Disappointed with the food selection inside the Q? Well, Cleveland's own star chef is making some improvements. Michael Symon is leading two new joints inside the arena, both basically smaller versions of his other restaurants, for those basketball fans looking for something better tha a hot dog to scarf down on. Food fit for a king, and the fans.
The Cleveland-based Iron Chef is putting the finishing touches on two new eateries located inside Quicken Loans Arena. Essentially scaled-down versions of Bar Symon and the soon-to-open B Spot, the casual outposts are expected to be open well in advance of the Cavs’ home opener.
‘These places don’t look like your typical walk-up spaces,” Symon told me. “They created these really cool open-air mini restaurants. The mini Bar Symon looks just like a smaller version of Bar Symon.”
The restaurants will also feature scaled back adaptations of the menus to ensure quality and consistency, adds Symon. B Spot will serve four burgers, bratwurst and fries. Bar Symon will offer seasoned popcorn, chips and cheese fondue, grilled sausages and his now-famous Barberton-style fried chicken. There will be no servers; diners will place their orders at a window and eat at tables.
Seriously, is there any talk show LeBron hasn't appeared on in the last two weeks? Here's a clip from The King and Charlie Rose where LeBron talks about his dream team.
And now, in Part II of the great Indians name listing experiment, it's time to tackle the great nicknames of the club. Now, some clarification. While "Pronk" may or may not be a great nickname, I tried to go by nicknames that stuck to the point of either a) Always using it when referring to a player, or b) Supplanting the player's real name altogether. This is a troublesome brightline, not just because I couldn't possibly go through every player to ever be on the Tribe's roster and determine whether they met my guidelines or not, but also because it's even hard to tell when a nickname meets either one of the aforementioned metrics. So, don't get all up on me because I forgot someone or included one you don't like. Onwards!
Big Bill james
Blue Moon Odom
Toothpick Sam Jones
Sad Sam Jones
Sudden Sam McDowell
Shoeless Joe Jackson
Baby Doll Jacobson
There isn't much left to say about this current group of Indians, but browsing through the historical roster for one reason or another the other day, I started chuckling at a couple of names. One thing led to another and suddenly I was scribbling down my favorites. They're presented here to you in no particular order or context, and also free of all my "jokes," which should make things easier and more pleasurable for everyone. Onwards!
Antonio Llamas Perezchica
Osceola Guy Lacy
Millard Fillmore "Dixie" Howell
Dan Rydell: Eli's Coming.— from an episode of Sports Night
Casey McCall: Eli?
Dan Rydell: From the Three Dog Night song.
Casey McCall: Yes?
Dan Rydell: Eli is something bad, a darkness.
Casey McCall: "Eli's coming. Hide your heart, girl." Eli is a inveterate womanizer. I think you're getting the song wrong.
Dan Rydell: I know I'm getting the song wrong. But, when I first heard it, that's what I thought it meant. Things stick with you that way.
High winds knocked out the power in Independence yesterday, significant mainly because the lights went out in the middle of Cavs media day at the Cleveland Clinic Courts. While this made a convenient and quirky lede for some media members filing their stories, and others joked about the blackout via Twitter, remarking something to the effect of, "How about that for foreshadowing," it's hard for me to not look at the outage as something more.
While it's completely rational to brush the apparent coincidence aside — relegating it to modifier in a phrase or descriptor of the event's milieu — this is Cleveland sports we're talking about, and we're trained to immediately look for any phenomenon that portends failure. A blackout is never just a blackout.
Consider not just that nature's fury — albeit comparatively tame in the grand scheme of destructive natural disasters — struck on the first official day of the season, but that it was also on Yom Kippur. Now, I'm not only not specifically Jewish, I'm also not generally a religious person in any way; but even I, an agnostic, could tell you that holding media day on Yom Kippur couldn't be a great idea.
In case you didn't know, here's the description from Wikipedia (the most trusted source for non-Jewish journalists looking for facts about Judaism): "Yom Kippur, also known as the Day of Atonement, is the holiest day of the year for religious Jews. Its central themes are atonement and repentance. Jews traditionally observe this holy day with a 25-hour period of fasting and intensive prayer, often spending most of the day in synagogue services."
A power outage caused by a storm on the first day of the season, which happens to also be Yom Kippur? Mojo, juju, karma, luck — call it what you will, just put the word Bad in front of it. The Cavs are basically betting the house that the Jews are wrong. If they are doing so because they believe that LeBron isn't just like a god, but God himself, they should know that was all just an ad campaign.
Doesn't matter how much or how little you believe in either side of the argument, I'm just saying that with the stakes for this season as high as they are, it's a bet I wouldn't be willing to make. There is no god I would chance upsetting at this point, not with the Indians festering in a shallow grave and Browns about 18-feet beneath that. You think I'm kidding? I'm re-watching Major League just to find out how not to piss off Jobu. Seriously, anybody have a chicken or a bucket of KFC?
— Speaking of KFC, Delonte was asked whether he had any KFC endorsements coming in the future thanks to his viral freestyling video.
"Oh, you saw that too?" he said to the reporter.
It's as if he thought a dozen people in the whole wide world were the total audience for his "Hot sauce in my bag" riffs.
— When the lights went out I was waiting for a disco ball to be dropped from the ceiling and Boyz II Men to blare from the speakers (I was calling dibs on first dance with Windhorst). The media mulled around. One guy got rookie Danny Green to read a radio promo using a cell phone as a light. One radio station powered its setup with a generator set up in the parking lot. There were voluminous amounts of Browns blackout jokes, although few of them were funny. I saw a stray recorder left on a table where Leon Powe had been fielding questions and thought about leaving my version of "Hot sauce in my baaaag" on it for some lucky, unknown media member.
And then, Shaq was coming. The cavalcade hustled to the workout room, which, blessed with ample natural lighting and workout equipment, would prove a suitable and hilarious location for interviews. Triple or double the throng that was present for Delonte and you'd get the idea of how many people crowded around Shaq — even more than for LeBron, I think.
As I watched grown men and women climb on workout benches, duck their heads under bars tied to weights (I'm real scientific when it comes to gym knowledge), the season was immediately summed up in that visual. Mo was sitting on a ledge with a bunch of other players taking in the scene and a reporter asked him again what he thought. "I could do a whole year of no one asking me questions," he happily responded.
— The attention isn't going anywhere. This is either going to be the most wildly celebrated Cleveland team in recent memory or a devastating and unmitigated failure that drives an entire population to sell the city for busfare to the I-480 bridge. And either way, this is going to be a hyper-intense public spectacle.
Off to media day, which is going to be a circus, so no more posts this afternoon.
Check @vincethepolack on Twitter for updates. Tonight I'll post a review and some pics, and if some players cooperate, some video.
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