dan miracle retweeted
The Brewers are being celebrated like they invented baseball.
They are doing things that have become unusual.
They have an old school tough manager who players love playing for.
They focus on basic easy to understand basic fundamentals.
They have a hitting coach that was an overachieving player for skill that played in the big leagues.
They hit the ball the other way.
They value putting the ball in play.
They adjust their approach based on situation and count.
They are not addicted to exit velocity and launch angle bullshit.
They bunt and steal bases.
They do not have selfish superstars that need to be treated like celebrities.
The Brewers simply play the game how it was meant to be played.
dan miracle retweeted
The NFL is really dumb about its flex scheduling.
All of America is going to have to watch the 2-5 Eagles vs the 1-4-1 Commanders on Sunday Night Football.
Meanwhile only about 25% of America will get the 5-2 Steelers vs the 5-2 Browns.
What is Roger Goodell thinking?
dan miracle retweeted
WE ARE BEING POISONED.
Make smart choices.
DON'T EAT GARBAGE FOOD.
(There is no playing with your health.)
dan miracle retweeted
If you can build a flying car that defies gravity then I'm pretty sure you can build a car that's cheap reliable and lasts fifty years. The world needs that more right now I think.
dan miracle retweeted
If 1/2 the budget is fraud…
Federal spending: $7.4 trillion
Taxes collected: $5.4 trillion
Deficit: $2.0 trillion
If fraud is removed…
Federal spending: $3.7 trillion
Taxes collected: $5.4 trillion
Surplus: $1.7 trillion
American taxpayers could have a 37% tax decrease if fraud is removed.
Imagine keeping 37% more of YOUR money instead of it being stolen?
Imagine a life without being robbed.
Woah.🤯
dan miracle retweeted
The $30 million net worth on a $174,000 salary might be worth investigating too.
Just saying.
dan miracle retweeted
🔻 EVERY ANCIENT CIVILIZATION KNEW ABOUT FREQUENCY HEALING. EVERY MODERN GOVERNMENT CLASSIFIED IT.
The Egyptians used sound chambers tuned to 111 Hz. The Greeks built healing temples called Asclepeions where patients slept inside acoustically designed rooms. The Tibetans developed singing bowls calibrated to specific organ frequencies. The Aboriginal Australians used the didgeridoo as a healing instrument for 40,000 years.
Four civilizations. Four continents. Four completely independent discoveries of the same principle: sound frequency heals the human body.
This is not cultural mythology. In 2006, Professor Ian Cook at UCLA used EEG imaging to prove that 111 Hz shuts down the brain’s language center and activates the prefrontal cortex associated with deep healing and emotional processing. The same frequency the Egyptians carved into stone 4,500 years ago.
They knew. Without MRI machines. Without EEG technology. Without modern physics. They knew.
Now ask the obvious question. If ancient civilizations across the entire planet independently discovered frequency-based healing, why does modern medicine pretend it does not exist?
Because modern medicine is not the evolution of ancient knowledge. It is the replacement of it. A deliberate replacement funded by families who profit from chemical dependency.
In 1910, they burned the old system down with the Flexner Report. In 1934, they destroyed Royal Rife when he proved frequency kills cancer. In 1953, they changed music from 432 Hz to 440 Hz. In 1960, they disconnected you from the Earth with rubber soles. In 1970, they added fluoride to calcify your pineal gland.
Step by step. Decade by decade. They systematically severed every connection between you and the frequencies that heal you. Then they sold you chemicals and called it progress.
The MedBed is not new technology. It is ancient technology rebuilt with modern precision. It is the return of what every civilization on Earth once had access to—before it was stolen.
History is not repeating. It is being corrected.
Share !
dan miracle retweeted
Super Sky Point to Mike Ditka. I moved to Chicago in 2003, over a decade after “Da Coach” prowled the sidelines at Soldier Field for the final time. Yet his presence has always felt current. He arrived in 1961, a crew cut chunk of granite who hauled in a dozen touchdowns as a Pro Bowl rookie tight end. A quarter of a century later, he was carried off the field in glory at Super Bowl XX. Four decades later, his shadow casts large as ever over the banks of Lake Michigan as the only Bears head coach to ever hoist that precious Lombardi.
He’s beloved in this town for many reasons. Because he always said what he meant and meant what he said - even if sometimes he shouldn’t have said it. Because he loved the common man. Because even when he was an asshole, he was OUR asshole. Walter Payton is the greatest Bear. Dick Butkus is the most violent. George Halas will always be Papa Bear. But no one, and I mean no one, better represents what it means to be a Chicago Bear, or a Chicago Bears fan, than Mike Fucking Ditka. St. Peter, grab a helmet, because today he’s young again. #RIP
dan miracle retweeted
Mike Ditka was scheduled to sing the seventh inning stretch on July 5th, 1998. This was the year that Harry Caray died and the “guest conductor” was new at Wrigley Field. Ditka got stuck in traffic and was running late. By the time the top of the seventh ended, Ditka was still not there and Steve Stone and Chip Caray stalled for time. Finally Ditka busts into the press box, grabs the mic, and screams Take Me Out To The Ball Game in twenty two seconds! Organist Gary Pressy could barely keep up! The crowd roared with approval! R.I.P. Mike Ditka
dan miracle retweeted
Mike Ditka was born Michael Dyczko.
His father was a welder. The family was Polish and Ukrainian, in the coal and steel country of western Pennsylvania, and nobody around them could pronounce Dyczko.
So they changed it to Ditka.
Rest in peace to the legend. His family announced today that Mike Ditka has passed away at 86 years old.
He was born in Carnegie and grew up in Aliquippa, and he got out of there the way kids from those towns got out, which was football.
The Chicago Bears took him fifth overall in 1961 out of Pitt.
Before him a tight end was basically a sixth lineman who caught something once in a while. As a rookie Mike Ditka went for 1,076 yards and 12 touchdowns, which no tight end had ever done, and the job has never gone back to what it was.
He spent six seasons playing for the Bears, and in 1963 he won the NFL Championship with them.
Then he and George Halas fell out over money, and on his way out of town Ditka said the old man threw nickels around like manhole covers.
Halas traded him to the Philadelphia Eagles in April of 1967 for a quarterback.
He finished playing with the Dallas Cowboys. He caught a touchdown in Super Bowl VI. He retired in 1973, Tom Landry put him on the staff, and he got another ring there as an assistant.
And then he wrote George Halas a letter.
He told him he regretted the way it had ended in Chicago. He told him that when he was ready, he wanted to come back and coach the Bears.
Halas gave him the job in 1982.
Here is what Ditka said when he got there.
"Give me three years, and if you walk with me, we'll get to the dance."
They went 15 and 1 in 1985 and beat the New England Patriots 46 to 10 in Super Bowl XX.
Here is how he described that team.
"There are Smiths and there are Grabowskis. We're the Grabowskis."
That is a welder's kid talking.
In 1988 he had a heart attack during the season and blamed it on stress. He was back in weeks. The Bears went 12 and 4 and he was Coach of the Year for the second time.
Chicago fired him in January of 1993.
He took the New Orleans Saints job in 1997 and it did not work. He traded every pick New Orleans had in 1999, plus the following year's first rounder, to move up and take Ricky Williams. They let him go after a 3 and 13 season.
None of that is what anybody is going to remember.
In 1988 he became the first tight end ever put into the Pro Football Hall of Fame. He is the only man who was part of both of the last two championships the Chicago Bears have won, as a player in 1963 and as the head coach in 1985. The Bears retired his number 89 in 2013.
They changed the name so the neighbors could pronounce it.
He turned it into the one that whole city still shouts.
For more stories like this, follow us on any platform @thesportsontap
dan miracle retweeted
One of my favs that has been floating around for a while
"Calvin? Calvin, sweetheart?"
In the darkness Calvin heard the sound of Susie, his wife of fifty-three years. Calvin struggled to open his eyes. God, he was so tired and it took so much strength. Slowly, light replaced the darkness, and soon vision followed. At the foot of his bed stood his wife. Calvin wet his dry lips and spoke hoarsely, "Did... did you.... find him?"
"Yes dear," Susie said smiling sadly, "He was in the attic."
Susie reached into her big purse and brought out a soft, old, orange tiger doll. Calvin could not help but laugh. It had been so long. Too long.
"I washed him for you," Susie said, her voice cracking a little as she laid the stuffed tiger next to her husband.
"Thank you, Susie." Calvin said.
A few moments passed as Calvin just laid on his hospital bed, his head turned to the side, staring at the old toy with nostalgia.
"Dear," Calvin said finally. "Would you mind leaving me alone with Hobbes for a while? I would like to catch up with him."
"All right," Susie said. "I'll get something to eat in the cafeteria. I'll be back soon."
Susie kissed her husband on the forehead and turned to leave. With sudden but gentle strength Calvin stopped her. Lovingly he pulled his wife in and gave her a passionate kiss on the lips. "I love you," he said.
"And I love you," said Susie.
Susie turned and left. Calvin saw tears streaming from her face as she went out the door.
Calvin then turned to face his oldest and dearest friend. "Hello Hobbes. It's been a long time hasn't it old pal?"
Hobbes was no longer a stuffed doll but the big furry old tiger Calvin had always remembered. "It sure has, Calvin." said Hobbes.
"You... haven't changed a bit." Calvin smiled.
"You've changed a lot." Hobbes said sadly.
Calvin laughed, "Really? I haven't noticed at all."
There was a long pause. The sound of a clock ticking away the seconds rang throughout the sterile hospital room.
"So... you married Susie Derkins." Hobbes said, finally smiling. "I knew you always like her."
"Shut up!" Calvin said, his smile bigger than ever.
"Tell me everything I missed. I'd love to hear what you've been up to!" Hobbes said, excited.
And so Calvin told him everything. He told him about how he and Susie fell in love in high school and had married after graduating from college, about his three kids and four grandkids, how he turned Spaceman Spiff into one of the most popular sci-fi novels of the decade, and so on. After he told Hobbes all this there was another pregnant pause.
"You know... I visited you in the attic a bunch of times." Calvin said.
"I know."
"But I couldn't see you. All I saw was a stuffed animal." Calvin voice was breaking and tears of regret started welling up in his eyes.
"You grew up old buddy." said Hobbes.
Calvin broke down and sobbed, hugging his best friend. "I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry I broke my promise! I promised I wouldn't grow up and that we'd be together forever!!"
Hobbes stroke the Calvin's hair, or what little was left of it. "But you didn't."
"What do you mean?"
"We were always together... in our dreams."
"We were?"
"We were."
"Hobbes?"
"Yeah, old buddy?"
"I'm so glad I got to see you like this... one last time..."
"Me too, Calvin. Me too."
"Sweetheart?" Susie voice came from outside the door.
"Yes dear?" Calvin replied.
"Can I come in?" Susie asked.
"Just a minute."
Calvin turned to face Hobbes one last time. "Goodbye Hobbes. Thanks... for everything..."
"No, thank you Calvin." Hobbes said.
Calvin turned back to the door and said, "You can come in now."
Susie came in and said, "Look who's come to visit you."
Calvin's children and grandchildren followed Susie into Calvin's room. The youngest grandchild ran past the rest of them and hugged Calvin in a hard, excited hug. "Grandpa!!" screamed the child in delight.
"Francis!" cried Calvin's daughter, "Be gentle with your grandfather."
Calvin's daughter turned to her dad. "I'm sorry, Daddy. Francis never seems to behave these days. He just runs around making a mess and coming up with strange stories."
Calvin laughed and said, "Well now! That sound just like me when I was his age."
Calvin and his family chatted some more until a nurse said, "Sorry, but visiting hours are almost up."
Calvin's beloved family said good bye and promised to visit tomorrow. As they turned to leave Calvin said, "Francis. Come here for a second."
Francis came over to his grandfather's side, "What is it Gramps?"
Calvin reached over to the stuffed tiger on his bedside and and held him out shakily to his grandson, who looked exactly as he did so many years ago. "This is Hobbes. He was my best friend when I was your age. I want you to have him."
"He's just a stuffed tiger." Francis said, eyebrows raised.
Calvin laughed, "Well, let me tell you a secret."
Francis leaned closer to Calvin. Calvin whispered, "If you catch him in a tiger trap using a tuna sandwich as bait he will turn into a real tiger."
Francis gasped in delighted awe. Calvin continued, "Not only that he will be your best friend forever."
"Wow! Thanks grandpa!" Francis said, hugging his grandpa tightly again.
"Francis! We need to go now!" Calvin's daughter called.
"Okay!" Francis shouted back.
"Take good care of him." Calvin said.
"I will." Francis said before running off after the rest of the family.
Calvin laid on his back and stared at the ceiling. The time to go was close. He could feel it in his soul. Calvin tried to remember a quote he read in a book once. It said something about death being the next great adventure or something like that. He eyelids grew heavy and his breathing slowed. As he went deeper into his final sleep he heard Hobbes, as if he was right next to him at his bedside. "I'll take care of him, Calvin..."
Calvin took his first step toward one more adventure and breathed his last with a grin on his face
