WIN ROCKY WIN T SHIRT. WIN ROCKY WIN

WIN ROCKY WIN T SHIRT. BROOKLYN INDUSTRIES T SHIRTS. WHOLESALE T SHIRT DESIGNS

Win Rocky Win T Shirt


win rocky win t shirt
    t shirt
  • A T-shirt (T shirt or tee) is a shirt which is pulled on over the head to cover most of a person's torso. A T-shirt is usually buttonless and collarless, with a round neck and short sleeves.
  • A short-sleeved casual top, generally made of cotton, having the shape of a T when spread out flat
  • jersey: a close-fitting pullover shirt
  • T Shirt is a 1976 album by Loudon Wainwright III. Unlike his earlier records, this (and the subsequent 'Final Exam') saw Wainwright adopt a full blown rock band (Slowtrain) - though there are acoustic songs on T-Shirt, including a talking blues.
    rocky
  • abounding in rocks or stones; "rocky fields"; "stony ground"; "bouldery beaches"
  • Tending to rock or shake; unsteady
  • Not stable or firm; full of problems
  • liable to rock; "on high rocky heels"
  • rough: causing or characterized by jolts and irregular movements; "a rough ride"
    win
  • Gain (a person's attention, support, or love), typically gradually or by effort
  • be the winner in a contest or competition; be victorious; "He won the Gold Medal in skating"; "Our home team won"; "Win the game"
  • a victory (as in a race or other competition); "he was happy to get the win"
  • Be successful or victorious in (a contest or conflict)
  • acquire: win something through one's efforts; "I acquired a passing knowledge of Chinese"; "Gain an understanding of international finance"
  • Acquire or secure as a result of a contest, conflict, bet, or other endeavor
win rocky win t shirt - Rocky: The
Rocky: The Undisputed Collection (Rocky / Rocky II / Rocky III / Rocky IV / Rocky V / Rocky Balboa) [Blu-ray]
Rocky: The Undisputed Collection (Rocky / Rocky II / Rocky III / Rocky IV / Rocky V / Rocky Balboa) [Blu-ray]
ROCKY - THE UNDISPUTED COLLECTION - Blu-Ray Movie

Review for Rocky:
The only remaining evidence that Sylvester Stallone might have had a respectable career, this 1976 Oscar winner (for Best Picture, Director, and Editing) is still the quintessential ode to an underdog and one of the best boxing movies ever made. After writing the script about a two-bit boxer who gets a "million-to-one shot" against the world heavyweight champion, Stallone insisted that he star in the title role, and his equally unknown status helped to catapult him (and this rousing film) to overnight success. The story is familiar, but it has been handled with such vitality and emotional honesty that you can't help but leap and cheer for Rocky Balboa, the chump turned champ (despite his valiant defeat in the ring) who stuns the boxing world with the support of his timid girlfriend, Adrian (Talia Shire), and grizzled trainer, Mickey (Burgess Meredith). Oscar nominations went to all the lead actors (including Burt Young as Adrian's hot-tempered brother), but four sequels could never top the universal appeal of this low-budget crowd pleaser. --Jeff Shannon

Review for Rocky II:
Beginning precisely where Rocky left off, the surprisingly effective 1979 sequel takes the saga of Rocky Balboa to its logical next step, as the palooka turned public idol and media darling returns to his "normal" life in Philadelphia with his newlywed bride Adrian (Talia Shire) and some degree of material comfort. He needs to find a job, but boxing champ Apollo Creed (Carl Weathers) is challenging Rocky to a lucrative rematch, and despite his doctor's warning against future boxing, Rocky can't resist. Defying the odds that most sequels can't live up to their originals, Rocky II doesn't pack all the punch that Rocky did, but it takes us further into the lives of its now-familiar and beloved characters, and Stallone (as director and star) gives us another rousing finale in the ring. Do you really need to know who wins? --Jeff Shannon

Review for Rocky III:
Rocky III: The third installment in the Rocky saga is the last one to matter, and in this case only marginally. The now rich and famous Rocky (Sylvester Stallone) triumphantly pummels a succession of boxing challengers until he encounters Clubber Lang (Mr. T), a human wall of brick who wants a piece of Rocky's action. The Rock's loyal trainer Mickey (Burgess Meredith) has taken ill and dies, so Rocky recruits retired opponent Apollo Creed (Carl Weathers) to whip him into fighting shape after his embarrassing defeat to Clubber. Time for another rematch, mixed in with some family matters involving Rocky's brother-in-law Paulie (Burt Young), who's feeling neglected amid all the hoopla. Not bad as sequels go, boosted by Mr. T.'s taunting presence and yet another rousing finale. For those with a bad case of '80s nostalgia, the hit theme song "Eye of the Tiger" is sure to bring back memories. --Jeff Shannon

Review for Rocky IV:
It was time for Sylvester Stallone to say "enough, already" to the boxing hero he plays in the popular Rocky film series, but instead Stallone kept the saga going by pushing Rocky into Rambo territory. The 1985 Rocky IV finds the Italian stallion pitted against a seemingly unbeatable Russian monster named Drago (Dolph Lundgren) who lets his wife (Stallone's then-wife, Brigitte Nielsen) do all the talking. With a mighty punch, Drago has sent Rocky's former opponent and trainer Apollo Creed to an early grave, and the boxer responds with the ultimate challenge. Even the Russians are rooting for Rocky, so it's not hard to guess how the film ends. Despite Stallone's claims to the contrary, this installment was followed by Rocky V in 1990. --Jeff Shannon

Review for Rocky Balboa:
The sixth installment of the Rocky series picks up the story of the Italian Stallion 16 years after the morose Rocky V. And sure, at his advanced age, Sylvester Stallone now looks like one of those sides of beef his character used to pound on. No matter. Somehow you buy the premise after all these years, even if it takes forever for Rocky Balboa to stop wallowing in self-pity (Adrian is dead, his old haunts are demolished) and get down to the business of drinking raw eggs and running up staircases. The business at hand is an unlikely exhibition fight with champion Mason Dixon (Antonio Tarver), which the near-sexagenarian Mr. Balboa has no business accepting. Of course, just as sure as the horns of Bill Conti's theme music are even now trumpeting through your head, the ol' Rock might have a punch or two left in him. Stallone wrote and directed, and there isn't much to say except that the movie steps in its pre-determined paces with a canny sense of what has come before (it's practically an homage to all the previous Rocky pictures, complete with fleeting flashbacks). Burt Young is around again, and Geraldine Hughes makes an appealing, rather chaste female companion for Rocky. Stallone's Rocky has gotten suspiciously articulate over the years, but he still knows how to slouch. If Stallone never forgets that, he can probably keep the franchise rolling. --Robert Horton

87% (7)
How Tom Won His Fight...
How Tom Won His Fight...
My friend Tom Benesoky emerged victorious from his fight with UFC legend Dan “The Beast” Severn after roughly a minute and a half tonight. It's a remarkable story. I'd like to share it with you. This story starts on Halloween night. I’ve just finished a long show at a shopping mall and Sheree and I are at a Halloween party. “Did you hear about Tom?” one of the people there asks me. He’s a kid with gaunt features and the look of someone who has no intention of keeping their secret. I on the other hand, am attempting employ my usual party-going strategy of trying desperately to melt into the wall until it’s time to go. I know the kid is talking about Tom Benesocky, a man I met a dozen years ago. “What about him?” I ask. “He’s gonna step into the octagon and fight Dan Severn,” the kid tells me breathlessly. “Ah,” I say. “Who’s Dan Severn?” The kid looks at me like I’ve just blown my nose on his shirt. “You don’t know who Dan Severn is?” “Nope,” I admit. The kid shakes his head, face slack with disbelief. “Severn is like…well…he’s a freaking legend. Former UFC champ. He’s a freaking monster. Shit, Dave. Everyone knows who Dan Severn is.” I can’t remember this kid’s name, so I pass on telling him my name is ‘David.’ But he plows on ahead, in the manner people have when they can’t wait to break bad news. “Severn is gonna freakin’ kill Tom.” I feel the first tendrils of disbelief. Tom is an affable guy, powerfully built. I know he’s been doing some mixed martial arts fighting…and I have had fleeting feelings of pity for anyone who faces him in the ring. The kid is waiting for me to do something. Break out in tears, maybe. Or to start wringing my hands. “So who’s Dan Severn?” I ask again. “He’s fifty wins, five losses…the guy’s a monster.” The kid calls up a picture of Severn on his iPhone. Think about Tom Sellick, shorter and built like a brick you-know-what. Later I will see one of many YouTube videos featuring Severn slamming really big guys down on the canvas, generally landing on their heads. Severn oozes a meat-eater’s vibe. I wouldn’t even want to ride on the same bus, let alone be locked into an octagon with him. If it were me, I would look across the ring and very quietly lie down in surrender. “What’s Tom’s record?” I ask. “One, one and one.” “How come he’s fighting Severn?” I ask. I am new to this UFC thing, but sounds like a little bit of a mismatch to me. “No one else would do it! They offered the fight to all kinds of people. Tom’s the only one who said yes. He’s nuts, man. He’s gonna wind up in the hospital.” The kid totters off, looking for someone else to share the great news with. I stare after him. I haven’t really talked to Tom in years. But I like him. I like him a lot. I see him across the room and smile. Eventually Tom comes and sits with myself and my son, Ryan. “How am I gonna beat Severn?” he asks Ryan. I have been astounded at the font of knowledge my son has about things UFC. Ryan begins to speak. Tom leans forward attentively, listening to each word, nodding his head thoughtfully at what he hears. What I know about UFC – or even this whole mixed martial arts thingie – would rattle in a peanut, so I keep my mouth shut during the conversation. But there is a picture emerging. Said picture looks like this: Severn is, in fact, a monster. He’s an aging monster, but he’s powerful and especially deadly if the fight ‘goes to the mat.’ (This refers to what happens when one fighter drags another fighter to the ground and they grapple.) Tom, on the other hand, is fairly new at this whole fighting thing. “Why are you doing it?” I ask him. I am careful with my tone because I don’t want it to come out like “Holy crap…are you freaking NUTS?” I know Tom’s an intelligent man, and I am looking for information. “It’s my last fight,” he says finally. He shrugs. “…and?” I prompt. “I want to go out on a high note.” I am alarmed now, and have already started praying he won’t go out on a stretcher. “What do you mean?” I ask. “Severn’s the best,” Tom tells me. “My last fight will be against the best. It would be an honour to be beaten by him.” I am thinking there are two meanings to the word ‘beaten.’ I am also thinking warriors have a strange way of looking at the world. But I can see a light at the back of Tom’s eyes. He’s thinking that maybe…just maybe…he can beat “the Beast” and there follows a white-hot career, where HE becomes ‘the new Beast.’ It makes me smile because I see the eyes of a man willing to dare great bodily harm to reach for a dream. And in that instant, I am totally and irrevocably on Tom’s side. We talk for a long while about things like David and Goliath, and how victory is an attitude and that maybe he can take Severn by surprise. I find myself wanting to fan the flames of Tom’s dream: a fist raised in victory, respect from a fighting legend. But I sense there is much more than that under the surface. I am looking at a man staring levelly at a monster
Barak and graffiti
Barak and graffiti
Barak Krakauer is many things, among them funny, self-aware, and very easy to be with. A smile is never far from his lips, or from his friendly light blue-green eyes, which this morning he says are sleep-deprived from nights spent writing philosophy papers, and not at their most handsome. His T-shirt declares that monkeys steal his underwear at night, and it is black. So are his jeans, his boots, his trench coat, his backpack, and most of his stick-straight shoulder length hair (except in front, where several strands that are dipped in red frame his face). He explains – affably, patiently, as if retelling an old story -- that black is simply the colour he likes best and prefers to wear the most for now, although he anticipates that sooner or later the habit will gradually be transformed into something else, just as the plaid shirts he used to put on every day somehow faded out of his life. The most striking quality about Barak is not his admittedly goth aesthetic. It isn’t the fact that he likes German industrial music or that he manages to appear adorable even when his Halloween costume alter ego is a comic book character named Johnny the Homicidal Maniac. It isn’t the fact that he is in love with the fluid grace he feels when he ice-skates, or that his whole face lights up when he talks about the sensation of flight that overtakes him as he speeds across the frozen water with a hockey stick in his hand. The most striking quality about Barak is the attitude of open, accepting joy with which he greets the world and which turns every experience into a story. Among the many: He tells me about being a bit of a nerd in middle school, and being apprehensive one day about the merciless teasing he was sure he would face when he got back to class after winning a Geography bee. His tone takes on a funny combination of wariness and delight when he talks about the astonishingly warm reception he received instead. As I am taking his photograph, he ignores my camera and spends a good fifteen minutes spinning the tale of the Italian waiter who took care of him the night he missed a train home from New York City. He uses the words “Christ-like” to describe the air of wisdom and kindness he felt coming from this benevolent stranger, and you can tell he takes almost as much pleasure in this single phrase as he does in relating the whole episode. You may have seen Barak loping across campus with duct tape on his left shoe; you may have seen him as Dr. Frank N. Furter in Rocky. If you live in central New Jersey, you may even have seen the high-school incarnation of him standing on a breakwater at twilight watching a storm break over the shore. But more importantly, you’re looking into the smiling eyes of Barak Krakauer right now. I dare you to smile back. Photo taken, and text written, for a 2002 college project. I wonder where my beautiful subject is today? Scanned from contact.

win rocky win t shirt
win rocky win t shirt
Rocky
Nominated* for 10 Academy AwardsA(r) and winner for Best Picture, it's the film that inspired a nation! Audiences and critics alike cheered this American success story of an "everyman" triumphing over all odds. Featuring a dynamic musical score, a thrilling fight sequence and four OscarA(r) - nominated* performances, this rousing crowd-pleaser will send spirits soaring. Fighting for love, glory and self-respect, RockyA(r) scores an exultant knockout! Rocky Balboa (Sylvester Stallone) is a Philadelphia club fighter who seems to be going nowhere. But whena stroke of fate puts him in the ring with a world heavyweight champion, Rocky knows that it's his one shot at the big time - a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to go the distance and come out a winner! *1976: Actor (Stallone), Actress (Talia Shire), Supporting Actor (Burgess Meredith, Burt Young), Director (won), Original Screenplay, Original Song, Editing (won), Sound

The only remaining evidence that Sylvester Stallone might have had a respectable career, this 1976 Oscar winner (for Best Picture, Director, and Editing) is still the quintessential ode to an underdog and one of the best boxing movies ever made. After writing the script about a two-bit boxer who gets a "million-to-one shot" against the world heavyweight champion, Stallone insisted that he star in the title role, and his equally unknown status helped to catapult him (and this rousing film) to overnight success. The story is familiar, but it has been handled with such vitality and emotional honesty that you can't help but leap and cheer for Rocky Balboa, the chump turned champ (despite his valiant defeat in the ring) who stuns the boxing world with the support of his timid girlfriend, Adrian (Talia Shire), and grizzled trainer, Mickey (Burgess Meredith). Oscar nominations went to all the lead actors (including Burt Young as Adrian's hot-tempered brother), but four sequels could never top the universal appeal of this low-budget crowd pleaser. --Jeff Shannon

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