I was the Internet before the Internet. History Teacher-OBA Champ Baseball Coach-GBSSA Champ Football/Basketball Coach, Sarcastic Hockey Dad, Movie/TV Machine
Two years to the month after Johnny Carson left The Tonight Show in May 1992, Carson made a surprise appearance on David Letterman in May 1994 to present the Top Ten List 👏 This would mark Carson's final appearance on television ever.
The year is 1949.
The Nobel Prize in Medicine has just gone to the man who invented the lobotomy. Your doctor suggests one for your sister, who has not been herself since the baby came. It is the most celebrated advance in psychiatry of the age, and he is simply current. By the time the prize curdles into an embarrassment, close to twenty thousand Americans have had the operation, and proportionally more here in Britain.
The year is 1956.
Lay the baby down on his front, the doctor says. So does the most trusted childcare book ever written, the one on every new mother's shelf. On his back he might choke, the reasoning goes. Millions obey. The advice holds for nearly thirty years, long after the evidence has quietly turned, and a generation of cot deaths is counted before anyone thinks to roll the babies over.
The year is 1966.
A bestselling book informs your wife that menopause is a disease, that she is, in the author's word, a castrate, and that a small daily pill will keep her youthful and tolerable to live with. Her doctor agrees. The drug becomes one of the most prescribed in the country. Nobody mentions that the author sat on the payroll of the company that made it. That detail surfaces decades later, in the same year the landmark trial is halted early for raising rates of breast cancer, stroke and clots.
The year is 1979.
Your ulcer is caused by stress and sharp food, the doctor explains. Calm down, drink milk, take the antacid that happens to be the best-selling medicine on earth. Two Australians are about to prove that most ulcers are caused by a bacterium and cured by a fortnight of antibiotics. The profession laughs. One of them eventually drinks a beaker of the stuff to settle the matter. The establishment takes the better part of twenty years to stop laughing. The Nobel lands in 2005.
The year is 1985.
Butter is dangerous, the doctor says. Switch to margarine, it is modern, it is heart-healthy, the experts are united. The spread he nudges you toward is loaded with trans fats, which the next decade will identify as the genuinely dangerous one, and which will eventually be banned outright. The butter goes quietly back in the fridge. No correction is ever printed at the volume of the original warning.
The year is 1992.
There is a pyramid on the surgery wall, and the very same one in your grandchild's classroom. Bread, cereal, rice and pasta form the broad virtuous base, up to eleven servings a day. Fat is exiled to the tiny tip. The chart was reportedly held back a year while the relevant industries had their say. It is wrong at the bottom and wrong at the top.
Now it is today.
Your doctor has new guidelines, new studies, a fresh consensus, delivered with precisely the steady confidence of every guideline above. He believes it, and he has good reason to. So did every doctor in this thread. None of them were villains. Each was sincere, most were kind, and all were certain, reading from a map that somebody else had drawn and handed them. That is the part worth sitting with.
So when the man in the white coat tells you what to eat, what to fear, and what to swallow every morning for the rest of your life, you are allowed to ask. Who paid for the study. What the evidence says beneath the headline. What he was just as certain about thirty years ago, and where that advice sits now.
Then make up your own mind. Call it scepticism, or call it whatever your grandmother called it when she ignored the advert, kept the butter where it was, and lived to ninety-one.
It has outlasted every consensus on this list. It will outlast this one too.
From 1970 to 1992, the Canada Fitness Award Program pushed Canadian youth to focus on health and fitness.
An entire generation of Canadian children have memories (some good, some bad) of taking part in the program.
This is the story.
📸 Reditt (ipini)
🧵 1/10
It was always an awkward moment when someone needed the red bat.
“Yeah, Billy, you can play but you gotta use the red bat.”
“But I wanna use the yellow bat like everybody else.”
“Motherfucker, you went 0-for-46 yesterday. The yellow bat is no longer an option for you.”
We have teams tanking so hard that records are being broken. First game in NBA history where 3 different players had a triple double 🤦🏻♂️
Guys on 10 day contracts getting triple doubles…Yet y’all want to use stats from this joke of an era to prove anything? 😂
(@mollyhannahm)
In the 1980's, Canadian broadcaster Global found a loophole in Canadian broadcasting legislation.
Instead of broadcasting test patterns on screen and losing out on overnight revenue, they could send a cameraman into the city to walk around and film the streets of Toronto.
Global producers decided to create their own original music to accompany the show instead of losing out on licensing fees.
Because the show was entirely "Canadian Content", this allowed Global to leave key primetime slots open to broadcast American content.
The show was called Night Walk.
Although Night Walk was created to exploit a loophole, the footage that was left behind now looks like a time capsule.
Keep in mind….
Michael Jordan has more 50+ point playoffs games than:
- Kobe Bryant
- Stephen Curry
- Kevin Durant
- Shaquille O’Neal
- Larry Bird
- Magic Johnson
- Kareem Abdul-Jabbar
- James Harden
- Dwyane Wade
- Dirk Nowitzki
- Vince Carter
- Hakeem Olajuwon
- Tim Duncan
- Isiah Thomas
- Tracy McGrady
- Carmelo Anthony
- David Robinson
- Karl Malone
AND……
- LeBron James
…… COMBINED!! 👑🐐
There is only one answer.
"I had met a poor old rich man yesterday.
In his garage he has a Packard and a Buick, and he owns the finest mansion in Greenville, S.C., but he’s busted, broke – broken-hearted.
He’s sick, and he’s afraid he’s going to die in what for 20 years has been disgrace.
I sat with 'Shoeless Joe' Jackson in the rickety grandstand as the Nats played the Tigers in Greenville.
In disguised curiosity, players of the Detroit and Washington teams sauntered past to glimpse the man when his presence in the park was whispered about.
They wanted a gander at the fellow their fathers had told them about.
They stared at the man who, their Dad's had told them, could do more things better on a baseball field than any player who ever lived.
They saw a stout, florid-faced, powerful-looking man of 53.
I found him sitting with a doctor.
Without his physician, he could not go to the ball game.
The latest of his heart attacks occurred only two weeks ago.
“It was only a little jolt,” he said, “but it’s got me scared.”
He smiled when he said it, and he didn’t look scared.
Neither was there a scare only resignation, to his tone when he continued:
“I don’t think I’ll last long, now.”
How to begin, how to ask a man like that about the tragedy in his life – the fixed World Series of 1919 that brought his banishment from baseball.
He saved me the trouble.
He was anticipating me.
He said, “I know what you’re going to ask me.
It’s what they all ask me when they get their nerve up.
Well, Sonny, I’m as innocent as you are.
I had no part in that fix in 1919.”
How now to draw him out?
Was he bitter toward baseball, I asked.
Did he have any resentment toward the game that had thrown him out?
“No,” he said, curtly.
“Not bitter toward baseball.
I don’t care for Judge Landis.”
He didn’t like Judge Landis?
“No, he didn’t keep his bargain with me.
He said if the courts declared me not guilty, he’d stand by me.
That word wasn’t kept when the court acquitted me in the Black Sox trial.
How can I like Judge Landis?
The evidence in court showed that Buck Weaver and I were innocent.
Even the fellows who were in on the fix testified that we had no part in it.
My God, Sonny, did you ever look up the records of that World Series.”
What about the records, Joe, I asked.
“I can take you home and show them to you.
The only three games the White Sox won in the series, Buck Weaver and I won for ‘em.
Did you know that I made more hits – Twelve – than anybody in that series.
And that it stood as a World Series record for total hits until 1930 when Pepper Martin got 13.
Does that sound like I was laying down.
My God, Sonny, all you have to do is look at the records.”
Shirley Povich.
Washington Post
April 11, 1941.
In my HOF!!!!
Larry Legend"s last points..
One of the most beautiful moments in NBA history... The closing ceremony of the old Boston Garden in 1995...
Red Auerbach, Don Nelson, Jojo White, Sam Jones, Bob Cousy, Bill Russell, and Larry Bird making the final passes