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Showing content with the highest reputation on 12/24/2009 in all sections

  1. 4 points
    I post this every year. Rick Reilly wrote it and it first appeared in SI a number of years ago. Enjoy: ____________ This story starts the day in 1918 when a doctor tells a slender heavyweight named Billy Miske that his bum kidneys give him five years to live, if he's lucky. Turns out he's dying of Bright's disease. This comes as rotten news to Billy, who's only 24 years old and not half bad in the ring. He's good enough to fight guys like future light heavyweight champ Harry Greb twice to 10-round draws, which is sort of like tying with a twister. Still, the doc says if Billy's smart, he'll find a comfortable couch and retire right now. Problem is, almost nobody but Billy knows he's up to his ears in debt, being $100,000 in the hole because the car distributorship he operates in St. Paul doesn't distribute near enough cars. Billy's weakness as a salesman is that he's too trusting. He keeps counting on his friends to pay up, and mostly they don't. So Billy keeps the kidney news to himself and decides to continue fighting and paying what he owes. In fact, Billy fights 30 more times after the doc's death sentence, including bust-ups with guys like Tommy Gibbons, who was knocked out only one time in his career, and three dances with Jack Dempsey, once for the title in 1920. Dempsey hits people only slightly harder than a bus, and in that title bout he belts Billy once so flush in the heart that Billy goes down for a nine count. In those nine seconds a purple welt the size of a baseball pops up on Billy's chest, scaring Dempsey half to death. But then Billy himself pops up, wanting more. Dempsey knocks him clean out less than a minute later, this time with an anvil to the jaw, as Dempsey is trying to get the fight over before one of them faints, maybe Dempsey. "I was afraid I'd killed him," Dempsey says afterward, but Billy's kidneys are doing a good job of that all by themselves. By the fall of 1923, Billy is dying fast. He looks like a broomstick on a diet. He's too weak to work out, much less prizefight. The only thing thinner than Billy's arms is his wallet. He hasn't had a bout since January, which is trouble, because Christmas is coming up hard. Well, Billy isn't about to face his wife, Marie, and their three young kids, Billy Jr., Douglas and Donna, tapped out for his last Christmas, so he goes to his longtime manager, Jack Reddy, and asks him for one last fight. Reddy says no chance. "I don't like to say this," Reddy tells him, "but if you went in the ring now, in your condition, you might get killed." "What's the difference?" Billy answers. "It's better than waiting for it in a rocking chair." Reddy chews on that for a while and comes up with a proposition: "Do one thing for me. Go to the gym, start working out, and let's see if you can get into some kind of condition. Then we'll talk." Billy says no can do. He says there's no way he can work out. He says he's got one last fight in him, and maybe not even that. A softie, Reddy arranges a Nov. 7 bout in Omaha against a brawler named Bill Brennan, who went 12 rounds with Dempsey and is still meaner than 10 miles in brand-new shoes. True to his word, Billy doesn't get any nearer the gym than his aspirin bottle. He stays in hiding, slurping bowls of chicken soup and boiled fish, and rarely making it out of bed. But he turns up in Omaha on the appointed night, survives four rounds with Brennan and cashes a check for $2,400. That check buys the best Christmas the Miskes ever have. The kids come flying downstairs in the morning to a Christmas tree, a toy train, a baby-grand piano and presents stacked higher than they can reach. They eat like Rockefellers and sing like angels and laugh all day. Do you know, the only smile bigger in Minneapolis that day than the ones on the faces of those three Miske kids is on Billy's mug. The next morning Billy calls Reddy and whispers, "Come and get me, Jack. I'm dying." Reddy rushes Billy to St. Mary's Hospital, but the doctors can't do a thing. On New Year's Day 1924, Billy, 29, dies of kidney failure. That's it, really. Except that if you ever pass through Omaha and run into an old-timer, ask him about the prizefight that day, the one that gave Billy Miske the finish he wanted, the one he won in four rounds, over Bill Brennan, by a knockout.
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  4. 2 points
    just clear your history, thats the only way i can sign out.
  5. 2 points
    true. i think men and women, shit even children from that era weren't playing. we are all soft as shit today. well, most of us...myself included.
  6. 2 points
    this thead got the flicks that make ya say.... Damn....
  7. 2 points
    Wrong section of the board before, Kromie. You walked into the Frat House on a Friday night with a 6 pack of O' Doul's.
  8. 1 point
    living in the future. everything from the surf/garage/psych thread - http://www.12ozprophet.com/forum/showthread.php?t=133089 will still be hooked on the new AIR album - do the joy http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xjvI7nq5tKc&feature=related sleigh bells - ring ring http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9q77Zu75JtY toro y moi - blessa kinda getting into this old cat Scott Walker - the old man's back again radiohead goes into the studio in january. random blog of confirmed and potential new releases.
  9. 1 point
    http://www.noradsanta.org/ follow the jolly fat man to your hood merry xmas fuckers
  10. 1 point
    I remember it used to be expensive as shit to own a NES at the start so i was always super stoked that my dad was manager at a video store. he could take home the rental system anytime for free along with any games I wanted.
  11. 1 point
    1. Stick by my resolutions. 2. Cut down on cigarettes. 3. Cut down on drinking
  12. 1 point
    reminds me of the day a dog stole my safeway sandwhich out of the car at work.
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  16. 1 point
    odyssey twisted pc.
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    Little known that it wasn't roid rage. Dude had sever brain trauma due to all the flying head buts. Test died and had the same sort of symptoms show up during autopsy. As for this list busines, Met Daniel Dennet at a lecture (for those that care). Met Bob Bacher when I was a kid (wonk sdren). Once saw Batista (professional wrestler) on the same shuttle to the airport I was on. Danny Glover comes into our store occasionaly, have yet to meet him. Met Billy Gibbons once at a restaurant my dad was workin at. My dad drank with Jeff Bridges at a bar in houston while he was preparing for the role of the Dude. I like to think there is a little bit of my dad in that character. I guess that's it.
  24. 1 point
    i'm addicted i miss it when it counts, but during practice i hit almost all of them. just like real life.
  25. 1 point
    Men from that generation were not to be fucked with.
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  28. 1 point
    that GSER is fuckING dope!
  29. 1 point
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  32. 1 point
    is there a category on awesomest pet yet? umm lots of potential winners there.
  33. 1 point
    im definetly a dope eating degenerate and i feel that its not a part of being a bomber but people who go out usually are kinda fucked up just saying
  34. 1 point
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  39. 1 point
    ''I did not have sexual relations with that woman'' - Bill Clinton ''I did not have sexual relations with that man'' - Wale (rapper) denying the rumours that he spent a night with Lady Gaga.
  40. 1 point
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  42. 1 point
    this, that pacer jas7 shit, BEL
  43. 1 point
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  45. 1 point
    ICC25 nigga. Get on my level.
  46. 1 point
    RELAX ICR part of an uncompleted ICR "Christmas" Production. Will post the entire production by Christmas. What can I say,... I lovez gold.
  47. 1 point
    I'm fuckin' sick of trying to find the best pickles in the world. n/h. I have a hometown company Topor's, which produces some extremely quality naturally fermented pickles, and I have an infatuation with getting to the bottom which is the best. I know it's all about what one likes, but I'm talking about naturally fermented fuckin' no vinegar bullshit. No fuckin' Vlasic bullshit or Claussen garbage. I fucked with Bubbies, which tops the list. I fucked with Don Hermann's, and Strubs which are said to be among the best, but can't fuck with Bubbies or Topor's. Some polish cucumbers in brine are phenomenal and I can't stand not pinpointing them shits 'cause I'm an American and who can't ever know what the fuck is out there that ain't bein' imported. I hear Gus', Ba-tempte, and some fucks out of Minnesota are definitely worth a go. But, shit....try ordering a small amount of these shits, that need to be refridgerated, and I'm like...the fuck anybody REALLY knows what the best pickle is. Anybody who gets Bubbies in the local grocery store though, you fucks are golden. I gotta pay $7 a jar for them shits at one joint about 30 miles from my crib. And fuck my local joints McClure's Detroit/Brooklyn for thinking they got good shit. I busted out $24 bones on them shits, TWO REGULAR SIZED JARS!!! ANd they was busted as fuck. I likes them bubbies, topor's joints. ANything that relates, if better, like more hot & garlic. Please someone post me a PM so I don't come out my pocket hundreds of fuckin' dollars gettin' these shits delivered to my door on next day dry ice delivery bullshit.
  48. 1 point
    post office.... that yellow delivery service i cant remember................. uhhhhhhhh DHL!!! allah does not approve.
  49. 1 point
    love that this fools is paintin again!!!^^^
  50. 1 point
    Yea I dig Alts work... Some old but bold
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