Marcie (m)
Mark Grace Day : A Day of Revelry
There's not too many things sports-wise that get me excited, which may be somewhat of a misleading statement after last night's Bears-filled BLARG. But, when I see someone who's plugged away year after year on disappointing teams finally get to the World Series and win, I smile. Mark Grace, to all you laypeople, is somewhat of a Chicago icon who was known to swing a mean, yet consistent bat ***1***; he hit somewhere around 20 homers; and never missed a step in the field. Not to mention the fact that the guy smoked like a fucking chimney and drank himself into a hole after every game. He basically has the physique and metabolism that every red-blooded American male wishes he could have. And we shamelessly supported our Gracie, some by putting framed pictures of him on the mantle above the old fireplace ***2***, some still have coveted "rated rookie" cards stored safely in plastic cases in parent's basements. Women adored him. And then the Cubs sent him packing. For shame.
But now, Gracie is vindicated, old school style. Less than one year away from the Friendly Confines and our beloved Gracie has a reserved finger for a brand new ring, and we can't help but smile knowing that he used to be one of ours.
Top 3 Songs Over 6 Minutes I'd Have Played as a Mark Grace Tribute: "Racin' in the Streets" Bruce Springsteen, Darkness on the Edge of Town; "Hey Jude" The Beatles, anywhere you can fucking find it; "November Rain" Guns N Roses, Use Your Illusion I
***1*** .315 or so every year on the Grace-O-Meter
***2*** reference Matt's former apartment/former SLK practice room
Mark Grace Day : A Day of Revelry
There's not too many things sports-wise that get me excited, which may be somewhat of a misleading statement after last night's Bears-filled BLARG. But, when I see someone who's plugged away year after year on disappointing teams finally get to the World Series and win, I smile. Mark Grace, to all you laypeople, is somewhat of a Chicago icon who was known to swing a mean, yet consistent bat ***1***; he hit somewhere around 20 homers; and never missed a step in the field. Not to mention the fact that the guy smoked like a fucking chimney and drank himself into a hole after every game. He basically has the physique and metabolism that every red-blooded American male wishes he could have. And we shamelessly supported our Gracie, some by putting framed pictures of him on the mantle above the old fireplace ***2***, some still have coveted "rated rookie" cards stored safely in plastic cases in parent's basements. Women adored him. And then the Cubs sent him packing. For shame.
But now, Gracie is vindicated, old school style. Less than one year away from the Friendly Confines and our beloved Gracie has a reserved finger for a brand new ring, and we can't help but smile knowing that he used to be one of ours.
Top 3 Songs Over 6 Minutes I'd Have Played as a Mark Grace Tribute: "Racin' in the Streets" Bruce Springsteen, Darkness on the Edge of Town; "Hey Jude" The Beatles, anywhere you can fucking find it; "November Rain" Guns N Roses, Use Your Illusion I
***1*** .315 or so every year on the Grace-O-Meter
***2*** reference Matt's former apartment/former SLK practice room
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