The easy post would be to talk about the upcoming golden anniversary of the Super Bowl--or at least that's the post that most would expect coming from the unapologetic football enthusiast. So I could easily ramble on and on about the matchup between two former No. 1 overall picks in Peyton Manning (1998) and Cam Newton (2011). Building up the drama between the No. 1 scoring offense (Carolina) and the No. 1 overall defense (Denver) is a cakewalk. Highlighting that this is the third straight time that both of the No. 1 teams from each conference are facing each other in the Super Bowl is child's play. I could even salivate over the fact that Cam Newton could end up being the third quarterback in NFL history along with Joe Namath and Joe Montana to win a college national championship and a Super Bowl. However, as we are two days into Black History Month, what is even more interesting to me is that Cam Newton could be the first Black starting quarterback in NFL history to win a college national championship and a Super Bowl. Let's be clear: I love Peyton Manning as a person, a football genius, an excellent ambassador for the NFL and the epitome of good sportsmanship. If he were playing anybody else, then maybe I'd be rooting for him. Nevertheless, I have decided to cheer for the Carolina Panthers in Super Bowl 50 for the following multilayered reason: a victory for Cam Newton would not only be the first Super Bowl win for the Carolina Panthers franchise, but it would also be another triumph in the rich legacy of Black history as well as the American cultural and historical narrative. As the late, great James Brown once said, "In order for me to get down, I got to get in deep..."
If it hasn't been abundantly clear by now, I kinda sorta have a teeny weeny bit of a love affair with music. Unfortunately, I was on somewhat of a personal protest as I have neither wanted to make music of my own nor listen to any music--especially mine. However, Madden NFL 16 has been my biggest guilty pleasure as of late and it's hard to avoid music when you hear the same songs repeatedly while assembling your Madden Ultimate Team. (SHAMELESS PLUG ALERT: username is LateBloomer928 if you want that work on PS3. I'm top flight aight, son.) Combine that with the awesomeness of the SoundHound app and I've been looking up many of these artists in between snaps and at least coming around to listening more and sulking less. Because I love to share what's been catching my ear just as much as I love to listen, I have decided to birth a new monthly posting series to do just that. Some stuff I've been hip to for days, weeks, months and years, while other things might have you saying, "Bruh...is Jimmy Hoffa under that same rock with you?" Either way, you'll have an idea of what the soundtrack for my life is--well, at least for that month.
Whelp, despite being perfect during the Divisional Round, I just can't get all of my picks right every single week. Glass half full moment though: some poor guy out there bet on the Patriots and Cardinals and his old lady set her Jesus to the side to cuss him out for pissing away her emergency stash for her Newports. Anyway, since we as avid football fanatics are forced to wait two weeks before the last and most important game of the NFL season, I am not making my highly-anticipated Super Bowl prediction until next Tuesday. In fact, I'm strongly considering not even doing a typical prediction post, but I'll see how I feel by then. However, do not fret as I am here to 1) provide a more extensive recap of the AFC and NFC Championships than I have with the other playoff games and 2) help all five of you with your growing case of #FOFSE (Fear of Football Season Ending). Let's not waste any more time, good people...
When my mother, my brother and I moved to Elmira Street in Southwest D.C. in 1994, we were blessed with a decent snowfall in December. After my brother and I built a snowman named Paco, a few of the neighborhood girls saw him and immediately declared war. Let's just say Paco couldn't withstand the fury of the snow fight and neither did one of my soon-to-be best friends--one of the war declarers who got hit in the head by one of my schoolmates with a hard snowball that sent her in the house. (We all laugh about it now, but she wasn't laughing then. Come to think about it, she doesn't really laugh that much now. Maybe the rest of us just laugh at her.) Fast forward three years later to college and that signaled the end of my love affair with snow. Being in upstate New York where they get snow like Seattle gets rain, they couldn't care less about three feet of snow on the ground; you just better have your butt in class because the professor that lived in nearby Ithaca was going to expand your mind through rain, hail, sleet or snow and make it before the end of that 15-minute grace period. Heck, there was snow on the ground two weeks before my graduation in mid-May of 2001. You grow up and you realize that you don't get to be the teenage kid defending the honor of your pitiful looking snowman anymore. Unfortunately, you have to be the responsible adult who has to lace up his Tims, walk 15-20 minutes to get on the subway and trek to work because you live the second closest out of everyone designated as emergency staff. You get to watch the neighborhood kids sled down hills and snow embankments and play with shovels while you're actually using every muscle in your body with yours while A Tribe Called Quest's The Low End Theory, Royce Da 5'9" and DJ Premier's PRyhme or Freddie Gibbs' Shadow of a Doubt albums are just about the only things helping you to ignore slowly losing the feeling in your fingers and toes. Add insult to injury: you live in a region where schools close if it rains hard enough--except in D.C.--so imagine being told that a snowstorm of historic proportions is on the horizon. Thus, as we deal dig out of the aftermath from Winter Storm Jonas (someone in one of my Facebook said that she didn't realize that they gave names to winter storms), allow me to trudge through five reasons why winter weather in the Greater Washington Metropolitan Area bothers every piece and portion of my existence...
Hello everyone...my name is Dirk Scribbler...and I'm a D.C. Metro geek. (Cue the other weirdos in the room screaming, "HI, DIRK!!!") Ever since seeing this commercial on TV that featured a toy bus and train that was never for sale--believe me, I researched it and asked my mom and dad about it to no avail--I have been fascinated by every and all things Metro since 1985. I know what the Flxible New Looks, the GMC "Fishbowls", the MAN SG310s or the God-forsaken Neoplan AN440s are. (If you rode a bus out of Southeast between the mid-1980s and the early-1990s that was supposed to be an upgrade from the older New Look models but got stuck on one that broke down, then you already know what a Neoplan AN440 is, too, and can understand my bittersweet disdain.) You didn't need to go all the way to Metro Center or call 637-7000 because I was the original Metro NextBus for the hood, literally possessing every bus schedule in circulation. Entire Saturdays and Sundays were blocked out to either build scale-model Metrobuses out of cardboard paper or ride bus routes and subway lines from one end to the other. Oh yeah, and it also doesn't help that at least four relatives on my dad's side of the family currently work for Metro; heck, I wanted to be a bus driver when I was eight years old and my first job at 22 was nearly with Metro if it weren't for a six-month waiting period to enter their training program. I guarantee that you probably won't find anybody in your six degrees of separation who is as obsessed with the Washington Metropolitan Area Transit Authority (WMATA) as I was and, to a certain degree, still am. However, amidst rising fares, safety hazards, an aging rolling stock of rail cars and a revolving door of general managers--they went ten months without one last year--the Metro that I grew up loving so much is just not the award-winning transit system that it used to be. As a youth, all I had to do was make sure that I had enough tokens or enough on my student farecard to get to and from school and just enjoy the ride. Now I have the thought of possibly not making it home in one piece sitting deep in my subconscious. So being inspired by frequent conversations that I have with Facebook friends as well as an actual page of the same name started by one of my high school friends, entertain me as I go through my own personal "WMATA Chronicles".
