Random thoughts from the last few days:
Trying to cut back on the nights that end at 6 am. In case you're wondering: no, I'm not wearing shorts in January, Cory Solem style, but I had one pant leg rolled up. I think this picture was taken following a heated discussion regarding LL Cool J. Notice also the uncomfortable lack of space between Steve's elbow and my balls. Thank you Annie for the ridiculous picture.
With 3 minutes left in the first half in the Kansas/Nebraska game last night, Nebraska had six points. SIX. Two three pointers in the first couple minutes, then they didn't score for like 15 minutes. I don't think I've ever seen that before, and given the way Brad Nessler and Fran Frischilla were hemming and hawing and sometimes just laughing, I don't think they had either.
I have been thinking about it, and I came to the conclusion that last Wednesday and Thursday were the worst back-to-back days of my competitive sports career. On Wednesday, we played the feared Drummond's Diesel team, or as I like to call them, the "Phoenix Suns" with Travis Lindgren as Steve Nash, Joe Ford as Shawn Marion, and Jon-Jon as Paul Shirley, if he still played for them. While bullshitting with Wesley (probably the Raja Bell) before the game I decided to give him some bulletin board material. Feeling good about our two-game win streak, I told him that their undefeated season was ending tonight. He just laughed, and informed me of their new team motto: "We're gettin' 110. You comin' with us?" We won't get into details of the game, just the final score. 115-72. No, Wesley, apparently we're not coming with you. It was the worst loss of my life, unless you count the 6th grade YBL game where me, Bergman, and a bunch of kids wearing jeans lost by 60 to every other basketball player in the school.
Then, at the Townhouse on Thursday, I got killed by The Woman at miniature golf. Just killed. Down by 5 strokes already on the 15th hole, I ganked a one-footer, then threw a fit and crushed my ball into the fake plants by room 107. I thought very hard about smashing one of the fake lampposts with the putter, then instead took the ol' WD. Withdraw for the layperson. There is a 70% chance we're not playing putt-putt again.
Didn't even have a chance to get excited about Todd Helton before trade talks were "ended." I'll go out on a limb and say that at some point trade talks between the Sox and Rox (which is impossible to say without sounding amazingly gay) will be "re-opened."
Schilling back for 2008. If he wants, he can pitch until 2028. He has earned that right.
Happy Tuesday.
