The answer, really, is never.
No one wants to see your guns. No one wants to see your tribal tats. Or how well you fill out the jersey. You're not playing in a pickup game. You're not going to impress anyone with your biceps. And if you're not in shape? No one wants to see your arm fat folded over the fabric, or how the jersey accentuates your stomach.
And I'm not just saying this because as a kid in CYO I wore an undershirt to hide my toothpick arms. And I'm not saying this because I look absolutely ridiculous in a jersey these days thanks to my gut. It's just not a good look, especially when you raise your arms in triumph over a LeBron dunk and your neighbor is subjected to whatever romantic smells emanate from your pits.
However, there might be one exception, as I discovered the night the Cavs took on the Suns at the Q. This guy was sitting in the row ahead of me, and he was sporting some serious Cleveland sports ink on his arm: Cavs, Browns, Indians, and even the Buckeyes were all represented.
So, I guess there is one exception to the "No jersey without an undershirt" rule: If you have your team's logo, or something having to do with your team tatted on your arm, then you're allowed to proudly rock it. Just either keep your arms down.
I was over at Cleveland Frowns' house about a week ago and was thrilled when he served a cold beverage in this exact glass. Classic logo on a rocks glass? Where do I sign up? He had a whole set, which basically means he never has to own another rocks glass in his life. Unfortunately, this eBay auction is for a single glass, not four or six. Still worth it, considering it's only going for $0.99 right now.
Waiting for Next Year breaks down some important Cleveland sports issues with graphs. Look! Color! Shapes! (Very much worth a look.)
"If Jeezy's paying LeBron, I'm paying Dwyane Wade."
That line from Hova's "Empire State of Mind" is misheard and misunderstood all the time. "The Really Big Show" tackled the question of what the line means a few weeks ago, brushing aside one theory that it was about cocaine pricing in favor of an incorrect explanation that said Jeezy owns part of some NBA team, and that Jay-Z would sign Dwyane Wade if Jeezy's team signed LeBron.
In Young Jeezy's song "24-23 (Kobe-Lebron)," Jeezy uses the players' jersey numbers to articulate the price he's paying of a kilogram of cocaine.
The chorus of that song goes, "I used to pay Kobe , but now I pay LeBron ." This means that he used to pay $24,000 for a kilo of coke, whereas now? He only pays $23,000, you see.
So. In "Empire," Jay-Z takes this one step further, so as to show his impressive status in New York. He suggests that, while Jeezy may be paying $23,000, Jay-Z is paying a mere $3000 (expressed as Dwyane Wade's jersey number) for a kilo of cocaine.
Jeezy will naturally have to respond. Maybe something like:
"If Jay-Z payin' Dwyane Wade, I'm payin' Darnell Jackson ."
But then everyone would be confused because no one knows who Darnell Jackson is, and that doesn't make for good rap songs.
Oh, Hector. Ye hero of the Crunch faithful. I think the first sporting event I ever went to in person was a Cleveland Force game. Since then I've always had a soft spot for indoor soccer in the Forest City (I don't collect much, but I do have two Cleveland Force media guides and a dope Cleveland Force t-shirt), which is why this jersey caught my eye. No, not because it's game-worn. Who really cares about that? No, it's because it's rare you see this color jersey (most remember just the purple get-ups), with the Revco brand on the front (remember them?), and, well, because Marinaro was the shit.
All it really took was the ring on Cleveland State basketball coach Gary Waters’ hand. Norris Cole, a senior at Dunbar High School at the time, heard the coach’s words when he visited Cole and his family in East Dayton in 2006, but the ring spoke louder. It silently told the story of Waters’ success at Kent State, where he’d led the Flashes to two MAC championships and two NCAA tournament berths — including the shocking 2001 upset of No. 4 seed Indiana.
Sure, the CSU Vikings were in the midst of a season in which the team went 10-21, but Gary Waters had a reputation for reshaping programs.
That ring, that flashy memento of accomplishment, promised, “I’ve done this before and will again.”
Three years later, Cole remembers that day well. “I was wearing my [high school] state championship ring, and he was wearing his ring.”
And you wanted one too.
“Well, yeah. But not just one. More.”