Here Are The Exact Reasons I Wasn't At The Phillies/Mets Streams Over The Weekend
"Be curious, not judgmental."
Man oh man do I, as well as everyone with a soul love that scene from Ted Lasso. It's honestly one of those few times in modern popular culture where people can instantly realize a great clip or quote and insert the premise wonderfully in life. It's also amazing because it can be so simple, yet so profound at the same time. You hear "Be curious, not judgemental" in a random moment and you can instantly audible your thinking to something positive, or you can use it for your philosophy and literally change your life. You can also throw out stuff like Christian Bale in Batman Begins - "It doesn't matter what you say, it's what you do that defines you", but that seems a little too cheesy for this palate. Ted Lasso doing the Walt Whitman while throwing darts across the pond hits life just right.
Shockingly related, I was not at the Phillies/Mets streams in NYC on Saturday or Sunday. I know Dave wanted me there. He sent out an email basically ordering it. I mean, I'm flattered. I've been apart of some pretty memorable live streams over the decade and think we've done consistently pretty well with entertaining on there. I don't know, you be the judge:
I sent Dave a text in advance giving the reason why I wasn't going to be there. He didn't reply. It was family related. He knew why I'd be going dark. Still, he decided to be judgmental, not curious. And this happens, again:
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Which naturally leads to a sea of hatred coming my and, disgustingly, my family's way. It is what it is as this point. Can't really do much but take and eat the heat.
Now, the old Smitty would go get CBS out of his cage to go on a rampage. And I applaud Dave for yet another test. He knows exactly what he's doing. But I'm finally not taking the bait. I'm not going to do what I did in the past and go off the handle. Would that be "Better for content"? Maybe. Maybe not. I think trying something a little more mature works better in this case.
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I'm gonna tell some stuff I've never said before that's relatable to everything above.
In 2017, me and the A+ editor who made himself into the magical Rice Boy Dana Beers spent 48+ straight hours in Philly getting footage to promote the upcoming Rough & Rowdy II fight between me and Shaun Latham. However, we had to head back to NYC before the NFC Championship game vs. the Eagles and Vikings. Why? Because it was a mandatory order to be in Barstool HQ2 to stream under threat of death, dismemberment, and oh so much worse at the time, public embarrassment.
I got it then, and I get it now. It's content. I was signed up for that life at that time as a single, childless Blockhead in 2017. But to be honest, I was still pretty bummed about having to stream in NYC and skip the game live. Not because I was lazy or didn't genuinely appreciate Dave or working at Barstool (still do for both). I know I'm incredibly lucky. It was upsetting solely because my father and I spent our finest moments at Eagles games growing up. I've said it before, my Dad and I haven't had the most lovey-dovey relationship. In fact, the only real times we've actually, genuinely hugged outside of funerals was at Eagles games (frequently the same thing, tbh). 4th and 26. Every single Brian Dawkins entry. The NFC Championship game over Vick and the Falcons. Pure, blissful memories. Even the disastrous last game at The Vet where Ronde Barber took all of our lives with them. Was it a shit game? Absolutely. And walking out it was quietest I've ever heard any live sporting event, except for on the subway where my Dad turns to me and says:
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"Pardon my French, but that was fucking disgusting."
Up until that moment it was the only time I've ever heard my father say the "F" word in my entire life. And it was the Eagles disappointing us at The Vet one final, biblical time to get it out of him. What a beyond hilarious core memory looking back on it.
Now, both my parents are on the opposite side of 70 and, while ya never know, I'm not sure if we'll ever have a chance to see a trip to the Super Bowl together again. I'm so, so sorry I missed out on that moment with you, Dad. I love ya. You too, mom.
So…what the hell does that have to do with missing the first ever Barstool Phillies/Mets playoff streams in 2024? We'll get there. But first, let's watch that Ted Lasso clip again. Cleanse that emotional palate.
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Now, I don't know if you saw the piece I wrote on 9/11 about my wife's family - READ IT HERE - but naturally it's a heavy, inexplicably emotionally deal. The way my wife and her family have handled their whole lives has inspired me beyond belief. It's worth repeating, but when my mother-in-law first was read the post all she said to add was, "In the face of evil, we chose love. Hope, faith, gratitude and love will always win in the end." Towards the latter half of the blog, I mention how specifically this past year has been especially tough on our family. I could've went into more detail and into other elements of our unit that would give wayyyyyyyyyyy more insight and transparency, but I'm not going to do that. It's nobody's fucking business (unless my employer privately asks, but that's still never happened).
Friday was my 40th birthday and I knew months ago not to make specific plans (Eagles BYE Week, as well, almost too perfect of a weekend to make work commitments, right?). So of course the Mets and Phillies decide to meet for the first time in history this weekend. I said to myself after that 2017 NFC Championship game if there was a similar, meaningful spot with my family I will be choosing them over Barstool. And you know what? I don't regret my decision. Not one bit. My wife set up my greatest weekend birthday ever. Trivia at the exact spot we got married Fri night. Surprise Phillies tickets Saturday. Sunday packed with fun family stuff with the kiddos all day. There were more core memories created this weekend with my wife and kids (and more importantly for my wife and kids) that were better than anything I've ever done here at Barstool combined.
If you go back to the 9/11 blog and read the final line, you also see how I'm trying to approach life nowadays. When I say "RIP Michael Horrocks, I promise your grandchildren will Never Forget and love will always rise above. After all, the cream always rises to the top." - it's not just for pageviews, or notoriety, or attention, or fame, or money. I fucking mean it. And it's been so, so difficult to try to find a way to do that and attempting to succeed at Barstool Sports without leaning on the crutch of being a complete, soulless piece of shit just for a quick laugh or pageview. Because that's what I was for a period of time. A complete, soulless piece of shit who took shots at people for a quick laugh or a pageview, which is something that's not only allowed here, but encouraged.
Well, when walking out of the Phillies loss on Saturday night, my wife and I were still smiling, holding hands, enjoying the evening. That is, until we came across a young family of Mets fans walking near us dancing and singing to the Diaz trumpets. There was a pair of parents with their two young girls, probably around 8 and 10 years old. They were doing their thing without a care in the world, seamlessly without fearing shit. And after spending 40 years on this Earth frequenting hundreds of Philly sporting events, you sometimes fear shit. You just have to. Especially while dancing and singing the Trumpets after the first ever Mets/Phillies playoff game in South Philly.
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The family was unfortunately also getting the usual, predictable shit talk that came with the territory. Some were laughing cause, you know, it's human to let opposing team's children enjoy their childhood. Also, people were telling them to fuck off. There were even some slurs (definitely not acceptable and really, really sad)….but they kept on singing and dancing. It was actually impressive. I thought about filming them in the name of "Content", but that's when I turned to my wife and, I shit you not, said,
"You know, let's be curious, not judgmental".
We approach the young family and I say simply, "You know, for as much as I hate the Mets, the Trumpets are really freaking cool." Which they are. I'm comfortable enough with my Phillies fandom to admit that. And you know what happened? The genuine smiles from those children could've warmed all the oceans. The girls explained to the mother (who spoke broken English) what was said and she almost started tearing up from two Phillies fans just being…warm. Curious. Human. You can see it in her eyes it wasn't the easiest night wearing Mets jerseys with her family, but they still kept being happy while minding their own business. I easily could've taken out my phone for "Content" to make a mockery of them singing and dancing with a few "GET THE HELL BACK UP 95" or "FUCK YOU, NICE PAYROLL, or "GREGG JEFFRIES STILL SUCKS 35 YEARS LATER" (don't hate the last one tbh). I mean, think about the pageviews, baby! But instead, my wife and I chose to be curious. And we hopefully left a bright mark on that family for the rest of their lives. Ironically, I would love to (responsibly) bet this blog of positivity getting more pageviews, traction, and talk for Barstool than a 10-sec video of hate would've gotten, but i don't know.
Maybe that's just wishful thinking for humanity.
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Before pretty much every old school employee (besides me and Nate) became millionaires, the tagline at the top of Barstool Sports was "By The Common Man, For The Common Man". The only things you had to do to get across to people in a positive way is be funny and/or authentic. I may not be as funny anymore, but if get vilified for being one of the last remaining original people here who try to stay real to themselves, so be it. That's on those who refuse to be curious, just judgemental.
And I'l hit you with another Walt Whitman(ish) quote - I am what I am, and that is enough. If that means something to you, I love you, too. If you don't, don't worry about it. Still love ya and you'll get there, but only if that's what you want. But I highly, highly recommend to not judge and, maybe, just maybe, be a little curious. It could just make this really messed up world a better place in the end.
One more time.
Barbecue Sauce.
PS - Fuck the Mets.