Sporting Rants and Raves: January 31, 2009

Happy 62nd Mr. Nolan Ryan. A Hall of Fame pitcher, well deserved at that. And the current President of the Washington Senators take II, aka the Texas Rangers.

Are you ready for some football? Now that I ask, are you confused about some football? I know I am. Well, the majority of you may be looking at the screen a bit cross eyed, wondering what the heck I'm talking about. But there are others who may not be thinking about tomorrow's Super Bowl match up. They may, in fact be thinking about the 'football' that we American's call soccer. Or perhaps, Australian Rules Football. Or maybe rugby. Or futsal. Okay, so I doubt many of you know about futsal.

Football: An open air game, first recorded in 1409 (University of Leipzig opens). Then prohibited by a Scottish statute in 1424 (Battle of Verneuil). The ball itself is first referenced in 1486 (Marriage of Henry VII and Elizabeth of York to end the Wars of the Roses). And the game became an obsession in England circa 1630 (Boston, MA founded). The game's rules became normalized in 1848 (Prince Klemens von Metternich ends his work as Austrian foreign minister). Soccer split off in 1863 (Gettysburg). Then the first true football game took place November 13, 1869 (which makes sense based on a certain uncle's birthday) between Princeton and Rutgers. Finally, the first reference to American football comes from 1881 (Phoenix, AZ incorporated). [Thanks to dictionary.com]

Who will win the Super Bowl? I'll talk about that in a little bit.

The Georgia Institute of Technology Yellow Jackets have defeated the No. 6 Wake Forest Fighting Baptist Demon Deacons for their first victory in the Atlantic Coast Conference.

The Boston Celtics have now won 10 straight to take a ridiculous 14.5 game lead over the next best Philadelphia 4x19ers. I'm happy for the Celtics. I'd much rather them win than the Lakers, after all.

But wait, you might proclaim, you're a Yankees fan. Yes, I know, I know. Growing up, I was confused. The old man: a Yankees, Giants, Knicks fan. And Islanders. Islanders? Not the Rangers? Okay, fine, still New York. Uncle Mark: Yankees, Giants, Rangers. And Celtics. Wow. That's just wrong. Maternal grandfather: Red Sox, Celtics. And Giants, Rangers. C'mon. Paternal grandfather. Tigers, Lions, Red Wings, and Pistons. He never lived a day of his life in Detroit, so don't ask me. What does that leave me with? Yankees and Giants. Lean towards the Celtics. And honestly, I have no clue for which hockey team to root. Confused. Flat out.

This week's question involves Joe Torre's book. He wrote it. I haven't read it. I don't know if all the people who are taking snippets from it and reporting on them have read it. So, I can't speak to that which appears in the book. But I can ask the question, why. Why did he write it? Why does anyone write a book? To instruct. To inform. To entertain. So what was his purpose? To help other managers in the future with their professional teams? To entertain readers with the sacrosanct inner workings of a clubhouse? Or did he do this for money that he doesn't really need? I just don't get it.

Well, without further ado, I give to you my final pick in this year's NFL season (no I won't be choosing the Pro Bowl winner).

Pittsburgh v. Arizona @ Tampa
I just saw the headline 'Dynasty versus Doormat'. Appropriate. The Pittsburgh Steelers haven't won a championship since 2006. For the Cardinals it's been a little longer. Like 59 years. And that's when they were in Chicago. The Pittsburgh Steelers are a defensive powerhouse. The Arizona Cardinals are an offensive juggernaut, or at least they have been in the playoffs. The Steelers will attempt to pummel Warner. And Warner has to get rid of the ball to three very good receivers who can beat the Pittsburgh secondary. Tomlin wins games. And Whisenhunt knows how Pittsburgh wins games. Even with all these facts, this game could be a real clunker. It all depends on Arizona's offense. If they come to play, they can stay in the game. If they don't, Pittsburgh will roast them over an open flame. In the end, I must always stick to the fact that the better defensive team will win the championship. TD chooses: Pittsburgh Steelers

There you have it. Happy sporting all until next week.

Mere Minutes: A Case of Licking

Cleo licks. A lot.

She licks when she's nervous. When she's happy. When she knows she's done something wrong. Even when she's sleeping. Her big, rough, pink tongue slobbers about uncontrollably and incessantly.

There's only one way to stop the licking. You have to scratch her stomach. Then she looks at you as if she owns you, as if you're her pet.

When we had our old carpet, we used a product called Carpet Fresh. It's meant to make ratty old carpet fragrant for about a day, leading the cleaner to think it's clean. Because of the smell. Yeah, I know it doesn't make any sense.

What does that have to do with the licking? Well, it seems that powder somehow got into Cleo's paws. So, she started licking her paws. And licking. And licking. Until she licked the pads right off her back paws. We took her to the vet who gave us a solution in which to soak the paws. And antibiotics. We followed the instructions. She kept licking.

It got so bad, in fact, that we had to put a cone around her head. And she tried to lick those paws. God knows she did. But she couldn't, making her utterly miserable. Instead she licked the dust and pollen from the air repeatedly until she made this house habitable for the worst asthmatic.

We talked to someone who told us that the Carpet Fresh might be the problem. And, after we got our new carpet, just like that, she stopped licking her paws and made due with the carpet, the couch, blankets, Buddy, the cats, Joseph, water, play toys, and cat urine.

Yuck.

But that's not the story, this is. Today I come home after what can only be described as a grueling day. I take out the trash - Friday's our trash day - and do the last of my work. I then put the old blue blanket - an artifact from the old man's house - on the ground in my room and proceed to do my workout.

Now, it's tough to get the workout started because the doggies want some love. So, they attack my head as I do push ups. Buddy just charges head first and hits me squarely in the middle of my skull. This is how he shows his love. Meanwhile, Cleo starts a lickin'. I turn my face one way, she licks the back of my neck for a little while and then searches for my face again. She must lick my face. There's just no way around it. All while I'm doing push ups. You try that...

After a while, she gets tired of trying to find my face and retires to the bed where she stares at me with a knowing grin. Because she knows that soon enough I'll be doing an exercise where I lie on my back and lift my knees to my chest. At the moment she sees her opening, leaps off the bed, leading with her tongue, and assaults my eyes, ears, nose, and cheeks. Over and over, her wet tongue finds every nook and crevice on and in my face while I try to do my exercise.

Finally, I scratch her tummy. And she stares at me laughingly. Knowing that she has once again ruled the day.

3WW: American Sentences (Carress, Jagged, Ruthless)

American Sentences: They are haiku-length poems that Allen Ginsburg suggested be limited to 17 syllables, like haiku in Japanese and like the Heart Sutra in Buddhism. The following two sentences are such American Sentences of 17 syllables.


I caress the shark’s jagged teeth with terrible Ivan’s ruthless hand.

Ruth with jagged knife caresses her lover’s heart, leaving him ruthless.

Video of the Week: Super Bowl XLIII

We pick up the game with four minutes remaining in the fourth quarter. The Arizona Cardinals retain a seven point lead, the result of a quick first quarter start. Can they hold on?

Art in All its Forms: Drawing Hands

I've always been a fan of M.C. Escher's works. You know, he's the Dutch artist that painted impossibly constructed stairways.



The one who has fish turning into geese.



The one who painted angels and demons at odds within the circle that cannot itself be squared.



But at this moment in my life, I am inspired by one of Escher's most well known works, namely Drawing Hands. I am so inspired because I have recently received a promotion at work that has put me in a position of power. And within that attainment of power, I have chosen a paradoxical relationship of sorts. One in which I who have the power rely on those who do not have such power. And vice versa. It is an interdependent relationship with each drawing from the other that which they need to succeed. For, what would I now be without a group to manage? And yet, they now rely on me to make decisions that will affect them. As fascinating a loop as the work below: