The crowning of a new world champ means the end of baseball for another six months. It saddens me. But if there is a silver lining, its that I won’t have to listen to Tim McCarver for another six months either. See, I have a theory: Tim McCarver (FOX, baseball), John Madden (ABC, football) and Bill Walton (ESPN, basketball) are the same guy. I mean, honestly, when have you not been dumber for having listened to any of these guys? Don’t get me started on Madden, it won’t be pretty. King Obvious.
“When a receiver is coming down inbounds with the ball, one hand equals two feet. Or one butt equals two feet.”
“The beauty of the Turducken is its a turkey stuffed inside of a duck stuffed inside of a chicken.”
Like I said, don’t get me started. The sooner Madden retires, the better.
Archive for » October, 2004 «
Well, I’ve been to the dentist today for the first time in 2 years. Prior to this little rebellious streak, I’d never missed my 6-month checkup and cleaning. But once I moved to Omaha permanently after graduation, I don’t make it home to Iowa during the week when my dentist could see me. So I put off finding one over here forever.
My method for finding a dentist was highly scientific. I opened the yellow pages and looked for the best looking advertisement.
Two of them caught my eye: one was full page, and had a prominent picture of this gray-haired doctor with a mischeivous grin. He reminded me of Dr. Angus from the BK ads.
I love the “Toothy-Toothy” thing too. Good stuff.
But I did not go to this dentist.
Over the weekend, I went to “The Haunt” on 73rd & Blondo here in Omaha. Aside from waiting in line with high school kids for an hour (I made sure to talk loudly about going to the bars afterward, just to make the little punks jealous), it was OK.
I mean, most haunted houses are kind of ridiculous. Especially ones in buildings. You know that every room you go into is going to have somebody jumping at you — so knowing that, how can you be startled? This was pretty decent as far as cheesy haunted houses go. One room, there was a guy with a real live chain saw running after us. I could smell the gas burning, so I knew it was a real saw — so much to my horror, he slashed my arm. Only then did I realize the chain was taken off. Still, that WAS scary.
Most of the journey, I went around making smart ass comments to the actors. One monster had bloody gloves; I asked him where O.J. was. Another guy was chopping up bodies and putting them in his fridge; I asked him if he learned that from Jeffrey Dahmer. There was one monster eating arms from dead people; I asked him if it tasted like chicken. Bad jokes, sure, but when people are scared, they’ll laugh at anything.
So, Saturday I’m in Best Buy, and I notice that all car stereos with MP3 functionality are on sale. The factory radio in my GT, well, it sucks. But I’m not 16 anymore, and I’m not trying to show off to the ladies by having a bitchin’ sound system, so I put up with it. Still, dang, it would be nice to not only play MP3′s directly from the stereo, but also hook up the iPod into a audio-in port on the front of the stereo.
Proving that I’m still an impetuous shopper like I was 10 years ago in high school, albeit with a heck of a lot more disposable income, I plopped down $300 on a spur-of-the-moment purchase.
Its sweet.
Saturday night, I sat with some friends at Clancy’s Bar on Dodge while the Yankees were putting the finishing touches on a 19-8 rout of the Red Sox in Game Three of the ALCS. My brother was wearing a Sox cap — even though both of us are dyed-in-the-wool Twins fans — and a stranger asked us the $56,000 question:
Are you really a Red Sox fan, or do you just hate the Yankees?
Of course, my brother and I are two of the biggest Twins fans on the planet, so the short answer to that question is “We just hate the Yankees”. This inevitably prompted my best friend Voss to ask “Why”?
Beyond the obvious, like the Yankees being evil and all, I was born hating New York. Yes, they are evil. This is the team that honored a truant with a parade — a kid who, while skipping school to attend a playoff day game in 1996 against Baltimore, interfered with a fly ball, turning an out into a home run. In any civilized sports city, these fans are beaten with sticks. In New York, they get a parade.
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