Recently in Reader Appreciation Day Category

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In yet another stroke of self-aggrandizement, we editors of Walkoff Walk have asked our most devoted readers and commenters to contribute short essays about how much they love us. Some responded positively. Others, not so much. Today, we'll highlight some of the positive reflections. Next up is NJPANick, formerly known as Honeynut Ichiros and a true trashy Phillies fan from South Jersey:

"It's impossible to fully wrap one's head around all of the many reasons why Wezen-Ball is one of the most cherished sites in the baseball blogosphere. Wait. This is supposed to be about who? Walkoff Walk? Oh, um, ok. If you're a fan of recipes and babies in costumes and shitty hipster rock, BOY OH BOY is this a sad time for you, friendo. Walkoff Walk is the preeminent destination for lobster outfits and chicken roasting. And that's probably why I'm so sad that it's going away.

Like many of the long-timers around here, I found my way over thanks to a Deadspin link. It read something like "Rob Iracane and Camp Tiger Claw are starting a baseball blog. Go check it out while it lasts." So I came here mostly out of spite because Iracane never approved me for a Deadspin commenter account. "Go comment on that prick's blog," I thought. "Make tired Anchorman references and talk about your fantasy team. That'll show him." But then I got here, and it was so damn charming and funny, I wanted to bring it home and meet my mom. BUT JUST FOR COFFEE, no shenanigans.

So here's a quick listicle of what I'll miss about wow, in no particular order. Why a listicle? Because I'm lazy and hacky, much like the actual content on WoW! Plus, I can 'get away' with poor grammar and awful syntax! Much like the actual content on WoW!

  • Where else can we go to mock Dale Murphy's pudgy kid, and then get berated by a bunch of random yokels?
  • Without WoW, Graeme Lloyd's wave of Aussie terror will run unchecked.
  • I'll never get to be an on-the-scene reporter again, like I did during the 2008 WFC parade in Philly. (a special shout-out to AT&T's can-and-string network, which sent all of my communiques to Rob in one fell swoop).
  • How else will I pass the time on Wednesday Afternoons? 89 liveglogs were half-assed on this here site. That's at least 178 hours of lost productivity from our nation's corporations.
  • Who else would organize a meetup of internet commenters who chant for shellfish during the game's key moments?
  • I can guaran-damn-tee you that no sane blogger will ever give me the keys to the place again, much less sit and watch as I turn a playoff liveglog into a mid-90s hip-hop jam session. SOUL 4 REAL 4EVA
  • And CHIPPER. Oh CHIPPER. I'll miss you the most.

I owe a debt of gratitude to Rob and Kris (and every other schmoe who 'worked' here). You guys made this corner of the internet a warm, fuzzy place for baseball nerds who otherwise would have been trolling the boards at BleacherReport. And although we won't be able to come here every day and gab like housemarms, we've got Twitter and Tumblr to help bridge the gap, which will have to be good enough until someone buys the right to wowies.com and starts a nonsense blog just so we can talk about our kids and our cats."

Want to share your memories of Walkoff Walk? Leave a comment or drop us a line.

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In yet another stroke of self-aggrandizement, we editors of Walkoff Walk have asked our most devoted readers and commenters to contribute short essays about how much they love us. Some responded positively. Others, not so much. Today, we'll highlight some of the positive reflections. We now give you a real, live Nationals fan, an international star of stage and screen, Mr. Matt DeTura, aka MDT:

"What I should be writing here is a thank you note for the PR firm of Iracane and Liakos, LLP, who have done more for my career as an intermittent Internet famewhore than just about any other. I'm pretty sure the human condition they're referring to isn't my unchecked ego. Regardless! I have another personal story.

My baseball life has been marked by failure and cynicism. I grew up a Phillies fan, worshiping Wild Thing and Nails and Dutch and Krukker - only to get my young heart shattered in 1993 in Toronto. A messy divorce from the game followed as I concentrated on playing the game rather than following it while the players were on strike, but even that stopped in high school when I couldn't catch up to the fastball, let alone the curve. Every time I stepped onto the track to sprint, I envisioned I was going the most exciting 90 feet in sports: the steal of second base. (This irked my coach, who became livid when I'd drop into a figure-four slide one-third of the way through the 100 meter dash.)

I drifted further in college, embracing my other sporting loves: football, hockey, fighting. Even Durham Bulls games were a lark for me, a way to spend a few hours drinking someplace that wasn't a dorm room.

When I moved to DC in 2005 I was just about ready to love again, and for one magical summer it was just that as Your Washington Nationals packed the wobbly rafters of RFK Stadium and had an amazing July run. I kept score and drank stale beer and refined my sunflower spitting technique, and for the first time in a long time, the thrill was back.

Well, in spite of a nice new (if a bit antiseptic stadium), the beer goggles wore off. The Nats are, uh homely. And untalented. And unlucky. (At least they're not the cocktease the Phillies were, always getting justthisclose before finally I'd had enough and bam - WFC. My fan karma, there.) But in spite of it, they've gotten me into the ballpark on Opening Day the past three years, and every year now I get to celebrate that one little dawning bit of hope, that beautiful spring rebirth that makes every year just a little bit brighter.

Right up until every pitcher on the roster's elbow simultaneously explodes.

But it wasn't a new town or a new stadium or the occasional bobble-head night that got me really excited about baseball again. It was hanging out on Walkoff Walk with like-minded snarksters who'd rather watch shrimp run than scream about steroids or quibble over SABR-rattling. For Deadspin refugees like me, it was a safe place to repopulate our delightful sports-related idiocy, the neighborhood bar online for 364 days a year (and one annual, crazy one in Pennsylvania where I've gotten to put some faces to names and make a lot of great, lasting friends).

Blogging on the internet has become Balkanized in a lot of ways. People would rather talk about their team, or their player, or their tiny niche meme (ocelotswearingmonocles.tumblr.com) than just sit around and talk shop about the game itself. And by "talk shop" I mean "make fun of Chipper Jones". Knowing it was a labor of love for the Street Team (although I don't know, Liakos' ad revenues may exceed what's in his hobo bindle) made it all the better.

Walkoff Walk got me really excited about baseball season for the first time since I had baseball cards in the spokes of my bike tires, and I needed that for the long, cruel summer between Duke winning championships and Miami shitting the gridiron. Thanks guys, for that."

Want to share your memories of Walkoff Walk? Leave a comment or drop us a line.

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In yet another stroke of self-aggrandizement, we editors of Walkoff Walk have asked our most devoted readers and commenters to contribute short essays about how much they love us. Some responded positively. Others, not so much. Today, we'll highlight some of the positive reflections. Tigers fan and D.C.-area resident Jerkwheat is now up to bat:

"I want to feel sadness over the closing of WoW, but mostly I just feel rage and anger. This is primarily because Rob and Kris talked me into spending $1500 on a new designer liveglog blazer with assurances that it would be useful for "years to come". Now I see it was just a way for me to line the pocket's of Iracane's goomba mafiosa family and their "tailor" business.

Other than ridiculous blazer expenses, my fondest WoW memories are of the Heists. Meeting a large lot of you all, getting black out drunk with you, sharing buckets of chicken wings whilst singing Danzig - these are the memories we take with us, children. Catshirt appearing magically in a haze of dirt and PBR in Philly. Rob getting dealt with in Pittsburgh. The Commonwealth of Pennsylvania secretly ordering the shutdown of the website in exchange for the return of The Colonel to Missouri. Those are the moments I will cherish forever.

Also, Catshirt saying the 2008 Tigers will score 1100 runs. THIS WILL BE OUR YEAR."

Want to share your memories of Walkoff Walk? Leave a comment or drop us a line.

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In yet another stroke of self-aggrandizement, we editors of Walkoff Walk have asked our most devoted readers and commenters to contribute short essays about how much they love us. Some responded positively. Others, not so much. Today, we'll highlight some of the positive reflections. Right now we head out to the Pacific Northwest to hear from Seattle Mariners fan GorgeForeman, a real class act through and through:

"PROLOGUE: I have never figured out how CHIPPER happens, and I don't think I want to know. Just understand that I think whoever is responsible should win some sort of global award.

Like many WoW regulars, I followed Rob and Kris from Deadspin. In fact, the handle "GorgeForeman" came from me frantically trying to come up with something clever in order to make a guest comment (or whatever they were called back then) that I thought might impress Rob enough to give me a commenter account at DS (it worked--the commenter account part, not the clever part).

Walkoff Walk was definitely more my speed, anyway. I've always loved that this blog can be funny and snarky without resorting to out-and-out meanness. It speaks volumes about the tenor of WoW that so many guys and gals came over from another site, and continued to comment here for three years. Not to overstate things, but it's sort of a familial community at WoW. I'm one of the elder statesmen here, and even though I don't really know any of you, it's been quite a joy to experience big news about people getting engaged, getting married, starting new jobs, moving, having babies, etc. And I think that's why all of this feels so much like a funeral.

WoW has been a nice diversion for me over these three years, and I feel like it all but saved my life 15 months ago, when I was constantly traveling for work and at my end with a number of things. Almost nightly I would land in a new hotel in a new city or town, exhausted and missing my family terribly, but I'd fire up my laptop and have a blast following the games with everyone else on the postseason glogs. Viva wombat! Oh, and my all-time favorite glog was the one when all youse guys presented me with a graduate-level course on the Jersey Shore (this was prior to "Jersey Shore"). Fascinating!

You commenters really are fantastic. You are funny and smart, and you have taught me so much about music, baking, and recreational drug use. Surprisingly little about baseball, though.

So to Rob and Kris--and to everyone who has made this thing go, including Dan, Drew, and "310toJoba"--thanks for the fun. In no one else's honor will I ever again construct a crude, musical slideshow featuring Roger Mudd.

Bon Voyage,
David R.

PS I still hate Darren. And Carlos Silva."

Want to share your memories of Walkoff Walk? Leave a comment or drop us a line.

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In yet another stroke of self-aggrandizement, we editors of Walkoff Walk have asked our most devoted readers and commenters to contribute short essays about how much they love us. Some responded positively. Others, not so much. Today, we'll highlight some of the positive reflections. Here is our resident San Francisco Giants fan, commenter Phillas, whose history at Walkoff Walk is so intertwined with his West Coast compatriot Farthammer:

"I don't know how many other idiots commenters were asked to write something for this post, so I'll keep mine short. Thank you fine men for three years of good writing. Going through 3,298.2 postings at the WoW Archive Warehouse and trying to find my particular favorites wasn't working for me. I would just want to link to the articles in which I was featured anyways.

What brought me to the site was the wit of Rob and Kris. What kept me coming back was that the site didn't focus on one team or one facet of baseball, but consisted of articles that appealed to a fan of the game. The posts were a collection of intelligence, humor, and cleverness, without being shrill or hackneyed. I won't create a listicle of all the great features, but I will say I enjoyed the liveglogs (Tuffy should get a shout out for his exceptional work). From them I added 'whoopsiedoodle' to my vocabulary. The "Creampuff," "Tweet in Baseball," and "Classic TV Friday" should have been compulsatory reading/viewing.

The site also afforded me the chance to meet the other West Coast WoWie, Farthammer. How many people get to say that? Lastly, what I took from WoW, literally, was the gif for the Wil Cordero Memorial Linkpunch.

So thanks to Kris, Drew, J, Dan, and Rob for all their smart/fun/horseshit postings over the last three years. If you are ever in San Francisco (WS Champs), there will always be watermelon waiting for your beer."

Want to share your memories of Walkoff Walk? Leave a comment or drop us a line.

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In yet another stroke of self-aggrandizement, we editors of Walkoff Walk have asked our most devoted readers and commenters to contribute short essays about how much they love us. Some responded positively. Others, not so much. Today, we'll highlight some of the positive reflections. Here is star commenter Farthammer, the only Oakland A's fan anyone knows, with his memories:

"I totally don't remember how I heard about WoW - I assume it was back when I still read Deadspin regularly. Maybe when Rob left there, he linked to WoW? Maybe I was searching for Whacking off Whitepeople photos on Google, as I was wont to do back then in my spare time. Regardless, I found it. I then discovered that it was about my favorite sport, and THEN I discovered that just like at ESPN, there was a large East-Coast Bias. I had to rectify that by talking about the A's. Nobody really cared for a while.

Then I dropped Cakies on you motherfuckers. Yeah, you cared now about me and my A's, didn't you? Fucking yellow cake mix cookies and shit all up in your company. Christ, NJPANick has huge hands. Like Andre the Giant...or a Facehugger from Alien.

A few moments really stand out when I reminisce while listening to PM Dawn: (Look these stories up in the archives for smiles and possible boners)

The first is when phillas crashed my wedding. Yeah, THAT happened. I had jokingly told him when and where it was in the weeks leading up to it in the comments section, but kinda forgot about it. But he actually showed up and it was hilarious.

I also got tasked by Rob to attend an Olde-Timey game in San Jose with phillas. We drank beer in the parking lot and then reported on the game. I think some people from the actual game popped up in the comments section and corrected my mistakes.

And how could I forget meeting Rob in person? He and his fiancee and some friends (that other chick totally wanted to bone, too. phillas knows what I'm talking about1). We drank good beer, saw a Giants game in about 45 minutes (I think there were 3 hits total), then drank watermelon beer and IPA in a can.

Finally, there were thousands of small moments that I look at fondly. Liveglogs. That picture I sent of Josh Hamilton wearing the Ron Washington shirt that got put on the website. Creampuff posts. Shrimp.

On the real, though - this website brought a bunch of random, anonymous people together in a really cool way. I consider a lot of these people I never even met to be friends. That might sound weird, but it's true - think about how many countless hours we have spent making each other laugh. I would bet a lot of you spent more time talking with us than your coworkers. Which is good, because Pam in HR is kind of a bitch, and Tom in Marketing is probably gunning for your job.

I hope someone starts up another blog so I can keep in touch with you all. And I hope someone reminds me of what your already-existing blogs are called, because I forget.

1chick did not actually want to bone."

Want to share your memories of Walkoff Walk? Leave a comment or drop us a line.

January 2011: Monthly Archives