I watched this one twice.
Not twice the way I had watched No Crossover or Without Bias before, prior to starting this project; twice last night prior to writing this entry.
The first time I watched it, things that were said hit me, touched me, moved me, and made me smile. I could remember the essentials of them, but I figured "Why not get them perfectly accurate?"
So I watched again, this time with a pen in one hand, the remote in the other, my finger hovering over the pause button so I could scribble down the powerful messages coming from this moving work.
The 16th Man is a story about the power of sport, but it's also a story about forgiveness, acceptance, and working to change the future instead of dwelling on the past.
The film tells the story of the 1995 Rugby World Cup in South Africa, and how that event brought the country together, led by Nelson Mandela.
Monday, December 5, 2011
Saturday, December 3, 2011
Run Ricky Run
Is it Ricky Williams or the rest of us who are screwed up?
That one of the fundamental questions of Sean Pamphilon and Royce Toni's outstanding five-year look at the NFL running back who walked away from the sport in August 2004.
Everyone was quick to judge Williams for hanging up his cleats, saying he chose smoking marijuana over playing football, but ask yourself this: if you're not happy playing football – and not happy with who you are — should you really keep playing just because everyone else thinks that what you should do?
Just because few people could fathom walking away from a lucrative NFL contract, the spotlight, the fame, and everything else they associate with being a professional athlete doesn't mean Williams was wrong in his decision. It was his decision, for his reasons, and it seems to have helped him grow as a person, which trumps anything he could have achieved on the football field.
That one of the fundamental questions of Sean Pamphilon and Royce Toni's outstanding five-year look at the NFL running back who walked away from the sport in August 2004.
Everyone was quick to judge Williams for hanging up his cleats, saying he chose smoking marijuana over playing football, but ask yourself this: if you're not happy playing football – and not happy with who you are — should you really keep playing just because everyone else thinks that what you should do?
Just because few people could fathom walking away from a lucrative NFL contract, the spotlight, the fame, and everything else they associate with being a professional athlete doesn't mean Williams was wrong in his decision. It was his decision, for his reasons, and it seems to have helped him grow as a person, which trumps anything he could have achieved on the football field.
Silly Little Game
My name is Spencer (Edgar Spencer), and I'm a fantasy sports addict.
(Hi Spencer.)
If you're like me, someone who plays fantasy football in the fall, basketball through the winter, baseball in the spring and summer, has dabbled in golf and hockey, and even tried Fantasy NASCAR once despite the fact that I (a) think NASCAR is ridiculous and (b) know next to nothing about NASCAR, you'd enjoy the latest addition to The 30 for 30 Project, Silly Little Game.
What is now known as Fantasy Baseball originated as Rotisserie Baseball.
Why "rotisserie" you ask? Well, it's because the men who first cooked up the idea liked to meet at La Rotisserie Francaise for chicken. No, I'm not making that up.
Silly Little Game traces what has become a massive industry back to its origins, when a group of friends began playing a game they'd created where you drafted your own team of players and ranked each team across several different categories based on their accumulated stats.
Two things:
(1) They started with just National League players, using an auction format for their draft.
(2) One man, Dan Okrent — the lead "Founding Father" or rotisserie baseball — kept track of all the stats. By hand. From boxscores.
That makes me feel spoiled by technology and extremely lazy.
(Hi Spencer.)
If you're like me, someone who plays fantasy football in the fall, basketball through the winter, baseball in the spring and summer, has dabbled in golf and hockey, and even tried Fantasy NASCAR once despite the fact that I (a) think NASCAR is ridiculous and (b) know next to nothing about NASCAR, you'd enjoy the latest addition to The 30 for 30 Project, Silly Little Game.
What is now known as Fantasy Baseball originated as Rotisserie Baseball.
Why "rotisserie" you ask? Well, it's because the men who first cooked up the idea liked to meet at La Rotisserie Francaise for chicken. No, I'm not making that up.
Silly Little Game traces what has become a massive industry back to its origins, when a group of friends began playing a game they'd created where you drafted your own team of players and ranked each team across several different categories based on their accumulated stats.
Two things:
(1) They started with just National League players, using an auction format for their draft.
(2) One man, Dan Okrent — the lead "Founding Father" or rotisserie baseball — kept track of all the stats. By hand. From boxscores.
That makes me feel spoiled by technology and extremely lazy.
Friday, December 2, 2011
No Crossover: The Trial of Allen Iverson
I watched this one even before I thought about starting this project, for multiple reasons.
Like any other basketball fiend, I'm a huge fan of director Steve James' Hoop Dreams, the award-winning documentary about two high school basketball players in Chicago, William Gates and Arthur Agee (note: no Google needed), and they respective journeys through their senior year and beyond.
Secondly, I'm an Allen Iverson fan; have been from Day One — Georgetown Day One, not NBA Day One either.
Lastly, stories like this intrigue me — and often end up annoying me — so when I got the box set back at the end of October, No Crossover was one of the first films that hit my DVD player.
Before he was "The Answer," Iverson was "Bubba Chuck," a two-sport star at Bethel High School in Hampton, Virginia. Before he was a polarizing figure in the NBA, he was high school kid who almost never made it to college, let alone the pros, as a result of the bowling alley brawl that serves as the focus of this excellent film.
Like any other basketball fiend, I'm a huge fan of director Steve James' Hoop Dreams, the award-winning documentary about two high school basketball players in Chicago, William Gates and Arthur Agee (note: no Google needed), and they respective journeys through their senior year and beyond.
Secondly, I'm an Allen Iverson fan; have been from Day One — Georgetown Day One, not NBA Day One either.
Lastly, stories like this intrigue me — and often end up annoying me — so when I got the box set back at the end of October, No Crossover was one of the first films that hit my DVD player.
Before he was "The Answer," Iverson was "Bubba Chuck," a two-sport star at Bethel High School in Hampton, Virginia. Before he was a polarizing figure in the NBA, he was high school kid who almost never made it to college, let alone the pros, as a result of the bowling alley brawl that serves as the focus of this excellent film.
Thursday, December 1, 2011
Guru of Go
Been a pretty basketball-heavy last couple of days in 30 for 30 land, but I'm not complaining. Watching these films has gotten me back in love with the game, and excited about the upcoming NBA season by extension.
This one also made me more than a little sad. In fact, this one brought my wife out of from making gingerbread in the kitchen and onto the couch to sit with me, the emotions in my voice evident when she asked me about something that was said in the film.
Guru of Go tells the story of basketball coach Paul Westhead and his style of play, known simply as "The System," focused primarily on his time at Loyola Marymount University.
The best way I can describe it is if you took the Mike D'Antoni era Phoenix Suns — Nash, Amare, Matrix, whoever played the 2 knocking down threes — and pressed fast forward. For the entire game. Every game. No matter who was on the other side of the court.
This was YMCA pickup hoops at the NCAA level, and it produced the highest scoring team in NCAA history. It also produced one of the saddest stories and most memorable NCAA tournament performances I can remember.
This one also made me more than a little sad. In fact, this one brought my wife out of from making gingerbread in the kitchen and onto the couch to sit with me, the emotions in my voice evident when she asked me about something that was said in the film.
Guru of Go tells the story of basketball coach Paul Westhead and his style of play, known simply as "The System," focused primarily on his time at Loyola Marymount University.
The best way I can describe it is if you took the Mike D'Antoni era Phoenix Suns — Nash, Amare, Matrix, whoever played the 2 knocking down threes — and pressed fast forward. For the entire game. Every game. No matter who was on the other side of the court.
This was YMCA pickup hoops at the NCAA level, and it produced the highest scoring team in NCAA history. It also produced one of the saddest stories and most memorable NCAA tournament performances I can remember.
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Winning Time: Reggie Miller vs. The New York Knicks
Remember how I rattled off a list of things I missed about the NBA in my post about Without Bias? Watching Winning Time last night gave me more items to at to that list.
The film documents the back-and-forth between Reggie Miller and the New York Knicks, focusing in on the 1994 and 1995 Eastern Conference playoffs.
For anyone old enough to remember those series, you have to watch this film. I was grinning like the Cheshire Cat throughout, thinking back to the heat between the two teams, the under-rated awesomeness of Miller, and how much I really enjoyed seeing the New York Knicks lose in '94.
Let's get this part out of the way right now: Reggie Miller is a Hall of Famer. He averaged 18-plus over an 18-year career, with a couple boards, a couple assists, and a steal on the side, and was an assassin.
assassin (basketball): a player who you don't want to see with the ball in their hands as the clock winds down in a close game, because you're pretty certain they're going to kill it.
That's what this film boils down to as well — Reggie's ability to shine in the spotlight opposite the seeming inability of those Knicks teams to every quite get over the hump.
The film documents the back-and-forth between Reggie Miller and the New York Knicks, focusing in on the 1994 and 1995 Eastern Conference playoffs.
For anyone old enough to remember those series, you have to watch this film. I was grinning like the Cheshire Cat throughout, thinking back to the heat between the two teams, the under-rated awesomeness of Miller, and how much I really enjoyed seeing the New York Knicks lose in '94.
Let's get this part out of the way right now: Reggie Miller is a Hall of Famer. He averaged 18-plus over an 18-year career, with a couple boards, a couple assists, and a steal on the side, and was an assassin.
assassin (basketball): a player who you don't want to see with the ball in their hands as the clock winds down in a close game, because you're pretty certain they're going to kill it.
That's what this film boils down to as well — Reggie's ability to shine in the spotlight opposite the seeming inability of those Knicks teams to every quite get over the hump.
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
The U
This might be the first piece in the series that a wide audience has already watched, as the premiere of The U garnered 2.3 million viewers on December 12, 2009.
If you're a football fan — college or NFL — this is a must-see look at one of the most successful and controversial talent factories in the sport, the University of Miami.
Here's the thing with Miami: you either love them, as my friend Butch has for as long as I've known him, or you hate them, like thousands upon thousands of people most certainly do.
The documentary traces the football program from the Howard Schnellenberger era (1979-83) and wraps with the Larry Coker's 2001 squad that won the National Championship, their fifth in the period covered in the film.
Along the way, they made a lot of fans, launched a lot of NFL careers, and pissed off a ton of people with their actions on and off the field.
While Schnellenberger turned the program into a powerhouse, winning the National Championship in 1983 before departing to coach in the USFL, the period that puts people on either side of The U ran from the Jimmy Johnson years starting in 1984.
If you're a football fan — college or NFL — this is a must-see look at one of the most successful and controversial talent factories in the sport, the University of Miami.
Here's the thing with Miami: you either love them, as my friend Butch has for as long as I've known him, or you hate them, like thousands upon thousands of people most certainly do.
The documentary traces the football program from the Howard Schnellenberger era (1979-83) and wraps with the Larry Coker's 2001 squad that won the National Championship, their fifth in the period covered in the film.
Along the way, they made a lot of fans, launched a lot of NFL careers, and pissed off a ton of people with their actions on and off the field.
While Schnellenberger turned the program into a powerhouse, winning the National Championship in 1983 before departing to coach in the USFL, the period that puts people on either side of The U ran from the Jimmy Johnson years starting in 1984.
Sunday, November 27, 2011
The Legend of Jimmy the Greek
I would like to think that I know who Jimmy the Greek is because his name is known to every male of a certain age, but then I don't think I fall into that age category.
After all, I was 10 when Snyder was let go from his position on The NFL Today on CBS, and how many normal 10-year-olds know the name of the shady looking guy on the NFL pre-game show who makes predictions that people across North America followed religiously?
The answer: kids who grew up with gambling; kids like me.
Anybody who has placed a bet against the spread or at a Las Vegas sports book can thank Jimmy the Greek for that opportunity. This is the man who made the "Vegas line" what it is today, and took betting on sports from being something discussed in dark corners and done in even more shadowy locations into the mainstream.
While he couldn't sit on the air and specifically tell the audience at home to take the points on this game or lay the points on another, Snyder spent 12 years dispensing his brand of insight alongside Brent Musburger, Phyllis George, and former player Irv Cross on the show that paved the way for the litany of preview shows that have followed over the years.
Though there are still plenty of people who view gambling as nothing but trouble, there is no denying that betting on sports has become far more mainstream over the last 25 years.
Just take a gander at how many viewers this year's World Series of Poker final table drew to ESPN and you'll see how prevalent and influential gambling has become. The days of sports betting being a back-room activity are long gone, and Jimmy the Greek is partially responsible for that.
After all, I was 10 when Snyder was let go from his position on The NFL Today on CBS, and how many normal 10-year-olds know the name of the shady looking guy on the NFL pre-game show who makes predictions that people across North America followed religiously?
The answer: kids who grew up with gambling; kids like me.
Anybody who has placed a bet against the spread or at a Las Vegas sports book can thank Jimmy the Greek for that opportunity. This is the man who made the "Vegas line" what it is today, and took betting on sports from being something discussed in dark corners and done in even more shadowy locations into the mainstream.
While he couldn't sit on the air and specifically tell the audience at home to take the points on this game or lay the points on another, Snyder spent 12 years dispensing his brand of insight alongside Brent Musburger, Phyllis George, and former player Irv Cross on the show that paved the way for the litany of preview shows that have followed over the years.
Though there are still plenty of people who view gambling as nothing but trouble, there is no denying that betting on sports has become far more mainstream over the last 25 years.
Just take a gander at how many viewers this year's World Series of Poker final table drew to ESPN and you'll see how prevalent and influential gambling has become. The days of sports betting being a back-room activity are long gone, and Jimmy the Greek is partially responsible for that.
Without Bias
Director: Kirk Fraser
That Len Bias never played in the NBA is a tragedy.
I was only seven-years-old when Bias died on June 19, 1986 of cardiac arrhythmia induced by a cocaine overdose, but as a basketball fiend up until the time I was 21, I knew all about the former University of Maryland standout.
We never got the chance to find out, but Bias could have been a superstar. Should have been is probably the more correct wording, because I don't think there was much chance that he wouldn't have achieved greatness in the NBA, especially not playing alongside Bird, McHale, "The Chief," DJ, and Ainge at the Garden every night.
It was the perfect situation for a player like Bias to come into — a spot on the defending NBA champions, removing the pressure placed on so many young shoulders to come in and turn around a franchise.
Adding an athletic 6'8" swingman to that squad would have been nasty, and it's a shame that we never got the chance to see it.
That Len Bias never played in the NBA is a tragedy.
I was only seven-years-old when Bias died on June 19, 1986 of cardiac arrhythmia induced by a cocaine overdose, but as a basketball fiend up until the time I was 21, I knew all about the former University of Maryland standout.
We never got the chance to find out, but Bias could have been a superstar. Should have been is probably the more correct wording, because I don't think there was much chance that he wouldn't have achieved greatness in the NBA, especially not playing alongside Bird, McHale, "The Chief," DJ, and Ainge at the Garden every night.
It was the perfect situation for a player like Bias to come into — a spot on the defending NBA champions, removing the pressure placed on so many young shoulders to come in and turn around a franchise.
Adding an athletic 6'8" swingman to that squad would have been nasty, and it's a shame that we never got the chance to see it.
Saturday, November 26, 2011
Muhammad and Larry
Director: Albert Maysles
I feel bad for Larry Holmes.
He's that dude who deserves to be voted into the starting lineup of the All-Star Game every year but gets bumped to coming off the bench because a bazillion fans voted for an injured Yao Ming instead.
Holmes was stuck between two of the most iconic heavyweight fighters in the boxing — Muhammed Ali and Mike Tyson. Despite all his success, he's the forgotten man that connects "The Louisville Lip" to "Iron Mike," and I feel bad for him because of it.
Watching Muhammad and Larry, you see the difference style and personality and charisma can make. It's not that Holmes lacked any of those things; it's just that like everyone else in the world, he couldn't hold a candle to Ali in those departments.
It didn't matter that Holmes was unbeaten and the reigning heavyweight champion of the world or that Ali had been out of the ring for two years prior to their February 1980 meeting at Caesar's Palace in Las Vegas — he was facing "The Greatest of All-Time," a no-win situation if ever there was one.
No matter how the fight played out, there was no way Holmes was going to surpass the legacy of Ali; no one in boxing ever will. Ali transcended the sport and remains one of the most influential athletes of all-time, and everyone that came after him prior to Tyson just couldn't compete with the aura of Ali.
I feel bad for Larry Holmes.
He's that dude who deserves to be voted into the starting lineup of the All-Star Game every year but gets bumped to coming off the bench because a bazillion fans voted for an injured Yao Ming instead.
Holmes was stuck between two of the most iconic heavyweight fighters in the boxing — Muhammed Ali and Mike Tyson. Despite all his success, he's the forgotten man that connects "The Louisville Lip" to "Iron Mike," and I feel bad for him because of it.
Watching Muhammad and Larry, you see the difference style and personality and charisma can make. It's not that Holmes lacked any of those things; it's just that like everyone else in the world, he couldn't hold a candle to Ali in those departments.
It didn't matter that Holmes was unbeaten and the reigning heavyweight champion of the world or that Ali had been out of the ring for two years prior to their February 1980 meeting at Caesar's Palace in Las Vegas — he was facing "The Greatest of All-Time," a no-win situation if ever there was one.
No matter how the fight played out, there was no way Holmes was going to surpass the legacy of Ali; no one in boxing ever will. Ali transcended the sport and remains one of the most influential athletes of all-time, and everyone that came after him prior to Tyson just couldn't compete with the aura of Ali.
Friday, November 25, 2011
Small Potatoes: Who Killed the USFL?
Director: Mike Tollin (Radio, Coach Carter, Varsity Blues)
First things first: I love me some Varsity Blues, and I don't care who knows it.
There's nothing better than Dawson Leary telling his daddy, "I don't want yer life" in a bad accent before eventually winning the game on the old hook-and-ladder play with Billy Bob.
Additionally, Jon Voigt calling Billy Bob "William Robert" is classic too. I'm probably going out to buy Varsity Blues tomorrow.
You're welcome for my small contribution to your royalties, Mr. Tollin.
The USFL is one of those things I had heard about in bits and pieces as I started to become a football fan, but I didn't really know much about the league prior to watching this film.
I knew future NFL stars like Herschel Walker, Reggie White, Jim Kelly, and Steve Young all got their start in the short-lived league, but beyond that, I was clueless.
Having watched Small Potatoes twice now — once prior to starting this project, and again last night prior to writing this piece — I see a lot of parallels between the USFL and the upstart organizations that have come and gone in mixed martial arts over the last few years.
For those that didn't know, I'm a freelance MMA journalist in my professional life, so there is a good chance that there will be some MMA references throughout this series.
First things first: I love me some Varsity Blues, and I don't care who knows it.
There's nothing better than Dawson Leary telling his daddy, "I don't want yer life" in a bad accent before eventually winning the game on the old hook-and-ladder play with Billy Bob.
Additionally, Jon Voigt calling Billy Bob "William Robert" is classic too. I'm probably going out to buy Varsity Blues tomorrow.
You're welcome for my small contribution to your royalties, Mr. Tollin.
The USFL is one of those things I had heard about in bits and pieces as I started to become a football fan, but I didn't really know much about the league prior to watching this film.
I knew future NFL stars like Herschel Walker, Reggie White, Jim Kelly, and Steve Young all got their start in the short-lived league, but beyond that, I was clueless.
Having watched Small Potatoes twice now — once prior to starting this project, and again last night prior to writing this piece — I see a lot of parallels between the USFL and the upstart organizations that have come and gone in mixed martial arts over the last few years.
For those that didn't know, I'm a freelance MMA journalist in my professional life, so there is a good chance that there will be some MMA references throughout this series.
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
The Band That Wouldn't Die
Director: Barry Levinson (Diner, Rain Man, Sleepers, Homicide, Oz)
Imagine spending 30 years cheering for your local team only to have them up and leave in the middle of the night.
That's what happened to an entire city in 1983, when owner Robert Irsay packed up a bunch of Mayflower moving trucks and took the NFL's Colts from their original home in Baltimore to the their current place of resident in Indianapolis.
Now imagine you're actually connected to the team — you work for them — and this has happened. What do you do?
The members of the Baltimore Colts Marching Band just kept playing, hoping that one day the NFL would return to their city and they could once again be the marching band for an NFL franchise.
In an ironic twist of fate, they would get that chance when Baltimore played the role of Indianapolis 13 years later as Art Modell relocated his Cleveland Browns to the city, renaming them the Ravens.
"Mixed emotions" is how the various members of the band who spoke about the arrival of the Browns-slash-Ravens in the documentary described the feeling of being on the other side of things this time around. They knew what the fans in Cleveland felt like, but they wanted a team back in Baltimore as well.
One of the things I'm hoping to accomplish with this project is to reconnect with being a fan again. Not the kind of fan that I've been for the last decade either — the guy who only really pays attention once the playoffs roll around, and that cares more about my fantasy teams than the actual real live team I claim to support when asked.
I want to get back to being as passionate about sports as the members of the Baltimore Colts Marching Band during the 13 years they didn't even have a team. Well, maybe not quite that passionate and committed, but even half as passionate would be a improvement.
Imagine spending 30 years cheering for your local team only to have them up and leave in the middle of the night.
That's what happened to an entire city in 1983, when owner Robert Irsay packed up a bunch of Mayflower moving trucks and took the NFL's Colts from their original home in Baltimore to the their current place of resident in Indianapolis.
Now imagine you're actually connected to the team — you work for them — and this has happened. What do you do?
The members of the Baltimore Colts Marching Band just kept playing, hoping that one day the NFL would return to their city and they could once again be the marching band for an NFL franchise.
In an ironic twist of fate, they would get that chance when Baltimore played the role of Indianapolis 13 years later as Art Modell relocated his Cleveland Browns to the city, renaming them the Ravens.
"Mixed emotions" is how the various members of the band who spoke about the arrival of the Browns-slash-Ravens in the documentary described the feeling of being on the other side of things this time around. They knew what the fans in Cleveland felt like, but they wanted a team back in Baltimore as well.
One of the things I'm hoping to accomplish with this project is to reconnect with being a fan again. Not the kind of fan that I've been for the last decade either — the guy who only really pays attention once the playoffs roll around, and that cares more about my fantasy teams than the actual real live team I claim to support when asked.
I want to get back to being as passionate about sports as the members of the Baltimore Colts Marching Band during the 13 years they didn't even have a team. Well, maybe not quite that passionate and committed, but even half as passionate would be a improvement.
Kings Ransom
There probably couldn't have been a more fitting movie for this project to start on than Kings Ransom, director Peter Berg's look at the 1988 trade of Wayne Gretzky from the Edmonton Oilers to the Los Angeles Kings.
This was the story that dominated my summer vacation when I was nine-years-old.
I lived in a town (Chatham, Ontario) where hockey was closer to religion than sport, and my brother was a standout goalie for the rep hockey team.
Even though my personal hockey career lasted just three laps around our end of the rink during pre-game warm-ups, my life was still dominated by the sport, and this was the lead story for a long, long time.
It's crazy to see the press conference from The Molson House again, 23 years later. I can remember it like yesterday.
"I promised Mess I wouldn't do this" is one of those phrases most Canadian males over the age of 30 just automatically know, and more than a few people might get choked up if you were to say it to them today.
Trivia time: what was the trade itself?
Who and what did Los Angeles give up to get Gretzky, and who went with "The Great One" to LaLaLand?
I'll give you the answer at the end, and no, I didn't have to look it up. I have an eidetic memory for this kind of stuff, and this trade was a big deal to the nine-year-old me.
This was the story that dominated my summer vacation when I was nine-years-old.
I lived in a town (Chatham, Ontario) where hockey was closer to religion than sport, and my brother was a standout goalie for the rep hockey team.
Even though my personal hockey career lasted just three laps around our end of the rink during pre-game warm-ups, my life was still dominated by the sport, and this was the lead story for a long, long time.
It's crazy to see the press conference from The Molson House again, 23 years later. I can remember it like yesterday.
"I promised Mess I wouldn't do this" is one of those phrases most Canadian males over the age of 30 just automatically know, and more than a few people might get choked up if you were to say it to them today.
Trivia time: what was the trade itself?
Who and what did Los Angeles give up to get Gretzky, and who went with "The Great One" to LaLaLand?
I'll give you the answer at the end, and no, I didn't have to look it up. I have an eidetic memory for this kind of stuff, and this trade was a big deal to the nine-year-old me.
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
And So It Begins...
I'm Spencer.
Edgar Spencer technically, but no one calls me Edgar except for my mom when she's incredibly mad. Since I'm 33-years-old, married, and live on the other side of the country from her, I'd have to say it's been a solid six or seven years since I've gotten the "Edgar Spencer Kyte" treatment.
Welcome to The 30 for 30 Project.
Consider this the sports fan version of Julie & Julia, the blog where Julie Powell made recipes from Julia Child's cookbook.
Yes, I just referenced Julie & Julia, and no, I didn't have to look up the reference — my wife owns the book, and I've seen the movie... twice; Amy Adams is delightful, and Meryl Streep is a treasure.
Enough about cute chick flicks that I recommend you watch, let's talk about this little project of mine.
I only discovered the 30 for 30 series this summer when TSN started airing some of the documentaries.
Did I mention I'm Canadian? TSN is our version of ESPN, only with a lot less college basketball and football, and a lot more hockey and curling.
Anyway, I got hooked by a few of the films I watched this summer, and then started scouting out buying the box set. Because my wife is awesome, she bought the complete set for me for my birthday at the end of October.
Edgar Spencer technically, but no one calls me Edgar except for my mom when she's incredibly mad. Since I'm 33-years-old, married, and live on the other side of the country from her, I'd have to say it's been a solid six or seven years since I've gotten the "Edgar Spencer Kyte" treatment.
Welcome to The 30 for 30 Project.
Consider this the sports fan version of Julie & Julia, the blog where Julie Powell made recipes from Julia Child's cookbook.
Yes, I just referenced Julie & Julia, and no, I didn't have to look up the reference — my wife owns the book, and I've seen the movie... twice; Amy Adams is delightful, and Meryl Streep is a treasure.
Enough about cute chick flicks that I recommend you watch, let's talk about this little project of mine.
I only discovered the 30 for 30 series this summer when TSN started airing some of the documentaries.
Did I mention I'm Canadian? TSN is our version of ESPN, only with a lot less college basketball and football, and a lot more hockey and curling.
Anyway, I got hooked by a few of the films I watched this summer, and then started scouting out buying the box set. Because my wife is awesome, she bought the complete set for me for my birthday at the end of October.
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