I've been ruminating on the state of Cincinnati sports lately.
Chad, Chad, Chad... what's become of you? All wide receivers love attention. They are used to it. They score touchdowns, they do dances, they are flashy and all-around attention whores. Usually, the money, the women, the dancing... it's enough to suffice. But then Ocho Cinco starts getting double-teamed, and T.J. Houshmandzadeh and Carson Palmer worked together in the off-season... and suddenly, Chad doesn't get the "respect" or "love" he deserves. When Marvin and the rest of Cincinnati ignore the bellyaching, he takes his tantrum to whomever will listen. Now, he is essentially crying, pouting, and pounding his fists, all in the hopes he will receive the attention he thrives on.
Remember when Corey Dillon wanted to be traded? You got your Super Bowl ring, Corey... and essential obscurity. Congratulations. I'm sure someone besides me and a random ESPN analyst remember you exist.
Chad, tread carefully... you are a gifted athlete. But you are also a gigantic pain in the ass. And most teams only have enough head room for one egomaniac. Work on getting your attention by running your legs instead of your mouth.
And then there's the Reds... I kind of wish I had written this post before last night, when Bronson Arroyo put together what is technically considered a quality start, and a win to boot. But for every strikeout, there was a horrible JTM commercial. The image of Bronson, his hair blowing in fan (pun UNintended)-provided wind, his voice straining... It's like a bad Nickelback karaoke performance... but not as entertaining. Bronson: put down the guitar. Back away from the mic. Pick up the ball. Keep it in the yard. Rinse and repeat.
While the major-league, professional sports in Cincinnati struggle, the Cincinnati Cyclones put together a ridiculously good season (a 17 game winning streak?) and are in the finals. But that's hockey. Cincinnati is still stinging from not being allowed to join the Confederacy, and they won't be having that Yankee bullshit around here.
Speaking of the Yankees, they are evil, George Steinbrenner is the Devil, and Hank is like Dubya striving to make sure HE is remembered as the douchebag of the family. Just an aside... I just hate the Yankees.
Good night, kids
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
a little pick-me-up
I realize that the last few posts have been kind of bummers... and I apologize. I kind of write when something is on my mind... and when the funny stuff comes, I just say it to whomever is around and move on. The serious stuff, I don't talk about, so it stays in my head until I write on here. Sorry 'bout that.
Anyway... I'm sweeping the deck the other night at City View and there are chips everywhere... one table in particular- there had to be more chips on the ground than got into their mouths. I thought, do these people eat like this at home? Do they get up from their dining room table with a circle of bones and peas and bread crusts surrounding them, waiting for vultures (or perhaps a family dog) to clean up? And how is it possible that they are missing their mouth so much? How much do you have to drink to forget the location of your mouth?
Of course, I was making this hilarious point the other night when Sara and Neil and another friend were over... we had a good one over that. Then, yesterday evening, Sara and I had some Klotter Conconctions and cheese and crackers. Guess what was surrounding us on the floor? Aw, damn.
I just saw a preview for a movie that's playing on FX later... An Unfinished Life. "With Robert Redford, Morgan Freeman, and Jennifer Lopez.." Wha? Jennifer Lopez? Was that an accident? I'm not a movie person, and I'm pretty sure I've never seen anything that Jennifer Lopez was in. But I primarily recognize her fame for dating and marrying. I was unaware they would cast her in movies where she doesn't play a maid or wedding planner.
Note to the winner of the Indy 500- I know that whole milk thing is a tradition, but coming from someone who has been hit in the face with whipped cream pies on two separate occasions... you will not get the smell of sour milk out of your nose for two weeks.
On the topic of Chad Johnson, because he will not be content until he has permeated every corner of the planet, including my little blog... Now he is demanding to be traded. It started out with him reminding me of a high school girl who cries and complains about her boyfriend to everyone... except her boyfriend. Now he's more like a child throwing a tantrum... and Marvin Lewis is doing what parents do best- ignoring it. Honestly, Chad... first it's that you're upset that Cincinnati doesn't love you enough. Then you don't care whether people like you, you want respect. Now you want a Super Bowl ring. Honestly, Chad- there's only one thing you really want, and that's attention. That's the reason for the end zone celebrations. That's the reason for the endless supply of interviews. Is that the classiest way to handle this situation? Shut your pie hole and take care of your business without pulling a Spencer and Heidi publicity stunt. At this point, you could be the best WR in the history of the planet, and no one is going to remember anything but you being a whiny, self-absorbed crybaby.
Enough of my semi-humorous and mostly self-indulgent ramblings. Thanks, kids.
Anyway... I'm sweeping the deck the other night at City View and there are chips everywhere... one table in particular- there had to be more chips on the ground than got into their mouths. I thought, do these people eat like this at home? Do they get up from their dining room table with a circle of bones and peas and bread crusts surrounding them, waiting for vultures (or perhaps a family dog) to clean up? And how is it possible that they are missing their mouth so much? How much do you have to drink to forget the location of your mouth?
Of course, I was making this hilarious point the other night when Sara and Neil and another friend were over... we had a good one over that. Then, yesterday evening, Sara and I had some Klotter Conconctions and cheese and crackers. Guess what was surrounding us on the floor? Aw, damn.
I just saw a preview for a movie that's playing on FX later... An Unfinished Life. "With Robert Redford, Morgan Freeman, and Jennifer Lopez.." Wha? Jennifer Lopez? Was that an accident? I'm not a movie person, and I'm pretty sure I've never seen anything that Jennifer Lopez was in. But I primarily recognize her fame for dating and marrying. I was unaware they would cast her in movies where she doesn't play a maid or wedding planner.
Note to the winner of the Indy 500- I know that whole milk thing is a tradition, but coming from someone who has been hit in the face with whipped cream pies on two separate occasions... you will not get the smell of sour milk out of your nose for two weeks.
On the topic of Chad Johnson, because he will not be content until he has permeated every corner of the planet, including my little blog... Now he is demanding to be traded. It started out with him reminding me of a high school girl who cries and complains about her boyfriend to everyone... except her boyfriend. Now he's more like a child throwing a tantrum... and Marvin Lewis is doing what parents do best- ignoring it. Honestly, Chad... first it's that you're upset that Cincinnati doesn't love you enough. Then you don't care whether people like you, you want respect. Now you want a Super Bowl ring. Honestly, Chad- there's only one thing you really want, and that's attention. That's the reason for the end zone celebrations. That's the reason for the endless supply of interviews. Is that the classiest way to handle this situation? Shut your pie hole and take care of your business without pulling a Spencer and Heidi publicity stunt. At this point, you could be the best WR in the history of the planet, and no one is going to remember anything but you being a whiny, self-absorbed crybaby.
Enough of my semi-humorous and mostly self-indulgent ramblings. Thanks, kids.
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