No NBA? No Problem!!

So the latest drama in the world of professional sports surrounds the inability for owners and players to decide how to share many, many millions of dollars.  Hummm.....  I have a few thoughts on that.  Still, we the fans are faced with the very good chance of missing an entire NBA season.

How do I feel about that?  Well, I think the absence of prima donnas  walking up and down the hardwood in search of their next 1-1 matchup... won't cause me to lose any sleep.  So we won't see the high-flying slam dunks or the flops in search of a foul.  We won't get to see grown men behave like babies when they are whistled for a foul and somehow feel the need to argue and throw their hands in the air in disbelief.

What happened to the days of David Robinson, Charles Barkley, Michael Jordan, Magic Johnson, Hakeem Olajuwon  and Dominique Wilkins?  This was an era of true NBA hoops.  There was respect, athleticism, competitiveness and passion.  Sure they scared many of us with the short shorts and high fade hair cuts.  Still, they played the game it was intended to be played.  They hustled, dove on the floor, shared the basketball and played team defense.  There wasn't any flopping or crying to officials.  There wasn't multi-million dollar punks with Slick Rick agents up in the suite.  It was a time for the game to be the game.

So, if we are faced with winter without Kobe, Lebron and attitude..... I think we will survive.  Don't fret as there is an entirely different option for us hoop fans.  It's called the NCAA!!  It will remind you of why you love the game and why you really don't like the NBA.  A bunch of kids leaning on the memory of the movie "Hoosiers" and dreaming of the next level.  Still pure, honest and with ethics, these kids play the game hard and with pride.  They are representing their schools, friends and families.  They don't have agents driving cars that auto-park themselves.  They don't have endorsements and contracts that taint them and push them to believe they can't get wet in the shower.  They are people just like you and me.  They are basketball players.  So enjoy a basketball season in the college world and start printing out as many March Madness brackets as you can.

Yes, you can still wear the Carmelo Anthony jersey you spent way too much for.

Really? Driving gloves???

Okay, when I think about driving gloves, I think about some high rollin’ cat in Italy racing around in his Ferrari!  I think about mountain roads filled with incredible scenery and an occasional hair-pin turn that needs managed.  You know, like what you see in a commercial or Hollywood flick. 

This morning, I caught a glimpse of the driving gloves right here in my own backyard.  It’s 7:15 in the morning and I’ve started the joyous trek that is my normal commute.  I’m sippin’ on some coffee and listening to anything that isn’t Beyonce.  Just minding my own business.  Then, out of nowhere, pulls up this blue Porche 911.  It was sweet.  As I glanced over to take in the machine, I caught a glimpse of the driver… a man in his early 40’s and dressed nicely with the wavy hair and unnecessary sunglasses.  I thought to myself, “now here’s a dude that has some place to go”.  As a started to return my eyes to the light in anticipation of GREEN, I saw them.  Right there and perched upon his steering wheel.  DRIVING GLOVES!!!

So, it isn’t cold enough to require gloves on the morning commute.  30 degrees is very tolerable and from my initial assessment, I’m guessing this guy has a garage where he keeps this blue beauty.  So, the gloves can’t be to support the frigid climate as I’m assuming he didn’t take a step out into the elements, but instead just plopped down in the plush leather of his drivers’ seat.  Could the gloves be for performance driving?  Maybe – but there isn’t much opportunity for performance driving in the hustle and bustle of the rat race on a Monday morning.  I don’t get it!!  Is it just a fashion statement that escapes my average Joe style?  Perhaps the driving accessories came with the ride and he signed some pact that states he will forever don the gloves while pushing the 400+hp?  I don’t know.  What I do know is that I saw a dude wearing driving gloves. 

I don’t care what you drive.  I don’t care how cool your hair is.  There is no place for driving gloves.  To prove my point, I think I will race out and get some Isotoners on sale and sport them on my drive home.  I will wear them as if I have some place to be and all others should question their own selves and have to answer the question why they aren’t cool enough.  I shall collect laugher, finger-pointing and hopefully a harassing honk to prove my point!

What a waste!

One of the best couple of weeks in the year…. The World Series!  For baseball fans around the country, it’s a time when the summer past time rolls into fall and the elite shine.  Whether your team is in it, or you’re simply adopting one of the final two teams competing for the pennant, it’s a wonderful time of the year. 

On Sunday night, there were 49,170 fans wearing Texas Rangers colors – and a few sporting the Cardinals gear – as game 4 got underway.  As I watched the game from my recliner in the family room, I think about what a wonderful event this is and what a true blessing it is for those fans who scored tickets to the game.  Again, it doesn’t matter if you’re a fan of the game or not, simply being in attendance for one of sports’ great occasions is amazing  and a true privilege.  Maybe even a once in a lifetime opportunity?

So can someone tell me why, why in the name of all that is good and holy in this world, would a chick sitting front row behind home plate feel the need to be on her phone for the entire game?  Come on man!  You have to be kidding me.  I get it, you might want to take a picture and then post it to your Facebook, LinkedIn or Twitter account so all of your “Friends” can see how cool you are and be reminded of their lifetime of failures.  Still, that effort should only take 3 minutes at the most.  This girl had her head buried in her keyboard for the majority of the game.  I would see the batter dig into the box, spit over his shoulder and peer back at the pitcher.  Then, I would glance behind the batter to see this knucklehead missing the entire thing.  One of the most frustrating feelings I’ve had in some time.

I wanted so badly to obtain her mobile number, call her from my chair and give her the business.  What a waste.  Not just of money paid for the tickets, but a waste of a seat that a true baseball fan would have killed for.  I realize we’re quickly becoming a country of tiny letters and sore thumbs, but you have to know when to put the damned phone down.  If you can’t understand this, perhaps you should avoid any public setting, or sporting event or anything that requires actual eye contact and social skills.  There is a place for peeps like this, and it ISN’T front row at the World Series!!! 

Please, let us come together and realize there is more to life than updating your status every 5 minutes with information that nobody really cares about.  Don’t allow yourself to be defined by 55 characters or less.  Be someone, be present and be an individual.  If you have tickets to game 5 of the series and can’t seem to find the strength to fight the mainstream addiction that pulls all your focus and energy from that tiny brain of yours…. Please mail me your tickets and I will go in your place… with my phone left at home.

Mystery Sunroof Attack!

Stunned.  Curious.  Mystified.

On Tuesday of this week, I entered my garage as I do every morning in preparation for making “The Man” look good.  I tote my laptop case and cup o Joe towards my car that is quietly resting in its place.  As I near the ride, I notice something on top of the car.  What in the #$(*&#$?????  As I squint to the seal that surrounds my sunroof, I notice it has been damaged.  Damaged in a way that is unexplainable!  There are some small pieces of the rubberized material sitting on the roof of the car and right next to the glass.  What in the ##$(*&$????? 

What could have caused this?  Was it a bird sitting atop the car that was pecking on the material?  Can’t be as the loose pieces would have flown off during my commute from here to there.  This happened while I was asleep and the car was parked in the garage.  Was it a mouse?  No… I mean, how could a mouse climb onto the top of my sweet ride?  Wouldn’t it slide off while trekking up the windshield or rear glass window?  Besides, there was no evidence of paw, claw, tail or otherwise present on the car.  Could the rodent be a fan of Tom Cruise movies and actually repelled from the roof as to not make their presence known?  Come on… that would take at least 3 mice to pull of such a stunt with all the cables and planning!

And what is so special about the rubber material that surrounds the sunroof?  My wife’s car that sits right next to mine is untouched!  Does my sunroof reek of an odor that is irresistible?  Again… what in the #$)(*)#$?????

So I chalked it up to some freak thing that nobody could ever explain.  I went through my day on Wednesday, repeating my usual routine filled with unnecessary meetings all day and football practice to end.  I parked in my spot as usual and called it a day.  As I started my Thursday in the same fashion as the day prior, I approach my car to find the same frickin’ thing has happened!!!  You gotta be kidding me!!  What in the #$#$()**?????  Again, I look all through the car, the trunk, the ceiling of the garage (inspecting for cables and tiny mouse gloves) and there is no sign of an attack beyond the little rubber pieces that are left on the roof.  Now it’s getting personal!

So before bed last night, I get out my materials in search of the sweetest revenge.  I have two of the sticky pads that encourage tiny assailants to hop on.  One on the floor and the other on top of my car next to the crime scene.  I then get the old fashioned wood-based trap that holds the tastiest of cheeses.  Yeah, it’s go time.  Go ahead and judge me for my tactics and call PETA (People Eating Tasty Animals).  I’m out for victory and closure.  Besides, the humane traps don’t work because they don’t mean business.  I set the scene and head off to bed with extreme anticipation for what I might find in the morning.

This morning, I grab my coffee and laptop bag and quickly make way to the garage.  Trap one with the cheap cheddar is empty.  Ugh.  Trap two is the sticky pad between the cars… empty.  Ugh.  Then, I glance to the top of my car and there is a raccoon asleep.  Just kidding.  That would scare the pee outta me!  The third trap was also empty.  The sunroof experienced no further violation during the night.  What in the #$#*($&#???? 

So, I’m thinking I will repeat my efforts from last night and hope I’m smarter than the criminal.  I want this thing done and I want to send a message.  I’m hoping that whatever is responsible for the damage is served sweet justice.  I want the message sent to any critter in my hood that things don’t play like that at my casa.  So, wish me luck as I battle the evil forces that seem to have it out for me and my transportation.  I shall be victorious (or be without an entire seal for my sunroof).  Stay tuned…..

Okay, what's up with baby corn??

There are some things in this world that can pull off being small.  There are small dinner portions, small iPods, small cars, small font, small babies and even small victories.  But what I can’t accept is small corn!  What is the purpose of this tiny vegetable?  It makes its appearance from time to time on your plate – usually in a Chinese dish but it’s been spotted in Thai food and Indian food as well.  Where does this stop?  While I would like to give you the positives surrounding this miniature cousin of corn on the cob, I can’t as I’ve never eaten it.  When I see it on my plate, I simply mock it for its size and then push it to the side for later delivery to the trash!

I’m quite certain that it can’t taste like a nice, buttery corn on the cob and surely you can’t manage to get the corn on the cob pokers into the sides of them.  If someone were to try and eat it as if it was the appropriately sized version on the cob, can you imagine the weird looking face of the eater?  Pushing your teeth out as far as possible and then taking tiny little bites to remove the kernels.  Not good.  Every time I have seen them, they appear soggy and bland.  They are kinda wobbly and bouncy at the same time.  So tell me… what is the purpose?  Are they on the plate simply to get made fun of?  Do people actually eat these little things?  I have to think that they aren’t intended to be eaten, but instead are present to fill in some gaps in the plate.  Maybe the restaurant ran out of chicken or broccoli and thus had to lean on the limp spears.

Another thing… you never find these tiny beasts outside of their cob-like version.  I haven’t seen a can of itty bitty corn kernels like you see from the good people at Del Monte.  I wonder how many of these things it would take to fill up a standard 15oz. can.  Like 7 million?  It’s crazy!  When I think about it… I would have to imagine a field of Oompa Loompa’s out there hand picking these little things off the stalk, assuming there is a stalk even involved.   Maybe there is an entire village of tiny things and this little corn isn’t little in that world?  The citizens of the tiny village like to get a laugh occasionally and put a bag of their corn on the farmers’ truck and it somehow gets delivered to stores and restaurants.  Then, they sit back on their tiny little couches in the evening and laugh at those of us actually trying to eat the imposters.

Whatever it is, it’s STOOPID and must come to a stop.  Join me in boycotting all tiny corn cobs and push back on this tiny village, sending the message that we will no longer stand for it!!!

Herding Cats...

Have you ever tried herding cats?  How about substitute teaching a kindergarten class?  Ummm, what about trying to build a sand castle at high tide?

If you have, and been successful, you would make a great youth football coach!   You see, I coach a youth tackle football team made up of 5 and 6 year olds and have to share some of the fun.  Every Monday and Wednesday, the little dudes gather at the practice field in preparation for battle on Saturday.  They arrive with smiles and in full pads.  Some of them weighing in at a whopping 42 lbs and a game face that has the remains of kool-aid and pudding from their afternoon snack. 

The first challenge comes when they start off practice with their lap around the field.  Of the 16 kids on the team, there will be at least half of them that fall over during the lap as a result of their helmet weighing them down and messing with their balance.  That lap takes about 5 minutes.  Practice gets going with some drills to enhance their football skills and includes running the football, tackling and blocking.  Apparently, these little guys have some challenges in locating the ball carrier as time and time again, the runner will “speed” past the defense as the defensive guy is either dancing with the kiddo blocking them or has lost interest and asking when practice is over… right in the middle of the play.  More work needs done on the concept of tackling the ball carrier. 

Then, there is the huddle.  Yes, seems like a pretty easy thing to conquer but when you have 5 and 6 year old kids that have the attention span of a gnat, it proves a challenge.  With each offensive player assigned a particular spot in the huddle, we still find there are voids and gaps in the huddle.  The guard is where the tight end should be.  The tight end has failed to join the huddle and is chasing a grasshopper.  The center is struggling with a runny nose that is leaking into his mouthpiece that he continuously forgets to put in his mouth.  When he does put it in, he puts it upside down and complains of discomfort.  After shifting the kids into the right spots in the huddle, we call out a play.  The holes are 2, 4, 6 and 8 on the right side of the center and 1, 3, 5 and 7 on the left side of the center.   Ahh, so the running back runs through the hole called.  Yep, makes sense.  With some of the kids struggling with this concept, I tell them to practice at home.  My recommendation is to write down the numbers on sheets of paper and put them on the floor of their bedroom so they can remember.  Soon after my recommendation, a little fella raises his hand and says. “coach, I can’t read!”.  Of course….  J

Game day rolls around and the boys look great in their uniforms.  They are excited for the game, or anxious to see what the halftime snack is, but either way… they look great in their uniforms.  As we line up to get the game underway, it’s apparent that we’re out-sized.  Our team average 45lbs and some of our opponents drive themselves to the game.  I think I saw one of the opposing players kissing his wife before taking the field.  The ball is snapped and their running back runs through our distracted defense and it’s 7-0.  Now we get the ball.  The huddle “forms”, yeah… when I saw “forms”, I meant that the coaches lift and shift the kiddos into the right spot.  Then the boys take the line and get in their 3 point stances.  HIKE.. the ball is snapped and our line instantly forgets how to block and stands straight up, allowing the defensive players that are sporting goatees to smash our little running back.  Just doesn’t seem right.  This goes on for two 22 minute running halfs.  Ouch.

As the game ends, the boys are happy.  They don’t care about the score… they have wiped away the tears that resulted from a boo boo in the first half.  They are excited they got to play football and now looking for the little Gatorade bottles and Nutter Butter cookie packs to seal the day.  When they look up at you with sweaty brows and grass stained pants…. Their little faces looking for a congratulatory speech…  ahh, makes it all worth it.  The kids might have got whooped on the field, but they are football players and they are proud to be.  Herding cats is tough.  It’s stressful and frustrating at times but these little dudes trying their hardest and enjoying the game for what it is – well, that is worth the price of admission!!!  So, I’m off to create this week’s practice plan which will include huddles, tackling, blocking and a handful of fun that puts a smile on their faces …  and certainly on the coaches faces as well!  

Come on... you know it's funny!

At first I thought I was just being rude.  Then I wondered if there was something wrong with me.  Is it right that I find extreme humor and self pleasure in watching others trip, stumble and fall? 

I’m guessing that if you sit back for a minute and think about it, you too are on my side.  Think about it…. It can be a model strutting her stuff on the runway or just some stranger who is mysteriously attacked by a sidewalk gremlin as they stroll.  It’s frickin’ funny!!!  When the balance goes and then the limbs start flyin’ with every attempt to remain upright – it is something to behold.   Gravity is a nasty beast, whether it’s taking its toll on your body with new found wrinkles and sags or forcing the ketchup to hop off the shelf in the fridge and explode on the kitchen floor.  You can try to tame gravity, but you will lose. 

The other day, I watched a video of a model that was confident and proud as she stomped down the runway with her platform shoes pounding the catwalk.  Then, wait for it…. BINGO.  That lanky right leg hit a spot on the floor and it was on!  If you watch it in slow motion, it seems like it was 5 minutes of her attempting to remain graceful and hot while challenging her future that couldn’t be avoided.  It was ugly and awkward kinda like a new born giraffe getting up on all fours.   It was hilarious.  Then, the other day I was heading out of the office and to the parking garage when the dude that was hiking up the stairs in front of me seemed to have caught his wing-tipped shoe on the edge of the stair.  Oh yeah, he was done.  He dropped his bag and sunglasses as he tried to find level ground in which to collapse.  Garage sale!  I tried to keep a straight face and ask if he was okay, but I know that I had a smirk presented that I couldn’t control or hide. 

The best is sometimes post fall when the victim gathers themselves, returns to an upright position and then does the look around to see just how many witnesses there were.  It’s almost like if nobody was there to see it happen…. Did it happen at all?  YOU BET IT DID!!!  Another favorite crashing of mine involve celebs.  Recent events can display Lady Gaga hitting the floor, and Rhianna bouncing off the stage.  There is something about multi-millionaires and their inability to buy balance and grace that just tickles my fancy.

So, if you’re jonesing for a little taste of someone else’s misfortune, might I recommend airports as the many obstacles and challenges associated with travel seem to offer the highest level of return for your viewing pleasure.  If you don’t travel yourself… just sit on a bench somewhere at lunchtime and take in the fun.  Now, if this happens to you… you must realize that there are others out there like me who will be chuckling at your equilibrium-challenged self.  Don’t let that get you down.  We still love you and think you’re awesome.   Don’t be embarrassed and don’t be mad.  Know that you likely made someone else’s day with your fiasco and then give yourself a little chuckle.  Then, once you have collected yourself, apply band-aids where necessary!!