Volume 1, Issue 3: Football is well and truly back!

Plus a longer than necessary eulogy for Little T's

Well, they did it, those sumbitches actually pulled it off. Not that we expected less, after watching the Bundesliga do it for 6 matchdays, the Belarusians do it willy-nilly for like 12, and the South Koreans surviving a sex doll scandal in the stands, the EPL and Championship kicked off on Wednesday. And in classic English football fashion, we had a goal erroneously disallowed and an even weirder explanation. David Luiz, David Luizing all over the goddamn place.

Thank the maker, Premier League is back BAYBEEEEEEEE! I send this before the Merseyside Derby on Sunday afternoon, so I may want to curl up into a ball and die on Sunday evening, happy father’s day to me indeed!

In other soccer news, MLS is prepared to enter the hellscape that is Orlando, Florida and it’s damp 98 degrees mid-July heat, amongst other things, like a huge spike in COVID cases, machete tattoos becoming literal, crossbow attacks, oh and yeah, did we mention a huge ass spike in COVID cases! But no worries, Dan Graber is here to grab that sweet Disney cash (nevermind that the league has, ya know, a couple of other TV networks to deal with). Also don’t mind 98 with a 95% humidity, they’re playing matches at 8 am 7:00 pm & 9:30 pm. Hell is truly real if I gotta roll my ass outta bed to watch FC Cincinnati and Columbus kick a ball at each other before I’ve had half a pot of coffee.

A few other things of interest

In non-soccer news, my beloved hometown nine have finally, FINALLY, taken down the statue of their notoriously racist former owner. A couple of things as the snowflakes have come out in full force to bitch and moan about the history and other such white problems.

  • Calvin Griffith was a widely known racist. This was a fairly open secret in Minnesota and those who tell you it wasn’t are either white, have their head in the sand, or probably both of those things.

  • The Twins, it appears, have down this of their own accord. Granted there has been some pressure for them to remove the statue, but nothing as vocally loud or just as we’ve seen in the last few weeks. So, kudos to the Twins for recognizing this and doing the right thing, eventually. I mean the right thing was never putting up that statue 10 years ago, but better late than never.

  • Finally, I got into it on twitter with a guy from Chicago about statues and the tearing down of them. He argued that this was not enough and that more should be done to educate. Mine was, yes, and. As in yes we can take down this statue and do more to educate. He didn’t like that and called me triggered. So, that was a fun Friday afternoon!

In other, much, much sadder landmark going away news. Little T’s is for sale! If you never had the pleasure of drinking a Cherry Coke the size of a small child, eating a deep-fried chimichanga the size of your head, marveling at the Patrick Swayze art, trying to sober up at 3 am in the morning after a night of drinking and dancing at First Avenue, or more recently tied one on at Happy Hour, well you’ve never truly lived and I feel sorry for you.

That being said, I will miss the place. In its original iteration, it was open 365 days a year and served as a home away from home for the brief time I lived in Minneapolis when my friend Travis and I would run their from our apartments on the other side of the MIA. We would drink those cherry cokes and eat the aforementioned chimichangas and make small talk with the punk waitresses who were, in my memory, ridiculously good-looking with tattoos that neither of us had the guts to get (at the time). We’d wander in at 2 in the morning after an Alkaline Trio show in the Ascot Room, sweaty, hungry, and thirsty and he servers, god bless ‘em wouldn’t even need to ask us our orders. About 15 minutes after sitting down, gigantic chicken chimichangas would arrive, covering up some cockamamie drawing or an elaborate joke we had scribbled on the butcher paper that covered each table.

Little T’s was one of the only places I would bring my grandparents to near my apartment in South Minneapolis. My grandfather was always a little shocked by the amounts of tattoos that were on display (as well as the amount of skin), but whenever they came to visit from Maple Grove, they always asked to visit T’s. It's one of the first places we went to after my grandfather’s funeral years ago. Me, my aunt, my mom, and my grandma.

It was never quite the same after some major water damage forced it to close for a couple of years in the mid-2010s. When it re-emerged they had done major renovations, added the aforementioned bar, and more importantly, drastically cut hours. Recently they were one of a dozen or so businesses on Minneapolis’ Eat Street found in violation of labor laws.

Despite flaws, I will always have a fond memory of Little T’s. In fact, the last time I was there was back in October when my then 9-month-old son was in the hospital for over a week. It was the scariest two weeks of my life, but it was nice to get out of the hospital for a Jamo and PBR while I waited for takeout chimichangas to bring back to our room because sometimes you just need to eat a Chimichanga larger than your son.

Adam Lallana can hold his breath for up to 5 minutes underwater? Adam Lallana can hold his breath for up to 5 minutes underwater! And so can you!

In the, Stupidly Obvious Department: Dennis Rodman seems like a fun hang!

Some people just want to watch the world burn, like this sadist who bought an ice cream truck that serves no ice cream and plays death metal!

Some things you may have missed

We podded about a few things since the last newsletter

Until we meet again, say hi to your dad for me!