Shyzer.com

The lack of recent updating here on Shyzer is amazingly not due to the fact that I am lazy. On the contrary my friends. My schedule is so incredibly tight right now that it is hard to even fathom the idea of how I used to just lay around and do little side projects that I always wanted to do.

It seems like I’m always typing up some form of this post every few weeks. There always seems to be something that is keeping me from maintaining a regular posting pattern, whether it be school one month, work the next, lack of inspiration the next, followed by school all over again. Yet this time seems to be different. This time seems to be my own doing and I think I finally understand why. Everything that I have going on right now is purely from my own accord, and frankly it is helping me immensely.

Sure school is sapping up quite a bit of my energy. Don’t listen to Fellner when he says I’m not doing any homework. He lies. I do my Latin homework every night thank you very much. Now if he says anything about this God-forsaken Senior Seminar class that I am in and how I curse it and swear nasty vengeances against whoever invented this course I’m in, he might not be exaggerating too much. Seriously, who in the world gives a damn about Britain from 1660-1760? And who in the hell picked these years?!

Professor #1: Well Jim, I’m not sure what area I think our students should focus on. Sure they need to learn something useful, but I’m all for screwing them over at every possible corner.
Professor #2 (who I should just call Jim): Well Steve, how about just picking some random, insignificant years for them to study? I’m sure you can find some period in British history where there was a Civil War going on that can be blown way out of proportion and made to seem larger then it really was!
Steve-fessor #1: That’s a fantastic idea! And while I’m at it, I’ll prohibit them from writing about any large, grand topic like “British Imperialistic Approaches” or “British Aims in Foreign Relations!” Instead, I’ll compel them to write 30 pages about some pathetic, worthless theme like “British Female Skit Patterns on Dover St. During the Winter Months in 1703!” Oh, Oh, And I’ll make it their only grade! MWAHAHAHA!
Jimmy Boy: *wipes tears of joy from his eyes*

Honestly, this won’t be the last you hear me complain about this class. I simply find it pointless to force students to take a class where they “Learn to be a historian” during their junior year and then “Become a historian” their senior year. If we didn’t know anything about being a historian, I doubt we would have chosen History as our majors. I also highly doubt that any of the 13 or 14 people in my class are hoping to master the topic of Britain from 1660-1760 anytime soon. And in all honesty, I highly doubt any of us are planning on using our History degrees to become your stereotypical historian as many people thing of them as. If all a historian did was research archaic topics and present 30 to 40 page essays on them, I guarantee you only a handful of colleges in America would still be offering History as a major. I truthfully wonder when people will start realizing that majoring in History doesn’t mean your only choices are to go off and teach or work in a museum. But with that rant aside…

My class load this semester is decently full. Aside from that horrendous class I am being forced to take, I have a few other history courses, which have already peaked my interest. The History of Latin America and Controversial American Diplomatic History. The professors in each of those courses are great and the reading material we have been assigned is superb. I’ll never complain about reading 50 or some odd number of pages if the material is at least engaging and interesting. Along with those three history classes, I am taking my final Criminal Justice class (Criminal Law) and an elective class (Intro to Latin). The Criminal Justice class is being taught by a professor that I’ve had before. He’s extremely tough, but fairer then many of the professors I’ve had over my years. He forces you to memorize 30 or 40 trial cases per test, but I truthfully don’t mind them since that’s the only way I seem to memorize the technical aspect of laws.

My final class is an elective since I seem to have saved up many of my electives for my senior year. The class? Intro to Latin. Now I’ve had many people ask me “Goob, what in the hell are you doing taking Latin? Didn’t you already complete your foreign language requirements?” Well, yes, I did satisfy all my foreign language needs, but that didn’t really cross my mind. I’m not taking Latin due to anything other then the fact that I want to learn more languages, starting with English. Huh? Yeah, I thought that might be a little confusing.

See, I have a confession to make. Every single one of the posts I’ve made in the past few months have been typed up in Microsoft Word. I enjoy Notepad much more, but it lacks one key feature. Spell check. I am horrible with spelling. Horrible doesn’t even come close. Horrendous. Wretched. Miserable. I’ve gotten to the point where I am almost perfect with common words because I have worked so hard at becoming a better speller, but if I hear a word that I don’t know how to spell, I’m lost. And the same goes for meanings of words. My weakest area of the SAT came from the section where they give you some random word and you have to figure out what it means. I find that to be the most depressing game ever invented because I suck so horrible bad at it. Until now.

I knew that English basically came from Germanic structure and Latin words and I figured since I already have the structure part down, the Latin part could help me with the words. I’ve only been in the class for a week and I already have improved tenfold. I’m simply amazed at how many English words come from Latin and how many stems and roots I’ve learned. This might easily become one of the best class choices I made during my few years here simply from what I can learn from it. And besides, my future requires me to learn a few new languages, so learning basic Latin can only help.

Alright, this topic veered completely off course. I started planning on explaining what all I’ve been doing to keep myself busy and why I’ve been doing it, yet instead I talked about…well, if you’ve gotten to this point, you should know what I’ve talked about. This post is already long enough as it is, so I guess I’ll save the second part for tomorrow. Until then…

The minute after I uploaded the post about the Olympics last night, I started receiving massive amounts of hits from Yahoo, Google, and AOL from people searching for “kerri walsh misty may slap ass” or “kerri walsh ass” or “misty may is a porn stars name” or “misty may porn star” or “kerri walsh+ass+pictures” or……

Okay, I think you get the picture. My traffic over the past twenty-four hours has easily quadrupled from searches exactly like those or similar ones. So I figured that since so many people are coming here looking for pictures along those lines, I might as well oblige these random people who will most likely never come back to Shyzer again. But I figure that maybe, just maybe, one or two of them might stick around, so it’s worth it to me.

Not that I had any pictures of them on my computer or anything…. =)

Every few years, regardless of the winter or summer edition, I get excited. I clear as much of my schedule as responsibility will let me and flip the TV over to whatever station is broadcasting the Olympics. Whenever NBC has it, like they currently do, I desperately try to overlook the fact that Bob Costas is on the air and focus on the games instead of his idiocy. This year is certainly no exception.

I find it funny when people say they have trouble watching the Olympics. I never have understood how anybody can find it boring to watch the best of the best athletes that the world has to offer perform jaw dropping physical feats that should somehow be illegal. I never have quite wrapped my head around the fact that some people find it boring to watch The Thorpedo (which is easily the coolest nickname in the history of mankind. Hands down.) sped across the length of a swimming pool faster then any man ever before him. I don’t get how some people, like a kid in my class, find it stupid to watch men’s gymnastics since all they are doing is “flipping around a few times.” Oh really? That’s it? Huh. From where I’m sitting they are flawlessly performing aerobatic flips over and over that only 0.0001% of people on this planet can do. But I’m sure that you’re in that percentage, right? I can tell from those bulging biceps of yours that you could easily handle your own on the pommel horse my dear friend.

I enjoy just watching the athletes. Watching their pure emotions, both high and low, is enough to make you get out there and do a few wind-sprints of your own. Watching Paula Radcliff, who holds the world record for a woman’s marathon and who has failed repeatedly to win a gold in Olympic games, stop just three miles short of the finish in the marathon to watching Svetlana Khorkina fail to win the all around gold that has eluded her for entire illustrious career. Halfway through the competition, NBC played a short clip where they interviewed Khorkina and asked her how badly she wanted to win the gold. Her response? “I want to win gold as much as I want to mother my own child.” Ouch.

But nothing has been more excruciating to watch then the face of Matt Emmons after he lost the gold medal in the 50-meter three-position rifle event. Heading into the final shot, Emmons had such a commendable lead, all he had to do was hit the target, anywhere on the target, and the medal was his. He lined up his shot, took aim, and pulled the trigger. As the shot pierced the target well near the center, Emmons smiled in elation as he realized he had just won the gold. But the electronic scoring machine didn’t light up, so the judges met to confer and try to see what the problem was. When the came back to deliver the news to Emmons, it was heartbreaking.

He had shot the target in Lane 3, instead of shooting the target in his Lane 2. He was awarded a score of zero, dropping him to eighth place overall with no more shots to try and make up the difference.

But the pictures of Mariel Zagunis, the nineteen-year-old American who didn’t even have a high enough world ranking to go to the Olympics, as she won gold in fencing will never leave my mind. Originally not on the Olympic squad, she only was allowed to compete when a Nigerian team decided not to show. She went on to prove that just because somebody’s world ranking is low, it doesn’t mean they can’t win on any given day. And anybody who couldn’t muster up the emotion to cheer for the Iraqi soccer team honestly has no soul. Here’s a team that was airlifted out of a capital city under attack, had no real coach for the past year, and decisively decimated every opponent they faced in the Olympics. Now they have a chance to win the bronze medal for their home country. Simply amazing. But the best part? We’ve still got a few more days of action for more events like this to happen.

Yet anybody who knows me knows that my favorite sport during these Olympics is easily Beach Volleyball. It has been the only sport so far to sell out every game in Athens, which that in and of itself is simply amazing given the fact that attendance at all the other events is abysmal. Yet after watching a game or two of beach volleyball, one can easily see why people flock to it in droves. They much see, in person, the amazing duo of Misty May and Kerri Walsh (okay, maybe they’re there for the game or their country and not just these two women. But that’s why I’d be there damnit. These girls are awesome). I marvel at how Walsh can look so good while dominating every opponent she faces. Some of the plays I’ve seen her pull off during the past week have simply left me sitting there shaking my head in disbelief and awe. She just has….it. She has that quality that makes you go “Damn, I bet she is cool” and you know even as the words come out of your mouth that she is. I don’t even know how to properly explain it. You just have to watch her in action, watch her demeanor and expressions. She knows what she wants, she knows she can get it, and she knows she’s gonna work as hard as possible for it. And after a week of watching her beat up on the opposition, I was able to watch her rightfully win the gold medal tonight. I can’t wait to see her play in person.

99% of these athletes will never been in the spotlight again. Sure, they might show up in Beijing in 2008 and maybe even New York or whoever grabs the 2012 games, but for the majority of them, this is it. This is what they have been training for their entire lives. After this, it’s off to train in obscurity again or go find a “real job” to finally start making a living. I don’t think it’s too much to pay them just a tad bit of respect and watch their handiwork for a week or two, do you?

The track and field events are just now starting to get underway and before you know it, the closing ceremonies will be occurring and you’ll realize that you missed some remarkable sporting events over the past few weeks. So I suggest that if you haven’t done so already, flip on over to NBC or one of their sister channels and check out a few minutes of whatever is on. Seriously, it doesn’t even matter what sport it is or what countries are playing. Just watch. You won’t be disappointed.

I know I said I was typing up a new post for tonight, but I got a tad sidetracked. I’ve got a Word doc full of future posts that stands at 2614 current words, so nobody can say I’m not making an attempt here. I just haven’t had the time lately to finish any of the three or four posts that are in that document. One of them is to be posted on Shyzer’s birthday (which is fast approaching) and another is to be posted in early November, but the other topics I need to just hurry up and slap an ending on them. Every time I sit down to write something, the perfectionist in me comes out and demands I make it perfect. I dance around the post for a few hours until the clock reads something similar to 2:45 AM and I finally remember that my entire readership consists of some high school sophomores and a few bored people at work. So why in the hell do I insist I spend so much time on each and every post? Beats me.

I could give you that pointless bullshit about how the first two days of classes went and how I hope I do good this semester and how I already hate one of my teachers. But where’s the fun in that? You can get that crap on any other site, so not here my friends. Instead, you are entitled to some random ramblings until I finally get that Olympic post tweaked and finished.

Lee and I talked last spring about how cool it would be if we could go see the Packers play in Charlotte this season. They are slated for the first Monday Night Football game on September 13th, but of course by the time I remembered this fact, the game was already sold out. Which brings to me this question. If I were to, say, hypothetically buy some tickets on E-Bay, would anybody be willing to go? Maybe this question is not so much hypothetical since I plan on buying them anyways and going regardless, but you get the point. I know Lee and Chong would be down for it. Anybody else?

Beach Volleyball is my newest favorite sport. Kerri Walsh is also my newest favorite athlete. And her partner’s name, which is Misty May, sounds so incredibly like a porn star name that I have trouble not giggling every time I hear it.

Speaking of classes, does anybody happen to know any Latin? I might be calling upon your services in the future.

My apartment is unbelievable. After three years of relative “tardage” as Tommy would call it, I finally have a place I love. It’s a badass loft, which encompasses the entire third floor of the building, and it’s literally two blocks from campus and 50 yards from all the bars and restaurants. Picture may be in store sometime in the future, but regardless, I’ll post a little more about it when I get some time.

And finally, I just want to say thank you to all my friends who have helped me out and been there for me during the past few weeks. Y’all have no idea how much I appreciate it and how thankful I am. You all know who you are and like I said, Thank You so much.

Sweet succulent high-speed internet. How I’ve missed thee.

The cable guy finally showed up today, which means I now have cable internet once again. You can expect my weekly posting pattern to now resume =)

I’ve wanted to post a few things during the past few days, but I sadly still have yet to get Internet set up in my apartment. Time Warner should be here later on today to set it all up, so hopefully I’ll have my blazing cable pipeline up and running by tonight which will allow me to start posting again.

Until then.

There’s nothing quite like feeling alone and depressed at the same time. It’s a feeling I would never wish upon anyone…

I moved back to Columbia yesterday. After I finished moving into my loft, I drove down to Charleston in a vain attempt to see a few people. Nobody answered their phone, so I ended up just turning around and driving straight into rush-hour traffic on my way back to Columbia, At least there was some humor involved as I watched somebody try to mark his territory.

Classes start this Thursday and for some reason I am not looking forward to this semester at all. I know this is just a funky mood I am in, but I still wish I could somehow fast-forward to next semester and leave South Carolina behind. There’s nothing left for me here and I need to start over fresh, clean, and new someplace else. I do find some small comfort as I remind myself “Only four more months…only four more months…”

Oh yeah, I finally got my phone turned back on. About damn time, huh?

I’m busy working on a few other things, but I wanted to just throw out the fact that I loved the Opening Ceremonies to the Olympics tonight. I’ll have a much longer post up later this week about how much I love the Olympics, but I just couldn’t hold off from saying something about the ceremonies tonight.

Seriously, could Cube Man have been any damn cooler? The whole history of Greece was amazingly portrayed, the music was impeccable, and watching the faces on all 11,000 of the athletes was simply humbling. But Cube Man – I don’t know why, but that entire “evolution of man” scene was downright astounding to me. In fact, I’m staying up tonight until around 3:30 AM just to watch the beginning part over again and record it.

I’ll probably get another post up later tomorrow or Sunday, but then I’m gonna be without Internet for a few days. The countdown has finally begun =)

I wish I could say I was ready to go back to school. It’s not that I’m not ready to go back, but instead it’s more of the fact that I doubt going back to school will change anything. These past few weeks, and especially days, have just outright blown and they forced me to do a few things I wasn’t even sure I wanted to do.

I’ve finally completed the process of whittling down my possessions to the bare minimum. I have a few boxes of keepsake items in my dad’s attic, but for the majority of everything else, I either sold, threw away, donated to Good Will, or burned, which means that I now have the capability to pack up everything I own in my truck and take it with me to wherever I please in just one trip.

The finale of 2004 will bring with it the ending of my chapters in South Carolina. I know I’ve always swore I would leave this place once I graduated, but it wasn’t until recently that I figured out where I would go and what I might do. Well lately I’ve put those two questions to rest, but who knew such an epiphany could be this nerve wracking?

I’m keeping my future close to me for the next few months. Not until everything is finalized legally will I be talking about it on Shyzer, but rest assured, as soon as I’m prepared to talk about it, I’ll post about it. Wish me luck.

So long Edgar Martinez.

I first began following the Mariners back in 1992. The likes of their roster back then included players such as Edgar, Omar Vizquel, Ken Griffey Jr, Jay Buhner, Tino Martinez, Mike Blowers, and Harold Reynolds. Over the years, every single player from that team’s roster was released, traded, or retired. Except for Edgar.

Edgar was the staple that recent Mariners fans were used to seeing. Since joining the team in 1986, he’s never played for a single other team. He’s been a member of a rare and elite bred along with the likes of Tony Gwynn, Cal Ripken Jr., and Barry Larkin. He’s not once tried to place money ahead of loyalty, he not once tried to hold the team ransom for a pay raise, and he’s not once ever passed on the opportunity to help out the community and those around him. Instead, he showed up to work every day, usually before the required time, worked as hard as any player there, and returned home to spend the rest of his evenings with his wife and children. His career numbers ranks him as the best DH to ever play the game, having racked up a career batting average of .312, 2,205 hits, 510 doubles, 1,244 RBIs, 1,272 walks, 1,203 runs, 305 home runs, and a .420 on-base percentage. So you can see the Edgar wasn’t just a fan favorite. He was a perennial All-Star player who year in and year our lifted the Mariners onto his back and carried them as far as he could.

If you ask any Mariners fan of their favorite baseball moment, you’re likely to hear Game 5 of the 1995 Divisional Playoffs. It was the first year Seattle had ever made the playoffs in their entire team’s history and in the best of 5 series; they were pitted against the dreaded New York Yankees. In what seemed like a flash, the Mariners lost the first two games and found themselves in an 0-2 hole. They fervently and valiantly fought their way back, winning the next game and staying alive for another day. In Game 4, the Mariners found themselves down 0-5 and were on the verge of elimination…that is, until Edgar Martinez pulled the proverbial rabbit out of his hat and drove in 6 runs to give the Mariners the win. But even that wasn’t enough, as they had only forced the decisive game 5 to be played on Seattle’s home turf…..

No postseason series ever meant more to a franchise than the five-game division set between the Mariners and Yankees in 1995 did to Seattle. Imagining what the Mariners would be like today had they not played that series is like imagining the history of baseball had Babe Ruth and Ted Williams decided to become carpenters. The Mariners had lost $20 million dollars the previous year. Just before the regular season ended, the public voted down a stadium proposal.

But Edgar Martinez was at the heart and core of that series; for you see, in game 5, Edgar not only won the game, but he saved baseball in Seattle.

The two teams traded shots back and forth during Game 5 and by the sixth inning, the game was tied at 2-2. As the Yankees were batting, Don Mattingly delivered a bases-loaded double that cashed in a pair. With one out in the eighth and a 4-2 lead, Yankee’s pitching David Cone was cruising until he left a pitch over the plate for Ken Griffey Jr., who blasted his fifth homer of the series and reignited the Seattle crowd. With two outs, the bases loaded and Mariano Rivera warmed and ready in the bullpen, Yankees manager Buck Showalter committed the timeless “just one more batter” sin with Cone. Pinch-hitter Doug Strange drew a walk, and trotting home with the tying run was a relatively obscure pinch-runner named Alex Rodriguez. Rivera entered and blew away Mike Blowers to stop the bleeding and keep the game tied a 4-4.

In the top of the ninth, Norm Charlton gave up a double followed by a walk, which meant that Lou Piniella could wait no longer: In came Randy Johnson, to the roar of the Seattle faithful. Johnson would be awarded the Cy Young after the season, thanks to his 18-2 record, 2.48 ERA and 294 strikeouts in a strike-shortened season that likely cost him five starts. That was the upside; the downside was that Johnson had worked seven innings in a tough Game 3 battle less than 48 hours earlier. No fatigue was immediately evident, as Johnson whiffed Wade Boggs before getting O’Neill and Bernie Williams to pop up.

In the bottom of the ninth, Rivera gave up a leadoff single to Vince Coleman, who was promptly bunted over to second by Joey Cora. Yankee’s manager Buck Showalter wisely put Griffey on, and signaled the bullpen for the Yankees’ ace, Jack McDowell, who had faced Randy Johnson in Game 3. Black Jack fanned Edgar Martinez and thought that was the last time the Yankees would have to see Edgar and his .571 seies batting average. Oh how mistaken he was.

The teams swapped tenth-inning goose eggs, setting the stage for one of the most dramatic eleventh innings in baseball history. In the visitor’s half, Johnson committed the cardinal sin of walking the leadoff manm who worked his way to second base and ultimately beat out the throw to home on a bloop single. The Yankees headed into the bottom half of the inning with nothing more then three measley outs between them and a ticket to the next round of the playoffs.

In the bottom of the eleventh, Showalter elected not to go to high-priced closer John Wetteland, who had been bombed the night before in Game 4. Instead, he asked McDowell to soldier on. And for that decision, I thank you Mr. Showalter. Joey Cora, who blasted a rare home run some eight innings earlier, was the leadoff man. With the count at 2-1, he surprised the Yankees by laying a perfect drag bunt down on the Kingdome carpet, beating out an infield hit. Griffey followed with a base hit up the middle, and Cora scooted to third with the potential tying run. Once again, Showalter said “just one more batter” to Black Jack, perhaps remembering his clutch strikeout only two innings prior of the next man up, Edgar Martinez. However, History choose not to repeat itself this time around.

As Martinez stepped into the batting box, he eyed Black Jack down and settled into his comfort zone. Ready for whatever pitch was about to come his way, he battled and battled for what felt like an eternity to most Mariners fans. With two strikes on the count and the next pitch on it’s way, Edgar decided to take a swing at the ball and seemingly effortlessly pulled the ball down the left line that bounced into the left field corner.

Cora scored easily. Meanwhile, fans both at the game and watching from home began to realize that Griffey might actually score the winning run from first. Gerald Williams retrieved the ball and as Juniors churned his legs faster then I have ever seen a man run, Tony Fernandez got off a good relay which meant that the Yankees had a play at home. With Junior almost floating off the ground as he sped towards the plate, the ball slammed into the catchers mit only inches above Junior as he joyfully slid home. The call? Safe.

The Mariners had won and the players swarmed Griffey as he lied smiling on home plate. As the dog pile grew, I’ll never forget the image that was shown next. A camera quickly panned over to second base to catch the image of Edgar Martinez standing there, arms outstretch, smile pulled broad, and tears streaking down his cheek.

Following the euphoria generated by the postseason, then-Gov. Mike Lowry called a special legislation session and the state approved construction for a new stadium But more than gaining the Mariners the stadium, the series gained ever-lasting fans, winning over a region that had never before been exposed to such exciting, dramatic baseball. And Edgar Martinez can just fully lay claim to having played the largest role in the entire series.

Edgar stayed around for another 8 1/2 seasons, helping the Mariners make the postseason three more times and tie the major league record for wins in a season at 116. He’s the only player still on the Mariners from that 1995 season. He’s the only player still on the Mariners from that 1992 season. To me, he is the Mariners. I honestly can’t picture them without him. And yet today, at 5:30 PM EST, I was forced to do so. I’ve never shed a tear over a player retiring since I always tell myself that it’s not as if they are dead, they just aren’t playing baseball any more.

Yet today, as I took my shower after work, I quietly said goodbye to Edgar and thanked him for all the memories.

So long Edgar. You’re a Hall of Famer in my book.

And for any of you baseball fans out there, whether you liked, disliked, or even knew of Edgar Martinez, you should go check out this tribute to him written last October. It not only captures the emotion that some fans have with Edgar, but with the emotions all fans have with their favorite players.