Ebonics is alive and well. True dat.

I just finished watching the Ravens-Cowboys game on the NFL Network.
Because of my affection for individuals like Ray Lewis and Terrell Owens, I would normally route for a tie but because I'm a Giants fan I was pulling for Baltimore.
Nonetheless, is it just me or did the announcing trio of Bob Papa, Marshall Faulk and Deion Sanders remind you of watching the game in a smoke-filled bar within an earshot of three guys who dropped out of junior high?
After listening to Marshall and Deion absolutely butcher the English language for three quarters, (i.e. - "He don't know what the defense be doin", "we was talking to him before" and "he don't wanna hear dat") I had to hit the mute button.

I couldn't resist

Yes, it's been awhile since my last post but when I saw this headline five words came to mind:

You gotta be shittin' me...

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/28118228/

The article brings several questions to mind:
(1) Will this allow more people to come out of the closet?
(2) Will this lead us to bigger and better protests such as: "Day Without An Illegal Alien?"
(3) Will this eventually motivate bisexuals to take two days off?

For the record, I have nothing against the gay and lesbian community. If you want to be gay, that's your business. And I'm sorry about Proposition 8, but there has to be better ways to get your point across than "Day Without A Gay."

Take this poll and shove it

I'm watching the end of a 10-10 game between East Carolina-Central Florida which, not surprisingly, has featured two sad-looking turnovers in the last 60 seconds of regulation. (And now another interception on the first play of overtime).
Sometimes a game doesn't deserve a winner...
Anyway, when ECU was 2-0 and every 'expert' in the country was talking about the Pirates going to a BCS bowl, I remember telling The Better Half that I would be shocked if they were still ranked on October 1st (they weren't).
That said, here's why I never put any faith in college football's preseason poll:
More than half (13 to be exact) of the teams honored with a preseason ranking are no longer in the Top 25.

Five of those have losing records; the worst of them being Arizona State (#16) at 2-6 and Michigan (#24) at 2-7.
And the current #1 team in the nation, Alabama, wasn't even ranked at the beginning of the season.

It's worth mentioning that I feel a great deal better about the alma mater's Saturday debacle after Big Blue totally dismantled Dallas. America's Team, my ass.

Does anyone have a black armband I can borrow?

Florida 49, Georgia 10.

Damn.
Bring on the fucking Peach Bowl.

I've got your award right here

A new idea from me today. Take a frown, stick it on a helmet and award to the saddest performances from today's college football slate. Here goes...

(1) Vanderbilt. Undefeated and ranked in the top 15 for the first time since Tennessee seceded from the Union and they come up empty against lowly Mississippi State.

(2) Wisconsin. The preseason #12 is now 3-3 after a serious thumping by Penn State.

(3) Rutgers. You're bad and you know it. When your only win in six tries comes at the hands of Morgan State, a school most people couldn't find on a map, basketball season can't come soon enough.

Here's your helmet. Wear it with pride.
If I had my way, teams would actually have to wear this...

Surprise, surprise

Pacman Jones involved in fight at hotel

And next week, the Cowboys will announced they've signed O.J. Simpson.

Question of the day

Who does the better impression? Tiny Fey playing Sarah Palin or Sarah Palin playing Sarah Palin?

Think about it...

What's wrong with this picture?

With regards to the likes of Terrell Owens, Plaxico Burress and Chad Johnson, here's a question...

Why is it that the more talented you are, the more shit people allow you to get away with?

Way too much time on their hands

If ANY of my tax dollars went toward this, someone's getting a big-ass beating.

Kudos

Congratulations to Mike Mussina, who finally turned in his first 20-win season in his 18th year in the major leagues and now has 270 victories in his career.

He's still 0-2 against The University of Georgia and probably still harbors suicidal tendencies after giving up three hits to me...but congratulations anyway.

Logo overload

With college football on the brain, I found a website that displays college football helmets, both past and present. Some of the designs hurt my eyes.

So here's a quick quiz. Guess who? (answers below)

12
34
56
78
910

Answers
1 - Arizona ('76)
2 - Cincinnati ('89)
3 - Florida State ('62)
4 - Hawaii ('74)
5 - Idaho ('81)
6 - Kansas State ('88)
7 - Kentucky ('72)
8 - Marshall ('75)
9 - Maryland ('71)
10 - Memphis ('89)

Now here's some that just fall under the category of "what were they thinking?"
12
34
56
78
910
1112

1 - Boise State ('96)
2 - West Virginia ('79)
3 - Connecticut ('75)
4 - Hawaii ('98)
5 - Iowa State ('79)
6 - Kansas State ('66)
7 - Wake Forest ('86)
8 - Alabama-Birmingham ('07)
9 - Tulane ('82)
10 - Temple ('08)
11 - Northwestern ('79)
12 - Louisiana-Lafayette ('97)

My dog just chews my socks

And in a related story, my father's dog once brought a cow's umbilical cord back to his work van one afternoon.

Where I sat

The Yankees-Orioles game has just finished and it got me to thinking about the games I attended. So I took a seating chart of The House That Ruth Built and blackened in the sections I (vaguely) remember sitting in.

In addition, I put a (rather large) "X" on the first base position in honor of the one and only game I actually played at Yankee Stadium, as a member of the New Jersey High School All-Stars against the New York H.S. All-Stars.

For the record, we won, and I went 1-for-3 with a single through the right side in my first at-bat.

Ah, the memories.

Job security

I don't really care if the Milwaukee Brewers make the playoffs or not.
But I will say this...
If they don't, General Manager Doug Melvin should lose his job and return his entire salary for firing Manager Ned Yost after 150 games.
But if they do, will interim manager Dale Sveum get any votes for Manager of the Year?

Dear Kat DeLuna,
Getting the opportunity to sing The Star Spangled Banner on Monday Night Football is not an excuse for you to turn it into a strip-tease, Britney Spears-inspired cover song.
If the citizens of Texas boo someone for singing The National Anthem, there's a pretty good reason. Chances are, you sucked.

(I refuse to officially air this on my site. Here's the link to it, if you're curious.)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j5dXH_M2suM

My prediction

The kickoff for the USC-Ohio State game is seconds away. Here's my prediction:

USC - 52
Ohio State - 14

In my humble opinion, this is the most overblown story of the young college football season. I don't give a rat's ass that they haven't played since 1990.
And for the record, I am NOT a USC fan by any stretch of the imagination. I'm actually pulling for OSU. I just don't think this is going to be close at all.

In addition, I believe Brent Musberger will be as annoying, and as over-the-top as ever.

Cheers.

Actual final - USC-35, Ohio State 3.
I guess I gave both offenses more credit than they deserved. But at least I was right in that it wasn't close. I still can't stand USC or Pete Carroll for that matter.

Oh no you "dih-in"

Ask anyone who knows me and they'll tell you how much I despise television commercials due to their general ignorance and lack of originality.
However, I was watching the Evil Empire the other night and came across this absolute beauty.
The lyrics just kill me, figuratively speaking.



And if you didn't get enough of the 30-second version, here's the full song.

What's worse?

The fact that some youth baseball league in New Haven, Connecticut banned a 9-year-old from pitching because he was "too good" and that his fastball was "frightening to opposing batters"...

OR...

The fact that the kid's parents are suing the league for an undisclosed amount of money.

Here's my take:

Refusing to let a kid play because he's "too good" is EVERY FUCKING THING that is wrong with youth sports today. What are these kids supposed to do when they're older?
"I'm sorry Jimmy, but your commission for the year was so much more than the rest of the employees in our company that we have to fire you."
I hate to sound like some Nike commercial but guess what? Sports is about competition. There are winners and losers. It's unavoidable.
In today's current atmosphere of "everyone gets a trophy", what are our kids learning, that striving for mediocrity is what it's all about?
It's impossible for everyone to be #1.
So stop overprotecting your kids. Let them find out how good (or bad) they really are. You'll do them (and the rest of the world) a huge favor by letting them discover their strengths and weaknesses.
Some people are meant to be professional baseball players.
Some are meant to be accountants.
And there's nothing wrong with either.

One on the other hand, any judge who agrees to give this family even one dime should be removed from the bench. You want to sue the league to let your kid play? That's fine with me. But asking for money? The last time I checked, 9-year-olds don't get paid to play.

If you can't tell, this issue has pissed me off just a tad.

But I feel better now.

How about checking my hangnail?

From the "You Gotta Be Shittin' Me" department:

OLYMPIAN KICKS REFEREE IN THE FACE



Okay, admit it.
Anyone who competed in an athletic event wanted to do
something like this at one time or another.

But here's the thing. We didn't.
This mental midget not only followed through on his lack of self-control but did it AT THE OLYMPICS. Nice career move.

Funny enough, the guy was disqualified for taking too much injury time after hurting his leg.

This takes "open mouth, insert foot" to a whole new level...

Let the speculation begin

Now that Osi Umenyiora is done for the season, how many "Michael Strahan mulling return" stories are we going to be inundated with over the next month?

Where's the blank tile?

Why does it seem as though every celebrity with a newborn goes about naming it like they were forced to use a bad batch of Scrabble letters?

The latest case in point - Zuma Nesta Rock Rossdale. (Gwen Stefani's latest bundle of joy).

Kill me. Kill me now.

For the record, here's some other future playground fodder.
"Bluebell Madonna" - (offspring of Geri Halliwell, aka Ginger Spice).
"Destry" - (Steven Spielberg and Kate Capshaw).
"Hopper" - (Sean Penn and Robin Wright).
"Zola Ivy" - (Eddie Murphy and Nicole Mitchell).
"Aanisah" - (Macy Gray).
"Aurelius Cy" - (Elle Macpherson and Arpad Busson).
"Heavenly Hiraani Tiger Lily" - (Paula Yates and Michael Hutchence).

There are those who shouldn't be allowed to reproduce. Then there's those who are too egotistical to remember that the kid is the one who has to live with the name.

Here's a thought

For the last two days, all anyone covering the Olympics can talk about is how unfair the judging is in women's gymnastics. So here's my suggestion as to how to fix it.
Get rid of the event.
ANYTHING, and I mean anything, that relies on any kind of judging to determine the outcome should be removed. You can have your World Championships and whatever other kind of events you want, you just can't be in the Olympics.
The Olympic ideal is about being the fastest or the strongest.
Run faster than everyone else, here's a gold medal. I don't care if your form isn't pretty, just get there first.
If you think about it, all anybody does is bitch about the judging. So my solution is absolutely ideal.
It would also save us the trouble of trying to understand what the hell Bela Karolyi is saying.

Open foot, insert extremely big mouth

To: Alain Bernard,
Anchor
French Olympic Swim Team

Re: 4X100 Relay

Dear Alain,
Talk shit, eat shit.

Sincerely,
The Hitman

P.S. - Enjoy the silver

Things that surprise...and things that don't

What didn't...

That NBC found a way to drag out what probably was at most a three-hour Olympic Opening Ceremony to a excruciating four-and-a-half hours of their own version of commercial-filled Chinese water torture.

That I watched all four-and-a-half hours. (What an asshole.)

What did...

That 2008 Tai Chi experts managed to form and maintain a perfect circle throughout their routine. Impressive...most impressive.

Where's Joyce?

As I watched ESPN to catch up on the day's sports news, I was sickened to death at the amount of Brett Favre coverage. And I really like Brett Favre.

Actually, what bothered me more than anything else was the sheer number of "experts" the Evil Empire found it necessary to put in front of the camera to comment on the most over-analyzed story on the face of the planet.

In just a 15-minute span, the worldwide leader let two studio anchors and seven NFL Live analysts barf out any and every opinion they could think of. That doesn't even include the three on-site reporters who filed stories.

And so I thought back to a scene from that classic movie, The Naked Gun, in which the eight announcers, including Dr. Joyce Brothers, are jammed into a broadcast booth for the Dodgers-Angels game.

That was 1988 and a marginal joke at best.

Now it's 2008 and ESPN was dead serious.

And while I'm at it...

Having grown up in New Jersey and witnessed the overall lack of sportsmanship of Jets fans over the years, I officially give Favre two interceptions before the crowd starts screaming, "We want Chad. We want Chad."

Down but not out

Easy Reader LIVES ON!!!

Hold on to your hats

Team RBI won its first (and only) game of the summer Friday afternoon with a 9-5 victory over the San Antonio Hackers.
And then reality set in for the remainder of the weekend...

vs Shari D-backs - Lost 15-3
vs Central Texas Sun Devils - Lost 13-1
vs San Antonio Gators - Lost 10-2

The games were uglier than the scores would indicate.
For the record, Team RBI finished the season 1-13.

Headlines that make me shake my head

Now I ask you, why is ANY of this considered real news?

'Vietnam to free Gary Glitter this month'
'Man beheads girlfriend on Santorini island'
'Men end up happier than women'
'Study confirms 'Kevin Bacon' theory'
'Nuggets couldn't win big, so they're giving up'
'Stern claims he didn't threaten ex-Sonics owner'
'Dan Quayle won't 'Dance''

There's fighting, and then there's this...

Any sports fan has already seen the footage of last night's Peoria Chiefs-Dayton Dragons bench-clearing fight.
As a former player who has seen a few "incidents" over the years, I can say this fight was just like any other...except for one part.
Two things to keep a eye on; part one is easy. Watch the Peoria pitcher take the ball and wing it toward the Dayton dugout.
Part two - keep an eye on the Peoria coach and check out the look on his face when he realizes the throw ended up flying into the stands and off the face of some fan. After that, in my opinion, it's just your run-of-the-mill fight.
Here you go:

Good afternoon, and welcome to Yankee Stadium...

Although I didn't arrive home until 9:30 p.m. Tuesday night, I did manage to keep my eyes open long enough to watch the remainder of the All-Star Game.
As the game moved into extra innings, it reminded me of my first-ever trip to Yankee Stadium...

August 22, 1976. I was 7.

On what I remember as an extremely hot Sunday afternoon, the Yankees hosted the California Angels in the finale of a three-game series. The Angels were well-mired in the second division of the AL West and boasted a starting lineup full of players who weren't even household names in their own home: Dave Chalk, Terry Humphrey, Bob Jones and Tolia Soliata, just to name a few.
The Yankees, meanwhile, featured Lou Piniella, Thurman Munson, Chris Chambliss, Graig Nettles and Willie Randolph not to mention starting pitcher and future Hall of Famer Catfish Hunter and were on their way to winning the AL East.
Oh yes, I almost forgot. It was Bat Day. And we're not talking "Yankee Bat Day, brought to you 7-Eleven", some prefabricated piece of recycled pulp the stadium workers hand to you on your way out of the stadium. I mean the 34-inch, 32-ounce, Mickey Rivers model that found its way into my hands as I passed through the turnstiles on my way to box seats about 10-15 rows behind the third-base dugout. I held onto the bat well into my teens until I finally snapped it around the trunk of a tree in the park behind my house simply because I wanted to see what it felt like to get jammed.
If only I'd been patient enough to wait until I started playing pro ball, I'd still have it.
Future memories not withstanding, the game turned into a real snoozer as Catfish Hunter didn't make it out of the 7th inning (a rare occurrence at the time) and left to at least 50,000 boos with the Yankees losing 4-0.
With the help of the Toyota Bullpen Car, out stepped some reliever I'd never heard of named Ron Guidry. Little did my 7-year-old mind realize I was watching a guy who two years later would go 25-3 and win the Cy Young. But this was the Guidry of '76.
So after unceremoniously allowing the two baserunners he inherited from Hunter to score to make it 6-0, he served up another pair of runs in the 8th. By the time the Yankees came to bat in the bottom of the ninth they were trailing 8-0 and most of the fans had left.
But not us. Well, I should say, not me. While my parents were all for heading home, I was steadfast in my desire to watch the entire game. Deep down, I must have known a rally was in the works.
Angel pitcher Frank Tanana had owned the Yankees for eight innings, giving up just two hits. But in the ninth he finally ran out of steam. Miraculously, New York scored eight runs in the bottom of the ninth to tie the game, the final two coming on a home run by Roy White. Somewhere in the deep recesses of the New York Times library there is a front page picture of White stomping on home plate as the fans cheered. Well in the background you can see me, shirtless, holding my Mickey Rivers bat high in the air in celebration. (It should be noted that Tanana won 19 games in '76. Had he or his bullpen been able to hold an 8-run lead, he would have been a 20-game winner for the first and only time in his career.)
When the game moved into extra innings the Yankees brought Sparky Lyle into pitch, a man I’d coach with some twenty-plus years later. In the 11th, however, the Angels pushed three runs across the plate and held on to win 11-8.
Over the years, I had a chance to attend a number of games at The House That Ruth Built, including the opening game of the '81 Series, but I will always remember my first trip to the Bronx as the most exciting.

Money, well...spent

Laziness sets in during teen years

"One of the largest studies of its kind shows just how sluggish American children become once they hit the teen years: While 90 percent of 9-year-olds get a couple of hours of exercise most days, fewer than 3 percent of 15-year-olds do. The National Institute of Child Health and Human Development funded the research, calling it one of the largest, most comprehensive studies of its kind to date. "

"The latest study...tracked about 1,000 U.S. children at various ages, from 2000 to 2006."

7 years to figure out teenagers are lazy? You gotta be shittin' me.

If you are one of the individuals who has helped fund or sent a special donation to the National Institute of Child Health and Human Development...boy did you get screwed.

And if any of my tax money unknowingly went toward this "National Institute", I want a refund.

My bad

My apologies to all eight of you who voted in the All-Star poll for not including "neither" as one of the possible selections.

Suicide watch for Bud Selig

It's 12:35 p.m., EST (11:35 p.m. in Hippo Central)

Do YOU know who's going to win the All-Star Game?

Points to Ponder

As I watch the Home Run Derby, I have come to the following realizations:

(1) Josh Hamilton is pretty damn good, and he didn't even win.
(2) I can only pray I'm able to throw batting practice at age 71.
(3) Joe Morgan needs to go away. I don't necessarily care where, just as long as he goes.
(4) Bring on The British Open.

Yes, I'm alive

For the small number of you actually reading this...I'm back.
After flying back to Hutto on the 6th, I spent an extremely uneventful week preparing for a ride to San Antonio for Team RBI's latest tournament.
And it wasn't pretty.

Game 1 - Lost - 8-0.
Game 2 - Lost - 13-2.
Game 3 - Lost - 11-5.
Game 4 - Lost - 5-1.

There's nothing quite like sitting in 100+ degree temperatures getting your ass kicked over and over and over. And over.
The only highpoint of the weekend was the fact that my truck survived the 2-hour drive there and back.
Actually, I need to retract that statement.
The true highlight occured during our Game 3 loss. I caught the opposition's first base coach stealing signs from our catcher and verbally relaying them to the hitters. Oh, the score was already 7-0.
So after our pitcher served up Ball Four to yet another hitter, I walked out to the mound and told our catcher to cover up his legs a little more.
When he asked me why, I pointed over to the 1st base coach and said, "so this jackass stops stealing the signs."
With the coach now looking at me, I leaned over and said, "that's how guys get hit."
If you know anything about baseball, you know exactly what I'm saying.
Unfortunately, the base umpire didn't, and promptly asked me if I was "threatening the other coach."
"No," I said, somewhat calmly. "I just wanted to let him know I know he's relaying signs and that I don't appreciate it. If he's a 'baseball guy', he understands."
Honestly, I really don't care if the guy understood or not.

An artwork's place of honor

An interesting twist to working two weeks worth of baseball camps in New Jersey is that I get to stay at my parents' house. They've made a few changes to the place in the last 20 years - new kitchen, new downstairs bathroom as well as adding a ton of plants and trees to the backyard to ruin what was the best wiffleball field in town.

However, one major staple has remained. In the downstairs bathroom hangs a drawing my father found irresistible. It's always been there. And they've lived in this house for more than 30 years.

So thanks to the power of the scanner, and without further adieu, I give you, "Eight Chins."

If you have ever been in my parents' home and used the facilities, you know you counted.

If not, I invite you to check. They're all there, trust me.

This week's dead giveaway that the end, in fact, is at hand.


Starbucks to shut down 600 stores
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It's time

I have never been a big soccer fan.
Actually, let's rephrase that. I hate soccer with a fucking passion. In fact, the only individuals on the soccer field I have any respect for are the goalies and the referees because they're allowed to use their hands.
And after ESPN (henceforth to be known as The Evil Empire - thank you Jersey Girl) jammed highlights and advertisements of Euro 2008 down my throat when all I really wanted was a Yankees-Mets score, I have decided to enlighten today's blog by listing some rule changes I would like to see to make the game more Hitman-Friendly.

Rule Change 1 - Add more balls.
This amendment has unlimited potential. Let's add three to start with including one that's a different color from the rest which counts as two points. Television could divide the screen up into four sections so as not to miss any action.

Rule Change 2 - Use a ball loaded with explosives and a timer.
Strictly geared toward the soccer fan who refuses to wash his Arsenal jersey until they beat Manchester United.
At some point, someone's going to die.
Play of course does not stop and there's no added injury time because, well, the guy's not exactly injured. And imagine the suspense.
Limit: one Decom-ball per game. We've got to stop the carnage somewhere.

Rule Change 3 - No blood, no foul
Unless the player's femur is visible, play continues. This speeds up the game and prevents players from faking injury. Should someone take a dive unnecessarily he opens himself up to an immediate pummeling by the opposition until he can get off or is dragged off the playing field.

Rule Change 4 - Shorten the playing field.
Currently, the official dimensions of a soccer field is roughly the size of Boston. Anything smaller would be greatly appreciated.

Rule Change 5 - Provide each team with one non-lethal weapon.
To be used, as needed. Acceptable items include: whip, stun-gun, rubber grenades, fogger, tear gas. Teams may employ attack dogs as a substitute.

Should all five rule changes be accepted, the following shall also be instituted.

Effect #1 - If the game is scoreless at halftime, an additional goal will be added at each end of the field. Teams are not permitted to add a goalie.

Effect #2 - If the game is still scoreless at the end of regulation, each team's goalie will be permanently removed from the game. This includes shoot-outs.

Effect #3 - The team that fails to score will be immediately disbanded following the game.

Don't even get me started on field hockey...

A card-carrying member

In the middle of a somewhat sleepless night, I stumbled across the Stephen A. Smith Heckling Society of Gentlemen.

If, like me, you can't hit the mute button on your remote fast enough anytime this asshole opens his mouth, you will undoubtedly appreciate the following 9 minutes of video:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NaqxreC2wgo

I only wish I had thought of this first.

The House of Love

Today is an extremely boring Friday in New Jersey (here for two weeks working various baseball camps).

Between naps, I came across the greatest woman in China. Unbelievable.

The status quo sucks

Please remove your hats while we honor the passing of a true legend...

Some timeless quotes:

"Inside every cynical person, there is a disappointed idealist."

"Not only do I not know what's going on, I wouldn't know what to do about it if I did."

"I went to a bookstore and asked the saleswoman, 'Where's the self-help section?' She said if she told me, it would defeat the purpose."

And my latest favorite:

"You know the good part about all those executions in Texas? Fewer Texans."

Amen, George. Amen.

An Olympian apocalypse

The evening news reported that there will be a "rock, paper, scissors" championship tournament
in Beijing this summer to coincide with the Olympic games.
After initially thinking the anchor was telling me that RPS was an actual Olympic game, I wanted to slit my wrists.
"What the fuck is next," I thought. "Staring contests?"

After a little research, I discovered the following:

www.worldrps.com - The official strategy guide
Are you shittin' me? You've got three fucking choices.

With a few more clicks, I found this:
www.petitiononline.com/2016rps/petition.html - an actual on-line petition to include RPS as an Olympic sport for the 2016 games.
I did not add my name to the list of supporters

And finally, one of the saddest things I've ever seen...
http://100percentinjuryrate.blogspot.com/2007/09/rock-paper-scissors-gets-out-of-hand.html

After realizing there were more than 400,000 links devoted to RPS, I have come to the conclusion that alot of people have way too much time on their hands. And considering I spent my valuable time surfing the subject, so do I.

Finally...

The better half's car is finally getting its' windows tinted with heat-reducing material.
Nothing quite like driving around in a sauna on wheels.
Thank God for technology...

Random rantings

On a day when the temperature reached the 100+ plateau for the fourth day in a row here in Texas, I came up with the following thoughts:

(1) Somebody please tell Cindy McCain she's 54, not 24.
(2) When Tiger has surgery on his knee, will it be on pay-per-view?
(3) Willie Randolph got the shaft.

Save Your Money

On Sunday, the better half and I went to see The Happening.

It wasn't.

Get a room

As I watch the US Open (I love golf), I'm having a hard time deciding who spends more time behind the microphone providing verbal deep-throat for Tiger Woods Inc.?

(1) Dan Hicks
(2) Jim Nantz
(3) Bob Costas
(4) Stuart Scott

I'm willing to take a poll...
Personally, my money's on Nantz.

For the record, I love Tiger Woods and I know he's the best in the world. I just wish the coverage were a little less obviously biased.

Everything I Know About Women...

With Father's Day fast approaching, I thought it would be quite appropriate to share with you the most important piece of advice my father ever gave me with regard to the opposite sex.

Rule #1 - Never start an argument.
Rule #2 - If you somehow find yourself in an argument, get out of it as quickly as possible.
Rule #3 - Know the menstrual cycle.

While I know I will never master the first two rules, I have yet to have any problems with the third, judging by the fact that my wife and I have no children nor has there been a surprise knock at the door.

I had nothing to say...until today

So I've had this site for...well, sometime now but I kept avoiding a "first post" because I didn't feel I had anything exciting to write about.

That changed this past weekend.

For those of you who have no idea who I am or what I do, here's a quick synopsis.

I'm a baseball coach, teaching private lessons in Pflugerville, Texas. Over the years, I've coached at the high school, college and professional levels. More about that some other time.

For the summer, I agreed to coach a 16-under team based out of the center where I teach.


Our first tournament was this past weekend centered in the lovely metropolis of Waco, Texas. (No, I did not check out the tour of the Branch Davidian compound.)


Now, the story of the weekend was not the fact that our team was mercilessly pounded three times (8-3, 13-1, 15-6), nor the fact that I watched our boys commit 8 errors in Game One and another 7 errors in Game 2.


The BIG deal was the drive home. After feeling my steering wheel shake uncontrollably all day Saturday, I simply assumed my alignment was off but figured I could get it taken care of on Monday.


However, about 30 miles outside of Waco, my front left tire literally exploded.
Here's some pictures to prove it although they don't quite do the experience total justice.





Truthfully, I was lucky the car didn't flip on me because when the tire blew, my car started to veer hard to the left.
Somewhere in between I remembered my old driver's education class back in high school and pumped the brakes.

Abruptly going from 75 mph to zero on three tires isn't all that easy but I managed to bring the car to a stop, albeit up against the concrete median in the far left shoulder.

Three hours later, my car and I were delivered to the local Firestone repair shop where I came to the final conclusion that the sadness I experienced after getting drummed three times pales in comparison to the relief I felt knowing I hadn't died on the drive home.

Trust me when I tell you my future posts will be much lighter in nature...