Joey St. Germain

The chop going on 1 for Berger and Koepka

Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened

The consensus board is sort of like the law. It’s very reasonable and normal to be breaking it every once in a awhile, but when you do it over and over it’s probably bad.

Algunos afirman que las imágenes de Apollo parecen falsas porque, si se acelera el video, los astronautas se mueven como en la Tierra. Sin embargo, el detalle clave está en el polvo lunar: cuando se levanta, cae en trayectorias parabólicas perfectas, sin dispersarse ni formar nubes que queden suspendidas. Eso solo es posible en un vacío (sin aire que frene las partículas) y con la baja gravedad de la Luna (~1/6 de la terrestre). En la Tierra, aunque aceleres o ralentices el video, el polvo se comportaría de forma muy diferente por la resistencia del aire. Este comportamiento del polvo es una de las pruebas más fuertes de que las grabaciones se hicieron realmente en la Luna.

The 2026 edition of "One Shining Moment" has arrived 🙏 🎥 @MarchMadnessMBB

When your work and your fandom collide

A major issue in politics today is everyone characterizes the “other side” based on the craziest tweets they can find while simultaneously being able to understand that the radicals on their side don’t represent their party.

I remain very confused by all the whining every time something like Omarion Hampton happens. Does no one know you’re allowed to bet the under?

“The Party told you to reject the evidence of your eyes and ears. It was their final, most essential command.” —George Orwell, 1984

What it’s like watching the Vikings offense

@thorku This is standard Vilma in my experience

You can tell that Jonathan Vilma did zero homework before calling this game. Brain rot, old narratives, and cliches.

91.4% of worries experienced by people with anxiety never come true.

Knowing how little you matter is very important for your mental health and your happiness. @naval

On Thanksgiving we celebrate Randy Moss putting the Dallas Cowboys in a body bag for passing on him.

"My name's Raymond. I'm 73. I work the parking lot at St. Joseph's Hospital. Minimum wage, orange vest, a whistle I barely use. Most people don't even look at me. I'm just the old man waving cars into spaces. But I see everything. Like the black sedan that circled the lot every morning at 6 a.m. for three weeks. Young man driving, grandmother in the passenger seat. Chemotherapy, I figured. He'd drop her at the entrance, then spend 20 minutes hunting for parking, missing her appointments. One morning, I stopped him. "What time tomorrow?" "6:15," he said, confused. "Space A-7 will be empty. I'll save it." He blinked. "You... you can do that?" "I can now," I said. Next morning, I stood in A-7, holding my ground as cars circled angrily. When his sedan pulled up, I moved. He rolled down his window, speechless. "Why?" "Because she needs you in there with her," I said. "Not out here stressing." He cried. Right there in the parking lot. Word spread quietly. A father with a sick baby asked if I could help. A woman visiting her dying husband. I started arriving at 5 a.m., notebook in hand, tracking who needed what. Saved spots became sacred. People stopped honking. They waited. Because they knew someone else was fighting something bigger than traffic. But here's what changed everything, A businessman in a Mercedes screamed at me one morning. "I'm not sick! I need that spot for a meeting!" "Then walk," I said calmly. "That space is for someone whose hands are shaking too hard to grip a steering wheel." He sped off, furious. But a woman behind him got out of her car and hugged me. "My son has leukemia," she sobbed. "Thank you for seeing us." The hospital tried to stop me. "Liability issues," they said. But then families started writing letters. Dozens. "Raymond made the worst days bearable." "He gave us one less thing to break over." Last month, they made it official. "Reserved Parking for Families in Crisis." Ten spots, marked with blue signs. And they asked me to manage it. But the best part? A man I'd helped two years ago, his mother survived, came back. He's a carpenter. Built a small wooden box, mounted it by the reserved spaces. Inside? Prayer cards, tissues, breath mints, and a note, "Take what you need. You're not alone. -Raymond & Friends" People leave things now. Granola bars. Phone chargers. Yesterday, someone left a hand-knitted blanket. I'm 73. I direct traffic in a hospital parking lot. But I've learned this: Healing doesn't just happen in operating rooms. Sometimes it starts in a parking space. When someone says, "I see your crisis. Let me carry this one small piece." So pay attention. At the grocery checkout, the coffee line, wherever you are. Someone's drowning in the little things while fighting the big ones. Hold a door. Save a spot. Carry the weight no one else sees. It's not glamorous. But it's everything." Let this story reach more hearts.... Credit: Mary Nelson

Mascots running a tush push against children is OD

“Our proud nation will do fantasy football waivers on Tuesdays.” “But waivers on Wednesdays would make way more sense since they’d allow everyone to actually get a full feel for the week’s injury concerns.” “And yet we won’t.”

The cart shuts off as you’re driving for your life and tells you to return to the cart path in reverse

It’s a special day - the anniversary of Ron Grant overrunning his return to first base

That's history making... first time ever for double #Nobody touchdowns on the same play!

Kevin really nails it, specifically with his third final thought