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05-11-2010 I have a wide range of sports, psychological, and weather issues to deal with today. Buckle up! Happy: Milton Bradley and his antics this week have made me happy. And that is only semi-sarcastic, as I am happy for two reasons. Reason 1: Cubs fans are off the hook. Milton came to Chicago with a ton of baggage; everyone knew that. But as he was traded away, he still found time to take a few shots at Cubs fans, calling them racists, etc. No one really took him seriously because, after all, he is Milton Bradley. But that is still a lofty accusation. Reason 2: He has asked the Mariners for help dealing with his emotional issues. Milton is an easy guy to dislike. He has not played nicely with umpires, managers, broadcasters, (pause for another breath) front offices, and of course, fans. It is easy to look at a guy who plays a child's game and makes millions of dollars doing so, and say he should appreciate what he has. Many of us would gladly change places with him and would swear we could handle whatever situations he has faced in a much better way. But no one knows that for sure until you actually step into his shoes. Most of us think having money instantly means you face no hardships in life, or that all obstacles can be easily overcome. Probably not true. Think about it. There is probably someone on earth willing to trade lives with you also. Maybe Milton wishes he was Barry Bonds. And Barry Bonds wishes he was Barry Bonds without the steroids. The truth is, unless you are without a place to live, people who care about you, and your health, you do have it better than someone else. Milton is human, just like all of us. In fact, my birthdate and his are separated by less than three weeks. He just has superior athletic skills and a more lucrative career than most people on the planet. But that doesn't automatically make him a happy person. It is my hope that he overcomes his demons and can enjoy the athletic gifts and opportunities he has been given. Sad: The great success that was the ratings of this year's NFL Draft made me sad. And confused. Is there really a more boring pseudo-sporting event in all of the land? What exactly do you do during the draft? You watch the announcement of a pick and then you wait. And wait. And wait some more. People talk about how baseball is slow. But you can go on the internet and pull up a whole list of the NFL draft and skim it in a few minutes. That's essentially it. You want to know what players went to what teams, right? Does watching the draft give you anything extra? Highlights, maybe. But you aren't allowed access to the war rooms of the teams or into their inner thoughts, right? Or am I missing something? At least in a baseball game you can get a lot out of watching a game that you can't from a box score. Sparkling defensive plays don't show up in a box score. Your team's reliever getting a huge strikeout with a man on 3rd in a tie game with one out in the 8th inning doesn't necessarily make the box score either. The fact that Fukudome can't hit a change-up doesn't show up in the stats either. Next year, unfortunately, the draft is being stretched over more nights. I don't understand. Anyone who watched and loved this thing, please write in and tell me what was so great about it. Angry: I'm angry at wind. Not Earth, Wind, and Fire. They're cool by me. Not Patrick Swayze's "She's Like the Wind." Actual wind. The stuff that ruins picnics, relocates trailer parks, and skews basically any sporting event it can gets its gusts on. Let's face it: Wind picked a fight with us first. It turns home runs into pop outs, a normal day into a tornado, a rain storm into a hurricane, sleet into hail, and your nicely styled hair into a wreck. It knocks otherwise nice, straight tee shots into the rough. It creates boring run-based football games where there should be big aerial assaults. Jogging into the wind sucks. Running with the wind creates asterisk-laden "wind-aided" times. Nothing good comes of wind. Wind, when you blow, you blow sporadically. Whether it's a golf shot or basketball shot I line up counting on you to stay constant, you gust or wane. That's a bitch move, wind. I'd punch you or hit you with a baseball bat if I could... but that would only make more of you. Stay happy! -T |
Inside My Brain