WANNA SMELL LIKE tennis balls? Demeter, the New York--based fragrance company known for reproducing distinctive scents—baby powder, Laundromat and dirt, to name a few—has a new offering, the aroma that escapes when one opens a fresh can of tennis balls. This, of course, spurred a few thoughts about other sports-related smells ripe for replication.
Pine needles and azaleas intertwined with a whiff of never being good enough.
A mix of sunflower seeds and bubblegum. It's the smell of time ticking ceaselessly away.
Leather, rubber and plastic with overtones of superiority—foul, but no one ever seems to call it on this.
Odorless, colorless, tasteless—yet inspires a blind aimless rage directed at the void.
A blend of Bengay and rubbing alcohol, tinged with the acrid stench of human suffering.
Ivy, fresh-cut grass and Old Style beer with a hint of dread and impending doom.
Sunscreen and salt-air scent that stings the skin like a teammate's congratulatory butt slap.
Mint juleps, saddle leather, Kentucky clay mud and a top note of old money.
THEY SAID IT
"IT FELT LIKE I HAVEN'T BEEN OUT THERE FOR SEVEN MONTHS."
Jets quarterback describing his first practice after a holdout that ran from Jan. 4 to July 27, when he agreed to a one-year, $12 million contract.
SIGN OF THE APOCALYPSE
When he found out receiver Josh Doctson was injured, Washington GM Scot McCloughan punched a wall and injured himself.