Like with any new parent, I’ve found the first weeks of being a dad are a mix of emotions, sleep deprivation, frustration, and that senseless of hope of the world becoming a better place…all because my offspring represents a new generation that will hopefully tackle and resolve all the world’s problems. Uh, not likely.
It’s long been a theory that if not for ESPN there would be no NBA, the two as financially connected as Siamese twins. But with up-and-down ratings, and a clear fall-off in interest for teams outside Golden State and Cleveland, can anyone say for sure if that’s best for basketball; or can anyone refute that it’s all about what’s good for ESPN?
Here in America we now run commercials for sports events that now tell us “we live for this”. But have you grown tired of being told “bigger” is always “better”?
Could the best college football team beat the Cleveland Browns? Don’t make me laugh. Well, the Browns do make me laugh, but no. And the difference is like that of the Titanic, and a tugboat!
Here comes Santa Claus…sneeze, aarrkk, cough, hack. Let’s hope he’s brought some cold meds.
If you’ve forgotten the sensation of learning that you’re going to be a parent, the real joy is that of thinking down the road, past the ‘baby’ part, to the responsibilities that come when someone calls you “dad”.
A four-team playoff just doesn’t give enough deserving teams a chance to play for the national title…or enough people like me to write about why eight “is” enough!
The untold story of our forebears’ meeting with the Indian prophet who foresaw what would become of Thanksgiving Day.
Oh, say can you see…that maybe we don’t need the national anthem before every game? Yes? No? Well at least consider the history of it.
Fantasy football, pre-season games, NCAA openers, Colin Kaepernick? Meh. You could do better. I could do better…and will!
I had the distinct impression that if I could physically survive the first day of summer football practice, I could make it through anything.
In a nation increasingly rankled by identity politics, a little corporate singing might do us all a little good by reminding us that, here in America, like it or not, we’re still all in this thing together.
It’s funny how we form a bond with a team, and how once we make that connection it’s somehow hard to rid ourselves of it… even when we want to.
If you want to be at the big game you’re going have to pay for it. But, what’s it worth to you, and more importantly, why?
When we raise a statue, we say to future generations, “Here are the best of our values, embodied.” To Hoosiers, I guess that means Peyton Manning.
I’ve reached a place in my life where the thrill of the buzzer beater just isn’t worth the hour of volume-increased commercials beforehand. The pre-game hype, the incessant analysis, and the onslaught of advertising wearies my soul, to be honest.
It’s hard to relish a game when any semblance of competition is destroyed even before tip-off. So why, except for the fact of money, do we even have them…and call it a tournament?
Now with the best of the bowl games behind us, a few thoughts on how the entire situation was all tedium and yawns.
In a world as broken as ours, we all need reminded what Christmas means and why we celebrate.
There’s plenty of common sense reasons to include Ohio State in the College Football Playoff this year. I doubt the committee will see it my way, though.
