Watching Football Night in America, I’m amazed at the spectacle that is Cowboys Stadium. The stadium website is currently mobbed, so I visited the Wikipedia for particulars.
I’ve stopped by Bristol Motor Speedway, just to see the venue, when there were no events going on.
I’m sure I’ll do the same, if and when my travels take me to the Metroplex.
When it comes to football, though, I am, and I remain, an AFC West fan.
-k-
Uber-Olympian Michael Phelps has been pictured in a British tabloid, taking what could only be described as an experienced bong-hit from a device that supposedly contained the Evil Reefer, quaintly referenced as cannabis in the tabloid.
British tabloids are known for gross overreactions to events; Phelps has owned up to this incident, as found here:
“I engaged in behavior which was regrettable and demonstrated bad judgment. I’m 23 years old, and despite the successes I have had in the pool, I acted in a youthful and inappropriate way, not in a manner that people have come to expect from me. For this, I am sorry. I promise my fans and the public — it will not happen again.”
Who cares? Why is there a certain class of people who are persistently elevated to some status where they are almost required to live in a Ward and June Cleaver fantasyland, doing no wrong, while the rest of the world is nasty and brutish? Who made the USOC some kind of guardians of images and values? To Michael, I’d say people’s expectations are irrelevant; it’s your life, and your choices. Cannabis smoking is probably the least of the so what? things you could have done.
I’d also bet Michael knows how to run TurboTax, unlike some Cabinet officials.
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The Winter X Games on ESPN are pretty cool. Where else can one see a snowmobile turning a 360o flip in midair?
This should tide me over until Daytona.
-k-
Let’s recap: four NFL playoff games this weekend; 3 played.
Number of my teams of choice that have won: 0.
NCAA Basketball:
The Kansas Jayhawks lost1.
Last NFL Game: San Diego vs Pittsburgh. My heart’s choice: San Diego2. Probable winner: Pittsburgh. Nonetheless, hope springs eternal, and I’ll be rooting for the winner of this one to claim all the NFL marbles.
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No secret to readers here, I’m an AFC west fan when it comes to gridiron extravaganzas. Specifically, I love the Kansas City Chieves. With their 1-10 record, going on 1-100 for this season, Kansas City is not gonna be a playoff team this year.
My alternate team is the Raiders, who have rivalled the Chieves in abject futility this year.
Until today: Oakland 31, Denver 10.
Hot damn! AFC West fans do *not* like Denver.
My work here is done.
-k-
We all know the line: College Football: Just a game, Like a triple bypass is minor surgery. We laugh, take another swig o’beer, and life goes on. Only when it doesn’t:
2 dead in argument after Alabama-LSU game
Good grief. In the no shit, Sherlock category, TFA says:
alcohol may have been a factor.
Man, I just don’t know what to make of stuff like this. I’ve been so upset at the outcome of games that I wasn’t fit to be around. After I got a little wiser, and my dad’s wisdom approached infinity, I remember his words:
It’s just a game. Wait until next year.
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I’m watching the NASCAR race on ESPN, and the NCAA football scroll says that tonight is the Nebraska/Oklahoma football game.
I grew up on the Kansas/Nebraska border, on the Kansas side. We got more teevee from Nebraska-based stations than from Kansas ones, back in the day. So, it’s natural that I bleed a bit of Cornhusker Red from time to time. Except during basketball season, of course. I’ve often said that living close to a state line was the best of all possible worlds; I could be a Cornhusker during football season, and a Jayhawk come roundball time1.
Then, the Big 82 championship and the accompanying Bowl Bid, went to the winner of this game. And both Nebraska and Oklahoma won their share. I still remember the Game of the Century, in 1971. Thanksgiving Day, it was. My parents and Carl and Clara Herman traded hosting Thanksgiving dinners. In ’71, it was Carl and Clara’s turn. They lived in the country. By country, I mean not the suburbs. I mean on a real farm, where dirt and gravel roads went to the two-lane US-36 highway. We went to church that morning, and then to Carl and Clara’s place to eat. Even on Thanksgiving Day, in the Midwest Universe, you eat at noon sharp. And we did. After we ate, Dad, Carl, and I repaired to the living room, to watch the huge #1 vs #2 gridiron spectacle. This being 1971, rural dwellers had no cable and no satellite for TV reception. A rooftop antenna and sheer hope met your need for TV. This year, neither cooperated, and Carl looked at Dad, Dad looked back at Carl and said “You wanna’ go to our place and watch the game on cable?”. The three of us thanked Clara and Mom for a delicious feast, piled into Carl’s Ford pickup, and barrelled down those dirt roads into Norton, and fired up the folks’ TV just in time for the kickoff. And what a game it was, made all the better, at least to me, by a 35-31 Nebraska victory that day.
I loved this little memory lane stroll. Both teams’ fortunes have waxed and waned over the years. This year, it looks like a mortal lock for the Sooners. For all the great memories of games past, and for my love of Nebraska, I’ll watch tonight, remember the past victories, and maybe break into a chorus of:
There is no place like Nebraska
Dear old Nebraska U.
Where the girls are the fairest,
The boys are the squarest,
Of any old place that you knew.
There is no place like Nebraska,
Where they’re all true blue,
We’ll all stick together in all kinds of weather,
For dear old Nebraska U.
GO HUSKERS!
Until basketball season, that is.
-k-
Home from cubesville, sipping a cool one, and fixing to watch tonight’s Obamamercial, followed by the last dab of the World Series. I’m prepared to be disappointed with the outcomes of both.
-k-
My little bride and I are both extremely fair-weather fans of baseball. However, we both enjoy the ALCS/NLCS/Series coverage, Tim McCarver’s presence in the booth notwithstanding. And we’re both Kansas City Royals fans. The Royals are typically out of any championship hunt by the All-Star break. I can’t speak for her, but after that, I’m pretty much of the National League mindset.
Breaking with that for this year, and having lost nothing in Philadelphia1, we’re both cheering on Tampa Bay.
Go Rays!
-k-
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