I am walking down Vesey Street, or what would have been Vesey Street, had there not been the constant construction, Fernet Menta on my tongue, and the glimmering remains of sunlight on the horizon ahead.

I am meeting people I have only known over email, and I am learning so damn much.

I am responding to an email about a friend who ripped me off, to an acquaintance who is concerned about the well-being of said “friend”. I assure the acquaintance that given a pocket-dialed voicemail weeks prior, the “friend” is likely still drawing breath.

I am at The Dead Rabbit, constantly. Always on Fridays.

I am switching my phone between arms, extending it back into a scrum, hoping to catch something resembling a quote from the front office of a team that hasn’t yet hired a player.

I am at dinner, talking about authenticity, and marketing, and college over spicy tripe and pici carbonara. I am right about the lemon bars, but that’s less about me and more about the lemon bars.

I am in a locker room, getting pushed in the back by a cameraman who is grumbling loudly about not being able to get a shot. I was here first. I relinquish my spot so that he’ll stop whining. I am not thanked.

I am throwing up just a little in my mouth. I am regaining my composure.

I am perpetually on the phone: solving problems, comforting, joking, advising, and trying my damnedest to get things done without losing my composure.

I am trying to perfect my marinara recipe. It’s not bad, it just could be better.

I am coming up to the surface from below; the last vestiges of the sunlight is gone.

I am explaining a joke that involved someone in Portland (Oregon) casually soliciting me for an illegal drug. The person I am explaining the joke to, who was rather aggrieved that I would make such a joke in the first place, responds “Ha, fair enough. What part of town? I’m more surprised it was meth, not heroin.”

I am asking for feedback but getting very little. It is okay. I am used to this.

I am breaking news and getting name dropped, which is quite a change from a year ago.

I am playing games: Infamous Second Son and Diablo 3: Reaper of Souls and Luftrausers and Goat Simulator and South Park Stick Of Truth and Zoo Keeper Versus. They are all enjoyable in their own ways.

I am tired of the cold, and tired of telling people I’m tired of the cold.

I am standing at a soccer-related party, with Katie and my friend Dave. The team comes out. Katie shouts “THIERRY!” as Thierry Henry walks by us. He looks over, and smiles. She puts her hand up. He high fives her emphatically. All I can think: wait, did that just happen?

I am inserting myself in someone else’s drama. I know this is never a good idea.

I am at a bar I haven’t been to in six years drinking alone. People I see frequently/occasionally/never show up. We share that smile of friends that don’t intersect as much as we promised we would.

I am eating at a restaurant I haven’t been to in eight years. It has lost whatever limited character it had.

I am wondering when I became so numb to the rich variety of my life that I started believing that very little happens during my average month.


Games of 2013: FIFA 14

I’ve spent a lot of time in 2013 playing games, but not a lot of time writing about them. As I have been doing in recent history, I’d like to tell some stories or share some thoughts about the ones that meant the most to me this year. I’ll be posting about one a day until Christmas. See all Games of 2013 posts.


It’s sort of an annual tradition at this point that I’m posting something about FIFA during this series of posts. It’s hard to not – FIFA is, for better or worse, the only series that marries my two major hobbies into some sort of weird parallel world.

It’s where I spent something like 250 games (admittedly in FIFA 13) constantly battling against DCist soccer editor Pablo Maurer, finding every interesting permutation and rivalry we could manage to fight through season after season of online friendlies.

It’s where I found myself at the FIFA 14 launch party, focusing on the game instead of numerous hired dancers in MLS jerseys that were strangely dancing with towels. It’s the moment where Tim Cahill (yes, that Tim Cahill) came over and gave the group of local RBNY reports some handshakes and remarked how he was worried about his marquee match against Drake (yes, that Drake) because he had been practicing on the PS3 and the event only had Xboxes. Just ponder that for a second: one of the most famous footballers from Australia is worried about being able to adapt to a different controller. (P.S.: Cahill won.)

It’s where I finally found my way into Believe FC, the NeoGAF virtual club, where fine European gents nicknamed Cola and Quiche and Bacon (not sure why they’re all food) battle tirelessly for cups and promotion. It’s so riotously fun, that even when a 5-2 lead turns into a 7-6 loss and the entire group practically ragequits, everyone’s still back at it the next day having another go.

EA Sports FIFA is a gaming institution. And while 14 suffers from spanning a console generation (last-gen feels about the same as 13, next-gen is rough around the edges), it’s still required playing for anyone who likes sports and video games.

FIFA 14 is available on the PS4, Xbox One, PS3, Xbox 360, and PC.


Open Wide For Some Sideblogging

Many months ago, some friend of mine in DC – Pablo, Seth, and Thomas – decided to start recording a DC United podcast. Named after a famous Simpsons bit, Open Wide For Some Soccer was born.

DC United’s season went to absolute shit, setting records for futility. Being the type who is always there to pile on with numbers, a segment developed entitled “Sad Stats”, where DC’s record was put in context with sad music playing in the background. I loved this segment so much that I started compiling Sad Stats, and making multiple appearances as the “official Sadistician”.

With the offseason starting, there was a general decision that maybe the OWFSS needed to dominate more media, so now there is a Tumblr.

We do Power Rankings for the league’s narratives.

We made fun of a Forbes article – and every team in the league.

We made fun of the league’s awards.

We give out an award for weekly excellence, named after an obscure Chinese player.

And so on. So if you’re looking for more wit from me, head on over there.