The Push For WFAN

Hi guys.

As many of you know (because of the constant barrage of tweets and facebook updates) I'm competing in a contest on WFAN. The winner gets a radio show and full tuition to the Connecticut School of Broadcasting. Either of these things alone would be life-changing. Both would make me question why I'd gotten so lucky.

Many of you already know my story. We've done little things like interacted on Twitter; some of you have been kind enough to come keep me company at work (work being a bar where we watch sports together, and talk about sports and discuss our fantasy football lineups and blah blah blah). But many of you I call friends. We've been to games together, watched games together, been elated and dejected together, but sports is the thing around which many of these friendships evolved.

So I just wanted to thank you all. For the support, the encouragement, the retweets, the facebook posts, the hearty (and sometimes heated) debates ... all of it. If I make it through, the next part will be scary and exciting and I will do my best. It's all anyone can do.

I also want to take a second and let you know how this came to be and what it would mean to me.

I entered the first incarnation of this contest 5 years ago at the suggestion of my former coworker and friend, Tony Zazella, who told me it was "my calling." I didn't know about all that, but I thought "what the heck." I probably wasn't as scared as I should've been, because I had no idea what I was getting myself into. I made it to the semifinals, but no further. But I was encouraged, and vowed I would try again someday.

As you all know, life has a way of getting in the way of someday.

I'm not much of a dreamer. I'm a boring ol' realist. But the stars kind of aligned for me, and I don't want to be such a realist that I don't notice when this happens. I lost a job. The place closed unexpectedly, but with the exception of a loss of income, everything about this was a good thing. At the same time, Fantasy Phenom 5 was announced. As far as I know, these have always been held in the summer, but for some reason, this one was in February.

Had I not found myself unexpectedly down a job, there wouldn't have been a time I could audition. But without a job as an excuse to talk myself out of it, I got on a bus and took the 2 1/2-hour trek out to Palisades Mall in Nyack. Because the bus ride took longer than expected, I got there late. Luckily, I was still able to audition, but I was going to be last, or close to it.

I was the only girl there. Just like about every other day at my job. No biggie.

It was a long, nervous wait. But I did it, and now here I am in the semifinals. Instead of having a 1-in-whatever chance, I now have a 1-in-13 (analytics!). 

I don't claim to be an expert. But I love sports... (spectator mostly). I've talked to you guys about them, tweeted about them with you, tailgated with you, and been to countless games with you.

I've seen every team in the Metropolitan area play in their arena (ok, no Devils, but Nets twice).  I love talking about sports, I love New York, and here I am with the opportunity to combine those two things into a job. With a chance to get an education to boot. So bear with me and all my annoying tweets as long as I'm in this thing.

I really want to win it.

No shame in my game.

If you have a few seconds, please vote (scroll to bottom)

http://newyork.cbslocal.com/wfan-fantasy-phenom/

What kind of coach (person) are you?

Much has been made of Tony Dungy's recent comments regarding Michael Sam. People have weighed in, sides have been taken, lines have been drawn. Like so many hot button issues - abortion, gun control, religion - I'm not sure there is a right answer. Cogent and defendable arguments can (and have) been made on both sides. But what I think gets lost is this: Ultimately, it comes down to what you believe in. Who you are. 

People I read and respect have written about it. And while I appreciate and can't argue the views they've expressed, I think there's an aspect that's been missed. There's no question that with Michael Sam in your locker room there will be distractions. Your beliefs - who you are - will either equip you to handle it or won't. Dungy basically admitted he wouldn't want those distractions. Who knows what played into making that statement. Maybe he's a football-only kind of guy, nothing else. Maybe he weighed the risk-to-reward ratio and decided it wasn't worth it. Maybe his religious beliefs helped form that decision. We've come into a time, perhaps, where being a devout Christian may eventually put you in the minority. But good for Tony Dungy for holding true to what he believes. There's a lot that goes into making a statement like that. And I'm not judging.  Maybe the distraction isn't worth it. Maybe he can't get past his beliefs. Whatever the reason, Tony Dungy believes the distraction of Michael Sam isn't worth the reward, and he wouldn't want to be the person to deal with it. He's admitted he's not that guy, and that's OK.

But I'm damn sure glad that Jeff Fisher exists. The world needs more of THAT guy.

On Ochocinco and the pretty judge

I get both sides of it. Really, I do. Who doesn't love an innocuous slap on the ass? I'll tell you who doesn't ... a judge that doesn't take domestic violence lightly, and who is pretty enough to understand how hard it is to be taken seriously, especially when you're a pretty woman.

Chad Johnson, after almost being let off for a domestic violence incident, decided to pat his lawyer on the butt as a way of thanking him for getting him off. The 12-year-old boy in me gets it. The grown woman in me looks at that judge: sure she's earned her place, but, being pretty, has probably been a hindrance for her. How many times has a Chad Johnson not taken her seriously? 

I can't say for sure if a male judge would have been as offended. All I can say is that I'm happy a female judge was. What that signaled to me, was a big "fuck you" to the hierarchy. Yes, Chad Johnson. You can reality date, and impregnate, and pontificate ... but what you can't do is not realize your place. You're in a courtroom. Facing someone with a position of authority. Act like it.

And that pretty, smart, blond judge didn't miss a beat. Talk about winning life's lottery? That's you, Judge Kathleen McHugh. Still not sure whether or not you overreacted. 

But in cases like this? Give me the over. Every time.

Feminism, and it's pitfalls

Was asked in a bar tonight if I believed in feminism. And I do. In theory. But not in reality. I've always considered myself an absolute realist. And realism has nothing to do with ideology. What I have learned -- as painful as it is -- is that we all are a package. If you give someone a gift, you don't wrap it in newspaper. Same with people. You won't get far if you don't know what you're doing. But if you want someone to listen to you, the reality is this: wear nice clothes, look the best you can, turn on your charm. That's the reality. Intelligence and skill will keep you there, but what opens those doors? Caring about yourself means caring about all of it. And I say that being a smoker, which, of all things, I wish I wasn't.

Entitlement is a weird thing. Realism knows you're entitled to nothing. Use whatever is in your power. Whatever skill, beauty, charm you have .. it's all on the table. To negate any of it, does a disservice.

I was once told that beauty is life's lottery. Not sure I've ever heard a truer statement. Whatever it is that gets your foot in the door, use it. Whether it's beauty, intelligence, charm, family connections ... it doesn't matter. All anyone needs is for that door to open.

It's up to all of us to make the grand entrance.

The Perils of February

Spring Training is officially full force today in Yankee-ville. Today marked the Yanks first full team workout, accompanied by the requisite pics, which, though not particularly exciting or interesting -- or sometimes even visible, really -- still get me excited for the start of baseball season. After flipping through various channels yesterday, and realizing the sports options consisted of golf, hockey, bowling, and lacrosse, even fuzzy spring  training pictures are a light at the end of the tunnel. That tunnel is the end of winter, and it starts in February, after the Super Bowl and before March Madness. It's a long stretch, patch worked together by basketball. Don't get me wrong ... I like basketball. It's just not baseball or football. And it can't compare to the glory of September (and hopefully October). When football is beginning and baseball is coming down the (hopefully meaningful) stretch. 

February is just an awful sports month. And there's the hockey. ALL THE HOCKEY. Even in New York, with all the sports fans I know, I don't know a whole lot of hardcore hockey fans. But as an avid twitterer, I see them often. And they are quite the vocal bunch. I'll give them this: there is no one who loves their sport more than hockey fans, except maybe soccer fans, who also seem to dominate in February, and which also is a sport I have zero interest in..

Granted, there is basketball. My Gators are having a great year in basketball, and it seems as though it's anyone's tournament this year, while at the same time seeming like it isn't Kentucky's or Duke's, which is alone a reason to celebrate. And it is my first year on the Brooklyn Nets bandwagon. Due to a lack of televisions at my current job, I haven't seen as many Nets games as I'd like to, nor have I been to the arena yet. But Brooklyn has been my home for the last 16 years, and any team that plays here, I'll support. Even if it's the Islanders. It can't pain me to root for hockey any more than it's going to pain me to root for Kevin Youkilis.

Speaking of Youk ... I've had a hard time accepting past Red Sox in Yankee uniforms. Some were tougher than others. Johnny Damon? Harder than Wade Boggs, but easier than Roger Clemens. But Kevin Youkilis? If A-Rod hadn't broken my heart so many times -- he's the ultimate "I-love-you-baby-I-didn't-mean-to-hurt-you" kind of guy -- maybe, just MAYBE, I could give Youkilis a shot. But thanks to A-Rod's faulty hips, Kevin Youkilis will be shoved down my throat like a teaspoon of cinnamon. No easing into it. He's just so synonymous with Boston for me. And I really have an irrational hatred of all things Massachusetts. I've been booed there more than once for wearing a Yankee hat, and my parents lived in Worcester, which, if you're unfamiliar with it, be thankful. And then there's the Patriots. And Youkilis is married to Tom Brady's sister! He's a Red Sox, in the most irreversible of ways.

Until he hits his first walk off home run. Yankee fans are fickle like that.

But at this point in the sports year, I'll take it.

At least February is a short month. A short, depressing, cold, hockey-filled month. And if you can get through Valentine's Day and the Slam Dunk Contest, March is around the corner, with St. Patrick's Day and March Madness, which leads right to the start of baseball season. This year, the NCAA Sweet 16 is the appetizer to Opening Day. It's the rebirth cycle of the sports season.

And it can't come soon enough. 

The irony that I'm starting a blog titled Marcia's Monday Musings on a Sunday is not lost on me. I'm starting this with the idea that I will write regularly, at least once a week, preferably on a Monday. Plus, I'm a sucker for alliteration, and the letter M. And while writing once a week is not lofty goals for most, I like to set the bar low.

I'm sort of kidding.

I'm not a writer, but I love them. I truly think they are the most interesting people in the world. And all kinds of them, too. Sitcom writers to sportswriters. Columnists to comedians. Novelists to newsmen. And Aaron Sorkin. I love Aaron Sorkin.

And you too, bloggers. You get a bad rep.

Anyway, I just thought it was a great skill to hone, and I think I'm going to give it a try. I'm sure you'll see a lot of sports here. For those who know me, I'm pretty sports-obsessed, but not athletic in any conceivable way (and I just discovered unathletic isn't a word. Learning stuff already). I don't like all sports. I love baseball (Yankees) college football and basketball (Gators), and have jumped on the Brooklyn Nets bandwagon.

I also live in Brooklyn, and have a huge issue with hipsters. Especially hipsters in Nets jerseys. I hate hipsters in Nets jerseys.

This is where I plan to start keeping track of it all. I bartend in New York City, which comes with it's own set of stories. This blog is really for me. But I'll be happy if anyone cares to come along.

I will try to keep the complaining about the three-year-old upstairs who sounds like he wears cement booties and runs around all day in a kind of morse code iambic pentameter to a  minimum.

Hoping to start in earnest tomorrow.