BRONX, NY – I was gonna take this week off, but screw it. If the movie Groundhog Day has taught us nothing it’s that, when you’re trapped in a recurring nightmare, you might as well roll with it and try to make the best of it. In fact, this is usually the time of year I remind everyone of the title of Hunter Thompson’s suicide note, “Football Season is Over,” and write about the miserable two-and-a-half months we are all staring down. But not this year. This year we plow straight through. Keep picking ’em up and putting ’em down. Damn the torpedoes! Full speed ahead!
I got yet another birthday coming up tomorrow (I really wanted the three of you reading this to know that), and though the old expression goes, “with age comes wisdom,” what I’ve actually found is that with each passing year I really give less of a sh!t about a lot of stuff, but in a good way. For instance, one of the best things about my sports viewing now is I don’t watch any pregame hype or postgame postmortems. Being smart enough to not watch a second of any NFL pregame show, especially the Super Bowl, has been one of my bigger accomplishments. I can’t think of a more colossal waste of time than listening to a bunch of moronic ex-jocks scream over each other in an attempt to enlighten fans with their so-called expertise. It’s all garbage. Go for a run, wash your car, write a column for MTM, and just turn on the game for the opening kickoff, tip, pitch or whatever, and you’ll be doing yourself a great service.
Speculation in sports is its own cottage industry now. There are countless reporters, pundits, bloggers, whatever you want to call them, who make their living just talking about what might happen. Where will Bryce Harper and Manny Machado end up? Are the Knicks really going to land Durant and others to become a “Super Team?” It’s time for Mock NFL Draft Number 9. It all amounts to nothing. Hell, we do it right here on this site! But at least we have the scruples not to be paid a red cent to make these stupid predictions. You can dream on our own time. You sure as hell don’t need others to do it for you.
Instead, enjoy all the great things sports have to offer. Watching a baseball game, any baseball game, with friends or family or solo, on a nice summer day, the play-by-play poetry of Doc Emrick, playing a sport that you actually enjoy, rooting against the Cowboys, watching Hagler vs. Hearns on YouTube for the millionth time, coaching kids soccer… even if you suck at soccer, bowling like garbage, Gary, Ron, & Keith… hell, even listening to the braying stupidity of a guy like Mike Francesa is OK as a guilty pleasure every now and then.
To be honest, I really don’t know what I was trying to say here today, and I think that comes across beautifully. I’m still a little miffed that no one ran the headline: Patriots 13 Maroon 5 Rams 3, but what are you gonna do? I’m off to points south today, and in my mind I suppose I’m already there. I’ll do my best to chime in when I can. See ya next week.
Someone will be posting a column tomorrow. It will probably be late. But swing by and talk some trash either way. Barring that, I never recommend anything really, outside of bourbon, but watch the HBO doc Deadline Artists, if you have access. It’s about Jimmy Breslin and Pete Hamill, two of the very best New York news columnists ever. It’s seriously great.
