This is the grave of John McSherry. Born in 1944 in New York City, McSherry became a Major League umpire in 1971, working the National League. He was very successful at the job. His first National Lea
As we approach the official passage of the forty-eight hour window, which typically connotes that I haven’t been dreaming, I at last consider myself up to the challenge of addressing the rough e
“Standing on the gallows with my head in the noose/ Any minute now I’m expecting all hell to break loose.”- Bob Dylan, “Things Have Changed” Look folks, I’m not a b
The Nationals open tonight’s World Series as the biggest underdog since 2007, when the Rockies were roundly crushed by the Red Sox. I feel moved to insult by this, but then what am I going to do
With the Nationals trailing the Dodgers 3-2 in the bottom of the 7th inning of Game 5 this past Wednesday night, I went to the bullpen, which is to say I broke out a Chelada. Many have suggested that
It’s one hour after the Nationals rallied from two runs down to beat the Brewers in the NL wild card game and I am the picture of calm. If you don’t believe me just look at the photo above
This is the grave of Frankie Frisch. Born in The Bronx in 1897, Frisch was a phenomenal athlete who played four sports at Fordham University: baseball, basketball, football, and track. Given the profe
Timothy Bracy, reporting from the Sports Desk of The Paranoid Style: Let me tell you how I typically watch the Nationals. I do not watch on TV, because I like my misery more mainlined and exquisite. I