Liveblog the World Cup for Deadspin: We have much to learn about the sport, its supporters, its stars and, sometimes, even its rules. We freely admit this. But still come on. Its the World Cup. We do not understand how such an event can possibly be overcovered. Its the World Cup. Its Togo, people . Togo!
Memorial Day Weekend was many things, but perhaps most of all it was an unexpected food odyssey from Cape Cod to the East End. The rundown:
Thursday: Marshall arrives with
scones an unexpectedly delicious pastry treat, followed by dinner, Oatsie1 veggie lasagna.
Friday: An unreal lobster roll from the Seafood Shanty near the Cape Cod bridge. (Moments later, we found ourselves behind Dens‘ mom’s car, Big Red. Surely a sign. Of something.) Early dinner atoh hell yesAl Forno, still serving unduplicated perfection, night after night. Besides the grilled pizza (of course), the baked pasta (above) was perfection.
Saturday: (Crappy junk food around Providence.)
Sunday: Awake to the first burger of the season (above) Bonus: fresh arugula salad with lemon. Dinner offered the first Nina Salad of the season at World Pie.
Monday: Brunch at New Paradise Café in Sag Harbor. Dinner, back in Manhattan, dining alone and outside at Supper as the sun set. Great weekend.
Spent last night at Shrum-a-Lot on Cape Cod with Josh, Marshall, MOP, and copious white wine. Good times. Tonight: 10-year Brown reunion.
This morning, Marshall is telling us about his new project: orienteering. “1st time — didn’t understand the rules and got disqualified. 2nd time — not just last… quite far from first.”
High comedy reaches new heights. (Also, Gawker blog comment record?)
Well, that’s one way to spin it. NYPost: Gary Sheffield returned from the DL and went 0-for-3 with two walks and scored a run. He took violent swings against Jonathan Papelbon in the ninth and didn’t feel any discomfort with his left wrist. (That strikeout? Total sickness. As was Papelbon’s entire ninth.)
Eliot Shepard: Im researching a story on World Cup fans in NYC. Im specifically looking for places where fans of underdog soccer countries will be gathering to watch their matches.
Mobile call from Mom: “I’m in the front row of the EMC Club!” Hotness. 7-1 Sox in the seventh.
Until yesterday I enjoyed behaving this way, too.
The crazy thing about this is that no one at Gawker had anything to do with it. (Bonus: horrifying font!)