realized he may be hot. He’s also a very consistent quarterback. And even if the offense isn’t as flashy as I’d like, he does pass the ball (and unlike the Bills, people CATCH it. I mean, what a concept, throwing when you have receivers. The opposite would also work, you know, Mr. Gilbride. Like if you don’t have healthy receivers, don’t pass. Maybe run the ball. Maybe think once and a while. Sorry, that was a random Bills rant.) Not as much running it in for the touchdown. Short passes for big gains and touchdowns. Nice stuff, I enjoy it.

Brady now adorns my desktop wallpaper. When my suitemates decided that plastering the common room with Orlando Bloom might be an acceptable idea for this semester (they haven’t done it yet), I asked if we could make a little space for Tom. Seeing that I’m moving to Boston in T minus four months, he may make it further on this list soon. I don’t know though.

2) Mark Brunell

Okay, so I have a thing for guys who are left handed. Maybe it’s that I hold my utensils like a lefty? I don’t know. Well, anyway, I’ve thought he was hot since eighth grade. I heard all of these comparisons saying that Brunell was the next Young, that they both could be running backs, that they were both leftys, and so I decided to check it out. Mark Brunell has continuously been good, but it always feels like he’s forgotten. Like you had Young, Favre, Elway, Bledsoe, Aikman…and then Brunell just kind of did just as well, but never really could get fully recognized. I hope he finds a good home somewhere (man, I sound like I’m talking about a dog up for adoption or something.) Plus, he did a football card once with Steve Young. I don’t have it, but I remember seeing a feature on it on that kids NFL show that used to be on. I wanted that card blown up poster size and placed next to my bed, or better yet, on my ceiling. Ahh, to be fourteen again…or not.

1) Steve Young

Okay, I won’t ramble. We all know my feelings on him. Super good player, super good analyst, super hot guy. But, although he’s number one, he does have his downsides, the biggest one being that he’s Republican. Boo. Besides that, though, he is wicked hot. And he was the best quarterback ever, and not just because he was hot. He was way too much fun to watch. I mean, sure, he backed off running as he got concussion ridden, but back in 1994, he was so much fun. He could throw to Rice, hand it off to Watters, or just run it himself. And they would score no matter what. True, his supporting cast had a lot to do with it, but I think his team leadership did more for that team than sometimes his performance. Remember when the Niners lost to the Eagles in 94, and Young was wicked angry and just went off on Seifert? And from that game on, the tone on that team changed.

So maybe Favre, Montana, McNabb, whoever can set more records, call more audibles, win more Super Bowls, rush for more yards in the postseason, all of that. Maybe Young wouldn’t of done all of this without people like Rice, Hearst, Stokes, Owens (blech), and his line. But you know what? I think he would of. He did go without Rice for a season. And I think those players came there and wanted to stay there because of Young. They knew that in scrunch time, he could put it together.

I rest my case. You will never convince me differently. (Well…I do no longer think he’s the sexiest man alive. I thought I’d think that forever. So…nah. That’s my only concession. He’ll always be up there in everything else.)

So there you are, my top five hottest quarterbacks of all time. I’m sorry Kit, that I mentioned the Brett man. I had to get it off my chest. If you have any additions, feel more than free to give them to me.

BONUS: Oh, and for the over-40 set out there, I present my Mom’s Hottest Three NFL Quarterbacks of all time (complied from years of my mom walking into the living room while my Dad and I watched football).

In no particular order (yet–I’ll ask her): Jeff Hostetler (Raiders), Brett Favre, and Flannel-Shirt-Wearing-With-Sixteen-Kids-Buffalo-Era Drew Bledsoe.