This, Sir, Is My Case! Rembert Browne '09 takes his talents to Grantland.com
"A lot of people working here are staying in hotels and stuff, but I just decided to do the camping thing," Browne explained.
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"A lot of people working here are staying in hotels and stuff, but I just decided to do the camping thing," Browne explained.
It's the first week of spring, and sure enough, it's always snowy in Hanover. And by the way, I just checked the forecast for you. Weekly high of 53 degrees, snow on Wednesday, rain on Thursday. Welcome back everybody!
"On different sides of the same tablet, fresh and grim both dwell." Confucius
There are a lot of entertaining stories going on in the sports world right now. Jeremy Lin continues to defy his doubters, Peyton Manning's return to the Colts is providing an interesting subplot to the upcoming NFL draft and baseball even made the headlines today after Albert Pujol reported to a different spring training camp for the first time in his 11-year career.
I don't really understand how anyone could ever really call themselves a "Kobe Bryant fan." What is it about him as an icon that makes him appealing? Is his allure based solely on his undeniable greatness on the basketball court? Or are some people drawn to his icy, effortlessly cool demeanor in the way that the "popular kids" in high school have become a cultural archetype?
To my two and a half loyal readers, apologies for the brief hiatus. I'll be the first to admit I have been inconsistent lately. The steadfast editors have been giving me opportunities to write, and I've just been plain dropping the ball. Call me Wes Welker. Call me Deion Branch. Call me Aaron Hernandez. But this time, I'm not going to miss an opportunity to make a great play. So don't call me Rob Gronkowski. And yes, this column is going to be about the Super Bowl.
Say what you want about America over one-third of our adults are considered overweight; we don't like our president, but we like all the other options even less; "Jack and Jill" (2011), a movie in which Adam Sandler played both the male and female lead roles, opened at No. 2 at the box office and has grossed $73 million to date.
As the old adage goes, a tied game is like kissing your sister. Although I don't have any sisters, I can empathize with what that sentiment means.
Get yourself to Providence, R.I., on Saturday. Save the excuses. I don't want to hear about your moderately long government paper or a capella rehearsal or that the trippee reunion you've been talking about since freshman Winter is finally happening. It's Saturday. Act like a normal person and save your work for Sunday after the second airing of "How to Make it in America." Borrow a car. Rent a car. Steal a car. Whatever you do, make sure you're in Providence on Saturday at 4 p.m. when the men's soccer team takes on the Brown (Turds! Got 'em!) Bears in a winner-takes-all matchup with the Ivy League Championship hanging in the balance.
Winter is coming. As the snow fell upon Hanover this weekend, I stared out the window, contemplating my own mortality (and what I was going to order for dinner). The date was Oct. 30, and yet a wispy white layer of snow coated the lawn before me. I sat still. A man and his thoughts, letting the snow fall swift and gently upon the grass.
As graduation approaches, it's time to address one of the oldest and most fundamental questions in sports: Does sex affect performance on game day? Perspectives on the subject range from scientific theory to old wives tales. Some athletes swear against it, others see it as a staple of their pre-game routine. As the immortal English footballer George Best once said, "I certainly never found it had any effect on my performance. Maybe best not the hour before, but the night before makes no odds."
Happy Thursday, happy Homecoming and a happy welcome back to all of the alumni trickling into Hanover over the next couple of days (as long as you don't chafe the pong lines too much).
Tuesday was a big night for Dartmouth. As I meandered across the Green, I could feel the buzz emanating from the Bloomberg stage, the assorted news vans and Michele Bachmann's tour bus. Whether you were a Democrat, a Republican or even a reasonable person preferring to stay above the oftentimes-juvenile poop flinging that is primary-election season, you got that feeling.
"I might be too strong out on compliments, overdosed on confidence, started not to give a f*ck and stop fearing the consequence ..." Believe it or not, those words, so dripping with savory audaciousness, were not penned by the rhyme guru Bill Shakespeare, the brazen Ernest Hemingway, nor Dartmouth's favorite pseudo-son Theodore Geisel '25. Nay, these words of wisdom come straight from the mouth of Drake (Ca$h Money Records, shout out to Weezy on the track). "Headlines" will surely prove to be one of this fall's hallmark tracks (along with revival of Kevin Lyttle's 2003 classic, "Turn Me On" trust me, it's already begun) in no small part to the steadfast message of unbridled confidence it espouses.
Earlier this MLB season, an ugly incident transpired between veteran Yankees catcher Jorge Posada and his manager, Joe Girardi. Posada, who was in the midst of a season-long slump, had already been relegated to full-time designated hitter status in favor of free-agent signing Russell Martin. And then one May evening, he showed up to the ballpark to discover he was to hit ninth in the lineup against the visiting Red Sox in a nationally televised game. So he left the stadium, more or less refusing to play.
Four years ago, I sat down with Nick Pappas '12 to discuss coming from Phoenix, Ariz., to Dartmouth, and what it was like to be a freshman on a successful Division I team. Now a co-captain for the men's soccer team, he took some time to reflect on how his perspective and priorities have changed over his Dartmouth career.
It is with a strange combination of heavy-heartedness and pure, unbridled ecstasy that I sit down to write my last column of 11W. While the loss of a somewhat-relevant public forum will almost certainly result in a blow to my already fragile, self-inflated ego, the fact that winter is drawing to a close has started a fire within me. But true to form, when the one actually somewhat pleasant season for being in Hanover arrives, I'll be traveling south to Argentina, where it will be the fall.
Awards season. I don't know whether it's general boredom or the need to make February a little more memorable, but for some reason around this time people feel the need to start handing out hardware like Collis Ray (or his protg, Henry Luehrman '12) deals breakfast sandwiches. My theory is that, by the doldrums of early March, everyone could use some recognition. A little self-esteem boost. Just a symbolic pick-me-up that says, "Hey, here's to you."
Call it end of term apathy or Winter Carnival hangover or whatever you want, but for some reason this week's inaugural mailbag felt slightly lighter than I expected. After only minimal amounts of self-promotion and arm-twisting, however, I was able to dig out a few worthy questions from loyal or soon-to-be-loyal readers. And, to quote Bill Simmons, "These are actual questions from actual readers."
There are three things I enjoy doing in my free time. One is watching re-runs of "Arrested Development" online. Two is falling asleep during the 11 a.m. edition of "SportsCenter." And the only other thing I do when I'm not paying homage to Tobias Fnke or being lulled into a nap by Stan Verrett is think about ways to get more people to read this column.