i don't like this san francisco giants team one bit, not at all.
 
in order to operate successfully as a team, everyone understands all cylinders have to fire in unison. it doesn't do for even one cog in the wheel to be operating in some contrary manner, if there's the vaguest inkling that, when a fellow makes an error, someone on the same squad is secretly rejoicing or even simply thinking to themselves reflexively: "well, at least this loss won't be blamed on me," something along those lines, when there are still full innings left to be played, no matter how deep the hole or awful the enterprise's prospects for a postseason berth.
 
yesterday there was a fiasco involving the first baseman, a guy i'm inclined to dislike because of his overly forced-casual demeanor, chomping of the chewing gum with huge bubbles produced as though the seasoned manager of the ny yankees ballclub, undertaken while batting at the plate or handling infield duties, sometimes even while play is active. although my kneejerk reaction was to blame the error on his lack of communication or poor decision-making, in fact the responsibility fell squarely on the catcher, this person joey bart who, the more i watch, the less i'm inclined towards what was initially an enthusiastic, positive reception.
 
anyone with expertise, not me, should've seen that the guy, wilmer flores, had clearly stepped wide in an elaborate manner, to communicate to the catcher his avoidance of the plate, purposefully avoiding the out at first in order to allow his teammate to secure an out at home plate and thus avoid allowing a run to be scored. that was the proper move, and should've been executed were it not for the total failure on the catcher's part to (apparently) notice the move and act accordingly.
 
the very next play, he inexplicably fails to get a runner out stealing at second, failing to even make a throw that not only would've been attempted by any able catcher in his position, but by the looks of it, would've been very likely to have secured a second out.
 
but, the guy on the mound had been struggling and the inning's runs as well as the holistic loss could easily be chalked up to his poor outing.
 
guess what, that's a good, capable pitcher on the mound. but, it's hard enough battling a finicky umpire and stout batters without having to fight against malfeasance of one's own teammates.
 
how on earth that team has even secured a single win the entirety of this season, is something of a miracle in itself.
 
the funny thing, all these dramatics, the funky dynamics between various players and coaching staff, management and ownership in professional sports, doesn't necessarily detract from entertainment derived by their spectatorship. on the contrary, in fact, it simply adds another layer of fascination for the audience, a juicy fleshy interior into which all these commentators and sports jocks are able to sink their teeth between contests.
 
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re: laver cup competition. any tournament that bills itself as "europe vs. the world, u.s.a. inclusive" is sorely outdated and, as far as lou chosen is concerned, a stupid hilarity, ridiculous delusionism of the fussy self-important ones with the fatuous notion that their noble plot of terrain constitutes a continent in and of itself, entirely contrary to any legitimate assessment according to the meaning of that word.
 
the sight of poor andy murray being heckled by "top coach" novak djokovic, flustering him to such an extent he was left taking a loss against that diminutive argentine who otherwise would surely have been dispatched handily, was bad enough. but what of the two modern-day legends, nadal and federer, caught courtside sharing rueful tears. was there more to their relationship than met the eyes of the general public? clearly.
 
incredible to observe that despite his opponent's decrepit physical condition and retired status, young airhead, tennis great-never-to-be aussie whatever his name, was still unable to notch a win for "everyone on the planet but the pretentious brits, sleazy francophones, irrelevant spaniards, penniless greeks, and vertically-challenged italians."
 
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today features a matchup of tb12 and his tampa bay buccaneers versus the green bay packers' supremely arrogant, exceptionally gifted flinger of footballs with a mostly inexperienced young crew of rising stars and those bound for the shortlived playing career, off the field affairs shortly to eclipse their focus on physical and mental preparations, a lack of discipline in private matters always to be found as a source cause. who shall prevail? the game itself may well be taken by the latter, but as ever, the larger goal and big picture achievements will now and until they hang it up for good, always fall squarely into the lap of the former, and for good reason: he's willing to earn it, while i'm pretty sure the latter's convinced he emerged from the womb spectacular enough in that format alone to be gifted the universe and more. have most people he's encountered in his present vaunted position supported this world view, undoubtedly. still, it's a rather bleak way to go about one's business, with results every football fan knows are rather skimpy and uninspired, particularly if viewed from a team perspective.
 
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once again, i've got no time or inclination to spend available hours on viewership of college sports of any kind. still, their premier division football contests appear to be much more competitive this season, even downright entertaining, with all manner of unexpected twists and turns, pivotal field goal misses credited to the unlikely doink off the very tippity top of an upright, etc etc. i guess if there were specific teams of interest to me from an historic standpoint, having some loose affiliation, i might make an effort to follow one or more of them from a distance. as things stand, it would only be the enticement of an appealing athlete, probably the quarterback or some exceptionally talented other role player, or else a particular liking for one of the head coaches that might prompt me into closer inspection of games.
 
i like sam hartman of wake forest. nick saban and jimbo fisher seem to be head and shoulders above their counterparts, that bulldogs coach, mr. not-so-smart, somehow consistently managing to get good results from his team, also a curious specimen for lou chosen's casual regard.