(featuring Ernest Hemingway)
Before you read, make sure you check out Part 1 of the Pickleball saga: http://www.coastalpoint.com/content/pickle-overtime-so-uh-i-guess-i-play...
The assignment was to take the court. There were four of us. Five, if you count The Baron, but he had lost his spot when the reveille call went off, and couldn’t fight as well as he could when I had first met him. And he was young and brave, and the court was dry, despite the rain. And it sloped down toward a road, and there were many curious drivers on the road. And the idea was to aim for the center line, and if our aim was true, we could beat them.
(Fine, I'll do it)
After watching Blake Lively get just absolutely Amity-Island-style terrorized by a Gigantic White Shark (GWS) in the movie “The Shallows” for roughly 1 hour, 27 minutes, one of two things can be assumed:
(that time I learned to SUP)
The Beginning of the not-so-existential The End came when my friend The Mantis sent me an SMS text message last Thursday.
(Probably not, no, but still…)
It’s fairly hanging low fruit… or figs… or whatever it is that they eat over in England (not sure… basing all knowledge of the U.K. off Austin Powers), to say that London Bridge is falling down.
Not to be confused with “Tripple Overtime Takeover,” in which Indian River High School head soccer coach Steve Kilby often enjoys questioning Tripp’s abilities as an actor while at the same time masterfully clearing up weeks’ worth of discrepancies regarding Patriots’ QB Tom Brady and HC Bill Belichick — in “Reverse Tripple Overtime,” Tripp debates controversial topics from the sports world and world at large with his reverse-self, Ppirt (one of the P’s being silent… not sure which). Why he does this instead of just, like, talking to a real human being about it, or, you know, just not doing it all, like a normal person, we are not sure.
I had been putting it off for, let’s say, like, exactly a year or so, give or take.
Revenge is a dish best served… Well, that’s it, really. Revenge is a dish best served, regardless of what I can only assume would be its metaphorical temperature (hot, cold, etc. — never really understood the idiom and its apparent ties to Quiznos sandwich chefs, if I’m being honest).
Thanks to El Niño, even though it’s pretty much Memorial Day — which is pretty much the unofficial start to summer, more or less — it hasn’t felt like spring until pretty much right now.
“I haven’t seen the sun in so long that I can hardly remember what it looks like anymore…” would be a grossly exaggerated statement and, also completely inaccurate, if I were to make it.
I didn’t know what I was getting myself into last Tuesday. Literally. In fact, even while I was getting myself into it, someone said: “Hey Tripp, what did you get yourself into?” And I said: “I don’t know.”
Everything was going pretty good last Friday.
Triple Overtime: If missing out on sports moments and not knowing acronyms is cool, then call me Miles Davis
All the cool kids have been saying it for a while, which is why it’s so surprising that I’m just learning about it now.
You play ball like a girl.
Aside from “You know, if my dog was as ugly as you, I’d shave his butt and tell him to walk backwards,” and “You’re killing me Smalls!,” it’s probably the most memorable line from the 1993 cinematic classic, “The Sandlot.”
Top five IR sports moments of winter 2016
While most non-cave-dwellers have already sprung forward, this week in “Tripple OT” we’re wintertime rewinding instead — which is definitely not because we forgot about the whole setting the clocks back thing until very early Sunday/very late Saturday, depending on how you look at it, and more so because a lot of noteworthy stuff happened this winter and spring sports are practically in full swing now.
He missed out on one for “Gilbert Grape” in 1994, and it’s been eating at him ever since. But last Sunday night, some 22 years later, and at the revenant-ripe age of 41, Leonardo DiCaprio has finally won an Oscar for Best Actor.
(It’s Black History Month)
After last week’s “Tripple Overtime Takeover,” where Coach Kilby laid into me like a comedian into Justin Bieber during a Comedy Central roast, I vowed to never again slander his beloved New England Patriots, a model NFL franchise, or his beloved Tom Brady, a model NFL… model, or his beloved Bill Billichick — who, considering his keen fashion sense and always animated demeanor, should really consider modeling.
[Disclaimer: The following “Tripple Overtime Takeover” was written by Indian River High School soccer coach Steve Kilby, in response the continued ridicule of his beloved Patriots’ Tom Brady and Bill Bellichick in “Tripple Overtime.” Aside from the jokes about Chris Clark, it is all written in jest… We think...]
There’s a lot we know about the past presidents of the United States (of America). Abraham Lincoln could never tell a lie. George Washington had wooden teeth and, from far away, he kind of looked like an old lady in that powdered wig he was always wearing. And even after being elected, twice, George W. Bush is still a huge disappointment to his father.
Tripple Overtime: If beaver trapping is a sport (and/or cool), then Leonardo DiCaprio is Miles Davis (‘The Revenant’ review)
If you’re being rational, then you can agree that I am just as good an actor as Leonardo DiCaprio. Not only because we’re both renowned for our boyish good looks, and certainly not only because we both always shout “I’m the king of the world!” whenever we get on a boat with Kate Winslet, but mostly because we have the same number of Oscar wins (approximately zero, to be exact).
If you’re like me, you spent this past weekend stuck snowed in watching “The Shining” in Baltimore, worried about who was gonna snap first should the beer run out before the roads got plowed.
It was just before Christmas, and I remember it exactly, because it was very strange. I had just completed the week’s “Tripple Overtime,” expressing my recently renewed holiday spirit (even though it was still somewhat lacking), and was leaving the Coastal Point headquarters in Ocean View when I discovered something — it was some kind of box, and it was resting upon the hood of my car.
(now with footnotes!)1
OK, so technically January is actually “National Stalking Awareness Month,” but I refuse to acknowledge it2. It turns out that there is no nationally recognized month for Ray Lewis awareness prevention yet3, but I think we can all agree that perhaps there should be.
If you’re reading this column, it’s probably too late. Also, you might want to get a CAT scan.
It’s almost as hard to believe as Tom Brady in a statement issued by his publicist. This Thursday marks the official end to the 2015 sports year, as we get ready to say goodbye to the Year of the Ram and usher in the Year of the… Monkey on the Chinese zodiac.
It seems like only yesterday that we were saying goodbye to 2014, which can only mean one thing: I’m getting old. And if I’m getting old, that means Point photographer and zip-off-pants enthusiast Chris Clark is getting ancient. In fact, he should be headed for the home any day now, which would leave me without a photographer unless I can manage to teach one of those Chinese monkeys how to use a camera by then (I mean if Chris Clark can do it…).
But while the Chinese zodiac hasn’t done many favors for the St. Louis Rams in a year wielding their name, it certainly held its fair share of excitement for the Indian River Indians and the entire Sussex County sports scene from start to finish.
Even with all the lights and the Bill Murray Netflix specials and Bethany’s new “Tree of Warmth,” I’ve been Ebenezer Scrooge’ing pretty hard so far this Christmas season. Not really so much to the point where I’m hoarding wealth created by deliberately exploiting the poor, but at least to the point where I’m too busy with work to get my picture taken with Santa and don’t find “A Very Murray Christmas” very funny and get annoyed that apparently you can’t call a Christmas tree a Christmas tree anymore (bah, humbug).
It really is a wonder that the Indian River High School swim team is winning South titles year in and year out, considering that, really, they don’t even have a pool, and that, really, being a school near the ocean, you’d figure swimming would be a sport that got a little more love.
Tripple Overtime: An apology to Kobe Bryant from a journalist (one that did not ridicule him into retirement)
We all know those journalist types, with all of their pushy questions and all of their twisting words and their Twitter accounts with all of their borderline funny comments. They’re really just the worst, right?
The Indian River High School soccer team capped the 2015 fall sports season the right way on Saturday, with their 1-0 state championship win over Caravel and so much excitement that now it all just seems like one long (but awesome) blur of green and gold, and red and blue from the police and fire truck sirens and, of course, white from the student section covering the Smyrna stands in baby powder by tossing it up in the air like Lebron to celebrate Oscar Cruz’s goal and, eventually, the title.
Tripple Overtime: Kardblock: Only the Redcoats can save us from the Kardashians this app development season
I was standing in the check-out line at Giant last week when I noticed a magazine cover with one of the most disconcerting tag lines that I had ever read: “My Own Story: Khloe Kardashian Breaks Her Silence.”
With time winding down and everything on the line, more often than not the game doesn’t come down to the star quarterback or the 1,000-yard rusher or even that gargantuan nose tackle that sometimes finds his way into goal-line packages like Mike Ditka and the Bears used to do with William “The Fridge” Perry.