Mister Faded Glory | The critique of everything

I’m a little slow today, my schedule at work has subsided somewhat as the calendar year draws to a (gulp) close. And so, today has been a struggle to monitor a few projects while remaining on task. Also, it’s been increasingly difficult to think of something to write. I’ve put off doing posts on these topics:

1. Endorsement of a presidential candidate. (duh.)
2. Comprehensive ranking of all sports announcers, highlighting the best and the worst. (too ambitious)
3. Red Sox beat the Cardinals (again).
4. How much I actually like that song that features Amy Lee of Evanescence and which I think is called “I’m Broken.” (No, I don’t know why, either.)
5. A spooky novella that highlights supernatural forces at work in a female-dominated office setting during the Halloween season, when Satan’s powers are at their peak.
6. Why I must hear the song ‘1985‘ seventeen times per day on the radio.
7. Coming up with another tired list (Oh, shoot. Too late) as a piece-gimmick.

However, this all changed when I stumbled upon the following nugget in the local news of the hometown paper of MFG.

Suffice it to say that I, as an upstanding member of central Kansas, may now be attending this event. As we’ve discussed, I tend to veer sharply away from Republican ideals, and I am constantly repulsed by the metamorphosis of the former NYC mayor into a harping shill for the GOP.

Sure, the man of the year offered some competent leadership for New Yorkers after the tragedy of 9-11, (Did anyone even know he was a Republican? Leading a pro-Democrat city in America?) but that in no way justifies his stance within the Republican Party as the anti-(Bill) Clinton, as some media and sites suggest, chortle, or claim.

First of all, to champion Giuliani while smearing Clinton is ridiculous and hypocritical. We’ve all heard countless grassroots GOP arguments (And by grassroots, I mean, Midwestern GOP’ers that have grass growing roots in their teeth. Ha! Came up with that myself. OK, I don’t really mean it. I mean ground-level, middle-class, taxes-and-religion Republicans.) Anyway, we’ve all heard countless GOP arguments that Clinton was an awful president because (a) he cheated on his wife, or (b) he lied about it. And, following that, (c) under oath.

Well, it is wise not to judge, because Mr. Giuliani is far from the anti-Clinton. Remember his Senate campaign of 1999? Of course you don’t. His mistress – and his battle with cancer – ended it. (Although, he did have prostate cancer, and at the risk of being flippant … the results of treatment may have ended his cavorting with the mistress, if you get my drift.)

Yet he is widely regarded as the savior of New York, and a bastion of Republicanism. It’s fine to put an affable face on a party, and jet him around the country to wile up yokels that he previously had no thought nor care about –however, I plead that listeners just be cognizant of who he is, in the GOP eyes and in ours. He’s not bad. But he’s no saint. And his speeches and empty passion with eyes on 2008 are becoming annoying.

That said, I’ve got just the shirt to wear to this chamber event. I know Hizzoner will love it.

See, I can spout off about nothing on end! I’m a true blogger. Till next time.

The Board

Lines of the Weekend – inspired by Kansas State University football tailgating.

1. “So, if this is K-State, and the bar district is AggieVille, do you suppose the bar district at Texas A&M is called WildcatVille?”

2. “Well, I must be in Manhattan, Kansas. I just called some guy a hayseed and he said, ‘Thanks.’

3. “So the Cornhuskers are here and Alltel set up a NASCAR simulator? Good god, it’s like Christmas to Nebraska fans.”

4. “Doesn’t my wife [Ms. Faded Glory] look hot today?” (note: She did. Smoking.)

5. “I was lining up for the last-second shot, when I heard Belding yell, ‘Shoot your hopes and dreams!’ By the time I figured out that he meant the ball, the game was over.” (Note: line pilfered from Saved by the Bell. Just trust me, it had its place.)

The Bored

1. Tim McCarver, Tim McCarver, Tim McCarver. Why is there no one employed at Fox Sports who can correct Mr. Yankee when he states, “Mark Bellhorn led the majors in strikeouts.” Three times this postseason, he’s bellowed this!
2. Ashlee, we hardly knew ye. Remember when Milli Vanilli got crucified for lip-synching? Now that all pop music is so ridiculously bad, is anyone really batting a dyed-black eyelash at the multitude of excuses offered by Ms. Simpson after her SNL gaffe?
3. Hangovers. As of Monday afternoon, we at MFG haven’t quite climbed the mountain yet.
4. Bear costumes. Please don’t ask. No, it’s not a fetish. (Hmmm…)
5. Our president. Will this be the next-to-last time I wake up with a sense of impending doom, simply because of the leader in charge of the free world? VK.

Song of the week/weak. Britney Spears vaults the white trash quotient in her videos into the stratosphere, with Bobby Brown’s My Prerogative. Is the B-side Humpin’ Around?

This may be likely the 32,605th “What in the…?” moment of this fractured campaign, but, honestly, how do we always get to the pitting of the first ladies?

I do not care who they are, what they do, what they have accomplished, or anything of the sort. I am voting for president, not his wife.

I am frustrated by this; I would certainly hope that my wife would not be passed over for any job in her future simply because I either:
(a) Dropped out of law school
(b) Inscribed “F*ck You” to an old basketball coach in a high school paper editorial
(c) Got kicked out of my fraternity.
(d) One time, picked up a dog by its hind legs, and pushed it around like a wheelbarrow.
(e) Once sang Warrant’s Cherry Pie by myself at a karaoke bar.

I mean, what kind of American am I? Why should she be judged on my demerits?

And, thusly, how can I judge the future commander-in-chief based on either of their spouses? Preposterous.

It’s staggering.

I repeat, the greatest comeback in sports history.

Finished off by one of history’s most tortured franchises.

Against the most storied team in a century of sports. A fending off of the most vulgar display of power in recent offseason memory.

Gone.

It’s all gone. It’s all changed. And I’m going to spare you any sense of eloquence today. I’m almost giddy seeing the Yanks fall so hard. Here come some of my talking points after what many are dubbing the Best Postseason Ever (not true), but what will always be known as the Greatest Comeback Ever (true.)

1. I’m blowing my own horn, but it’s nice to be right. And again. Alex Rodriguez is easily the most soulless, vapid competitor in baseball.

And guess what? New York is stuck with him. In the next couple of years, however, if a Yankee decline persists, he will likely be traded again. Want some cheese with that whine, A-Fraud? (I really can’t write enough about this guy. And the Sox wanted to trade Manny Ramirez to get him? And NO WONDER Nomah was so pissed at the trade talks!)

2. Thanks to the real postseason Gary Sheffield for showing up. Kerry Wood says hi.

3. I don’t think you can underestimate the magnitude of what the Sox did here. Did they put an end to the Yankee dynasty? I think so. I’ve always been of the mind that the 1996-2000 Yanks were so good because they had the homegrown core (Jeter, Bernie, Rivera, O’Neill, Brosius, Pettitte) of stars and role players that played as a team, starting under Buck Showalter and continuing under Joe Torre. (Sound familiar? Oh, like the Texas Rangers. Is that A-Fraud’s old team?) They played unlike any other AL club. They bunted. They took pitches. They were tough in the bullpen.

That’s a pipe dream now. They let centerpiece Andy Pettitte walk out the door. (His new team is still playing). They overpaid for Kevin Brown and Javier Vazquez, one old, one mediocre. They overpaid for Sheffield, notorious for postseason failures. And in the final display of hubris, they stole the moody Rodriguez out from under the uncertain Sox. I think New England is collectively sighing with relief after that debacle.

And, what’s the future? Let’s quickly break it down. Jeter, Mussina, Rivera, A-Fraud, and Sheff are all for certain coming back next season. The incredible disappearing Matsui (IMHO, the Yanx best player) will also return. But no one else is carved in stone. Giambi is a certain casualty, virus or no. Bernie will be forced out. Posada will maybe survive in a platoon. Lofton, Sierra, Lieber, K-Brown, El Duque, start packing. And they’re probably stuck with Vazquez.

Add to this – the Yankees can only improve through free agency. Their farm system is gone. This is it, New York, this is the end. Cashman can’t schedule meetings with Carlos Beltran, Carlos Delgado, and Matt Clement fast enough. Well, assuming he still has a job.

And, briefly, I’ve touched on the imminent decline before. They’ve postponed it for two years. Now it’s here, smack in their faces.

4. Maybe it’s not proper to revel in Yankee failure. Perhaps we should be celebrating Red Sox triumph. Well, that’s all well and good. But I’ve lived in the tri-state area. I married into a legion of Yankee fans. Dammit, I’m going to enjoy this.

First of all, I don’t begrudge the Yankees their success. They played the system, and good for them. They are an exhibit that baseball is somewhat broken; not the cause. Yankee fans rarely make that distinction in their long lectures, given to me without regard. Here’s their reactions this morning:

“I wasn’t upset. The Red Sox were due. It was just their year.”
What kind of egotistical fan says this? If you’re that fucking good every year, it’s never someone else’s year. Not to you.
You’re not on a pedestal of self-entitlement because you root for Satan. You’re not more well-adjusted, you’re not a better fan than those of us who weep with our teams. In fact, you’re worse. You apparently skitter atop bandwagon clouds, and we are slumming, yelling at our TVs. Please.

“Whatever. If the Sox don’t win the World Series, it doesn’t mean anything. They should be focused on winning, not just beating us.”
Please. When you’re at the top, everyone looks to take you down. Revenge? Check. Justice? Check. Celebration on your homefield? Yeah, it’s deserved. They’re focused. You lost. Want some cheese with that whine? (Great line. Merits a two-time mention in the column.)

“A-Rod was just playing hard, going for the ball. How do they reverse that call?”
I reiterate — Twenty-five million dollars per year for a swinging bunt and a resulting slap at a mediocre pitcher during crunch time. Have fun for the next decade, Yankee fans. I mean, he hasn’t even looked good at the plate. Are his pants wet?
Speaking of this A-Fraud thing … Am I harping on him? Am I thrilled I’m right? Am I being too harsh? Screw it, it’s a blog. I don’t have any journalistic constraints. Right?

“Yeah, but we got 26 World Championships. You can’t erase history. We’re more than happy to give someone else a turn.”
I repeat, glance at your roster. Now think about next year. This was coming. Scoffs and denial don’t make it any easier.

“You celebrating the Yankees’ failure is just what happens when you’re on top. It happens when you have an unbelievable history. It’s just proof how great we are.”
Congrats, asshole. You failed. I’m happy. Justify it any way you want, Gino.

“Fuckin asshole Red Sox. Fuhgeddaboudit.”
This is more like it. Now, please, run off to Brooklyn and find a gum-chomper with huge bangs. With any luck, she’ll be wearing acidwashed jeans. Maybe you can take her to Duane Reade for a bacon-egg-and-cheese on a hard roll.

5. Back to my talking points. Does this (please, God) open the door for a Yankee trade for Cubs malcontent Sammy Sosa? The Yankees are prone to expensive fits of insanity. Steinbrenner loves Sosa’s tired hop and run-out to the outfield. And, honestly, who would you rather see coming to the plate if you’re a Yorker? DH Ruben Sierra or Sosa? Sosa or Kenny Lofton? Think there’s a chance here? I do. The Yanks could unload Kevin Brown (Yep, we’ll take him. He’ll be injured, so we can write him off almost immediately) or, failing that, Bernie Williams. Or, failing that, Rivera. (hee hee). But not A-rod. We don’t need .270 strikeout artists. We have plenty.

6. When Tom Gordon was an All-Star (snort), weren’t we wondering if the bottom would fall out at some point? Just checking.

7. This comeback has never happened before, save twice in hockey. Never. And for it to happen to the Yankees, well, it’s a bit of a stain. But, I guess, you want to come crashing into an era of failure rather than experience a steady decline.
And I think Joe Torre has to be fired, thusly. He’s a great manager. But managers in NY get fired for less, and certainly – no manager has ever let this happen to a team. Ever. Not on anyone’s watch. I think they’ll make a change. Too late, but I think it happens.

OK, that’s it. Greatest comeback ever. It’s impossible to imagine how long it will live on. Have two franchises been forever changed? Likely. Is it OK to celebrate the Yanks’ failure. It better be. And, am I ruining my sports-fan karma by doing so? No, I’m not. The Yanks are the villain here, not anyone else.

Now, if we can just get the Cubs to pull this demon-erasing trick off next season, we’ll be sitting pretty. That’s all the baseball columns I have for one season. Check here, here and here for more. See you in the spring.

Sports column alert.

For a tortured “nation,” this all started a season ago. One year, almost to the day, an ill-fated collapse against a business empire masquerading as a baseball franchise.

Now, one of the most tortured yet plucky teams in recent sports memory has in their grasp what so many oh-so-close teams don’t get (2002 Giants, 1997 Indians, 1992 Trail Blazers, 2003 Cubs, 2001 Vikings). The same chance, one year later, to reverse history, to redeem themselves, for good. And it’s amazing theater.

I’ll admit, when the fistfight over Captain Rod started last season, when the spending raced out of control, and even as tempers escalated all season, I casually glanced at my TV, rolled my eyes, and became more and more determined that baseball needs revenue sharing. These two teams – albeit with the Cubs and Dodgers included – are exhibits that baseball cannot reasonably continue to prosper without adopting a similar system to the NFL, in which parity rules.

But now, here we are, with two gigantic payroll teams which have a century of intertwined successes and failures seemingly battling it out – in one game – for the definitions of their entire franchises’ future.

Think about it. One hundred years. Out the window in one series. It’s absolutely improbable, and we haven’t even seen Game 7 yet.

It’s as monumental as sports ever gets. I’ll spare you any game details or analysis – if you’ve been rooted to your TV, you’ve seen it all unfold, and it speaks for itself.

Turning to tonight, rarely has a game meant so much. Forget the World Series. Forget it. Neither of these teams is as superior as the national league counterparts. They just aren’t. They can’t advance runners, bunt, and they aren’t as solid defensively.

That said, we’ve been sold and sold and sold on the histories and legacies of the Yanx and Sawx – and now it’s ALL coming to a head. How big is this game? I hate overselling and overhyping things (If you know me, you just burst out laughing) but How big is this game?

The Red Sox comeback, to force a Game 7, is already one of the top comebacks in baseball — nay, sports – history. No team in baseball down 3-0 has ever done this. I’m sparing calling it the best comeback ever, because we’ve seen a few teams here and there come back from 3-1, which also requires three straight wins. The wunderkind Florida Marlins did that last season.

Still, 3-0 is an entirely different animal. Gary Payton’s SuperSonics came back to force Game 6 against Michael Jordan’s Bulls in 1996, and I remember thinking that was unbelievable. Well, the Red Sox grasped victory from the certain jaws of defeat twice on Sunday and Monday, and turned it all around with a stirring, ‘always-in-command’ victory last night. Even when the Yanks threatened, it never felt like the Sox were going to collapse. Not once.

Now, they’ve given themselves a chance in Game 7. No previous Red Sox club could have done this. Never. No pressure now, they have to be playing loose. This is what they’ve been waiting for. Sure, they have momentum. Sure, they play well and have fun together. And now, they’re almost there. Almost.

Should they win tonight, a legion of fans relax, breathe, scream and cheer. No more will they be considered chokers, because to choke would have been a Game 4 loss – up until the 9th, that game seemed a choreographed Yankee win. Now, the Sox have a chance to put their permanent stamp on a comeback that would easily – indisputably – be the best comeback in sports history. World Series result be damned, they took three knockout punches from the Empire, and rose from the canvas to slug back. No baggage for this team, not anymore.

Not quite that simple for the Empire. I wrote two years ago that the wheels were falling off. Clemens and Pettitte weren’t coming back, the team was getting too old, and sunk way too much of their identity into corporate ho Jason Giambi.

Well, I wasn’t quite correct, but they’re not the same, mystical giant that they were in 2000. We know that. Rivera and Jeter and Williams have ice water in their veins, but this is an obstacle they’ve never encountered.

Yankee legacy be what it may, if they lose tonight, they are forever slapped with the label for biggest choke in sports history. Think about it. The Yankees! That’s it, that’s the list. Nothing comes close. Nothing in Boston past. Nothing in Cub past. Nothing in San Francisco past. Nothing in Minnesota Vikings past. That’s it. It’s on the Bombers.

Twenty-six world titles will not be enough to reclaim this part of their identity should it be lost — that they always beat up on their little brother Red Sox, if they see them get close to victory. That’s how they’re defined. And, unbelievably, that may be all over tonight. Kaput. Finished. And the squad that rose to dominance in 1996 will have finally fallen all the way back to earth, and this era of Yankee free-spending and title-assumption will be, for now, over. That simple. From destiny to chokers. Giambi, goodbye. Lieber, goodbye. Mussina, goodbye. Bernie, goodbye, K-Brown, goodbye, El Duque, goodbye, everyone-but-Jeter-maybe, goodbye, and, of course, unfairly, Joe Torre, goodbye.

This is reason to tune in tonight. Era definition. If the Yanks win, they’ve solidified their rebound from a four-year lull back to the steely dominance of the 1990s. The Sox will have just run out of gas, and will bid adieu to their current incarnation, although – I think – the Nation has to be pleased with this team, and its tenacity and finish.

If the Sox win, a century is wiped clean. Roles are reversed. And sports’ entire landscape shifts (OK, now I’m overselling).

This is why. It’s theater. The chance to watch as history is permanently stamped. Forget what the pundits and columnists say during every sports’ playoffs, this is history, tonight. Bigger than ever before. Tune in. You’ll see.

A final parting shot to our friend Captain Rod (Alex Rodriguez). Your reputation is already solidified, my friend. We already know that 25 million isn’t enough to convince you to lead a rebuilding effort, or even to prevent you from becoming a team cancer. But I think the city of New York would agree, that $25 million should enable you to advance a runner, make a clutch hit, or actually come through when it mattered, for a change.

He’s hype, bottled up. Talent without persona. Success when it matters least. And he proved it last night. Albert Belle had more integrity bowling over second basemen. A-Rod got beat, Bronson Arroyo fooled him, and like a petulant child, A-Rod swiped at the pitcher’s glove, right before being called out.

Now, you can defend him if you like. Remember, my entire extended in-law family bleeds puke-blue and white. So I’ve heard “That Red Sox pitcher should hold onto the ball. A-Rod’s just trying to win.” Spare me. It was pathetic. Rule 6.1 exists for a reason. And watch the tape. It’s weak. A weak effort. A weak explanation. A weak player. Prima donnas, we hardly knew ye.

How’s that for fuel? (I’m sure the Yankees read this board….) Anyway, settle in.

Tonight. Game 7. This is it.

As the political season either heats up, dwindles down, or simply continues to irritate, at least there is one bastion of integrity, rising from ashes like a phoenix, and bestowing unto us all the glow of his unique and warm persona. (children’s author??!?! Hunh?!?)

Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Bill O’Reilly. And I know I’m late on this story (Are you surprised?) but, check out the last line. Is that a response to the lawsuit or is he simply transfering his sexual harassment techniques to an unfortunate reporter?

Supply your own drumbeats and cymbal clash.

This morning I encountered my second bout of surgery, outpatient, of course, and I neglected to keep a running diary, or even file a mental list of cynical complaints about the doctors’ office. I suppose it costs too much, my insurance is kind of a racket, and I’m fairly healthy, so I don’t yet have too much of an opinion on the health care system. The fact is, I was even fairly cheerful, and just excited about getting out as opposed to detailing the travails of the operation chair. Is this a sign of getting older, and moving toward the exit of my 20s — I’m more positive about stuff?

As you are undoubtedly about to snooze right now, and while I ponder that great mystery, I’m sure you’re wondering for what, pray tell, I had surgery.
Well, let me direct you — wait, no, I won’t. I’ll put it in regular text. It’s someone else’s foot (mine aren’t hairy, and it’s a damned toenail.) Anyway, med students, check here for a diagnosis — http://www.podiatryclinician.com/55_Ingrown_nail_05-210.jpeg.

Gross, huh? Well, again, that wasn’t my foot, and, please stop barfing.

Right now I’m anxious to go recover from surgery, while relaxing under the spell of extra-extra-strength Tylenol, because my foot is throbbing. At age 24, I had this done, and managed to go out drinking that same night. How I’ve lost it … along with the ability to craft coherent columns. Till next week.

Our family of sites has circulated numerous responses on the presidential debates, and before my post today I want to be clear on one thing:

To me, the vice presidential debate last night represented everything that is wrong with politics. Stats blurted out of context, smarmy comments muttered before switching arguments, and relentless spouting and evading questions.

These candidates were somewhat caricatures of themselves – the unconvinced, scoffing ogre, and the doe-eyed, idealistic, naïve youth – and it made for an uncomfortable evening. I don’t know if anyone “won,” I don’t know if it really “matters” – but I do think that it’s indicative of our increasingly polarized nature of this country.

It is insulting that one side of a public debate may continually get away with its assertions of false truths and policies, simply because of its repetition. It is awarded points from voters, media, whomever – simply for holding a stance on an issue, even if the evidence is false, the motives were disingenuous, and facts presented were completely fictional. However, the other side that questions, is ridiculed and blasted simply for a refusal to adopt any sort of hard-line stance.

I don’t think the framers of the Constitution refused to consider any other points of view, and I think they would find the current state of American policymaking extremely unfortunate. This is how far we’ve come, where one side may be lauded for simply making a decision – even if the decision is undeniably misguided — while another who questions is belittled for having the audacity to observe other points of view. Remarkable.

In other news:

Today I will begin my journey back to the surrounding area of New York City, arriving tomorrow a.m. and returning Tuesday. It was nearly four years ago that I packed ALL of my belongings into the trunk of my car and moved to the tri-state area, namely Connecticut, after graduating from college, unsure when or if I would return to the Midwest, and unsure exactly what the future held.

I moved back in 2001 and would be the first to admit I probably suffered too much wanderlust and the cabin fever that invariably comes with a 23-year-old’s first crack at an entry-level job, albeit a good one. Not sure I ever gave my time in the tri-state a fair shake, although I can honestly say, after a lot of stops, that things have worked out for the best for me.

However, I never thought I would be away from the Apple this long, I’ve long rated it as my favorite city, and it’s certainly sobering to think that the last time I stumbled around the Village, I could gain a sense of direction by looking south and glimpsing the tops of the towers. A little different, this time. I’ve tried to plan trips here and there, but I’ve moved around a lot, and it kept getting lost in the shuffle. New obligations crop up. It’s no excuse, but it occurs for everybody.

And so, it’s an exciting trip for me, I get to catch up with old friends I haven’t seen in too long, and to enjoy a part of the country that’s always going to occupy a piece of me. (cue Ashley Simpson). I only lived there for ten months, and it was agonizing at times, lonely at others, intimidating some, refreshing on occasion, and often zestful, even though I was free to wallow in self-congratulatory depression. Though I’m not sure it was, I remember it as one of the best periods in my life, not the best, not even close to as good as the last couple of years (thank you, Ms. Faded Glory), but still, a definite part of me until my untimely demise. And I guess the moral is – though clichéd as it may be – enjoy your time wherever you are, because you never quite know when you’ll make it back.

THE BOARD

1. Steve Stone and Chip Caray. Words aside about the Cubs’ late-season collapse, Steve Stone continues to assert his status as the best television analyst in the business. He’s a treat to listen to, honest, insightful, and almost prophetic from his stance in the booth.
Chip suffered through much malignment as WGN’s main man, and, admittedly suffered through growing pains (and a two-year run with the abysmal Joe Carter and Dave Otto. Absolutely awful) but he improved, and developed an outstanding chemistry with Stone. Alas, the Tribsters decided to offer Chip a meaningless raise, and he bolted for home, and more money. Perhaps the most painful part of a trying season, the final curtain call. And it’s no guarantee Stone will return, not when he suffered ridicule by mediocre Cubs players.
2. Cold Pizza. The morning show featuring a close friend of MFG is actually growing into its own. Less style than substance, it is often more interesting than it’s hype-machine cousin. Its anchors actually have some journalistic (!) and sports props*. How about that, a sports show not fueled by hype. On ESPN, no less. I must be dreaming. About today’s edition — where was fan favorite Rocco? Is his own show in the works? *Note: comments do not include inane rants by has-beens Woody Paige and Skip Bayless. Yuck.
3. Thom Brennaman. Please come home to the Cubs booth. You started here, you’re very good, and it would have to spite your Fox playoff partner Steve Lyons. (Yeesh.)
4. Wildlife Wars. Happened upon this little gem on Saturday night. If you’ve been missing terribly-acted re-creations of true stories since Unsolved Mysteries left, or if you simply wonder who brought down an entire redneck sturgeon-smuggling operation, this show is for you!
“The only thing I wanna tangle with is some sturgeon!”
“I’ve got a fever. And the only prescription, is more cowbell!”
5. Joe Theismann, Paul McGuire, Pat Summerall. Possibly the most underwhelming announcer trio in NFL history, now I catch myself watching ESPN’s Sunday Night Game just to hear: (1) The robotic voice of Pat, possibly computer-generated. (2) Paul McGuire stammer and sputter before trying to hammer home THE BIGGEST POINT IN THE NATIONAL FOOTBALL LEAGUE, (“Lemme tell ya. You know who’s gotta, I say you know who’s gotta point to make now, you ain’t seen nuthin’ like it!”) and (3) Joe Theismann continually name-drop. Apparently he has a private dinner with every player in every organization immediately before game time. This is put much more succinctly and funny right here, if you scroll down.

The Bored

6. CBS, Jim Nantz, Phil Simms. From the network that manufactures news, here comes a bonehead football decision. Apparently some suit decided that Patriots/Bills was the featured game of the week, because the pathetic No. 1 team of Nantz and Simms came on TV at noon. Sure, the Pats have a streak, but, come on, the Bills are terrible!
Just because a team is the defending champs, doesn’t merit featuring every one of their games. A Midwestern team, the Colts, played undefeated Jax, in a nailbiter, and we were stuck with the battle of the Northeast, won handily by New England.
Some of these programming decisions are mind-boggling. And don’t get me started on CBS’ new ‘GameTrax.’ It seems Tiffany and the Fox Network are racing to be the first to televise a football game with the live action completely obscured. Stay tuned!
7. Cubs fans. If I read another email letter, or read another columnist hack, or hear another dumbass fan complain that they enjoyed seasons so much better when the Cubs were “Lovable Losers,” I’m going to throw up. Yeah, sure, you had a better time in 1999. That’s ludicrous.
I’ll take a petulant 89-73 team any year over a crappy 60-win team. Hello, you play to win the game.
8. Fox News – The Best of. Only on an imitable Fox late-night Sunday can you see Sean Hannity interview Ann Coulter, followed up by Bill O’Reilly’s hilarious interview with our president. (You don’t get a fair shake, do you. You can say it, c’mon, I’ll be your friend. Those damn liberals.)
Yikes. Kermit the Frog had more integrity interviewing the Snuffelupagus.
9. Saturday Night Live. I agree Jimmy Fallon’s time had come, but it’s clear now that he also left a sinking ship.
10. Late-posted debate items. Tough to be poignant when you are 14 hours and 32 minutes late. Nice try, smart guy.

Disclaimer: My quotations are attributed, but are paraphrases. None are verbatim.

Well, he almost got there. Almost.

I, like thousands of other debate watchers last night, have already made up my mind for whom to voter. I went in simply hoping that Kerry could outclass and outwit our current commander-in-chief, rising above our president’s sniveling arrogance.

And he almost brought it home. Kerry’s greatest flaw as an orator is one that should have been corrected in law school – as he sees an opening in an argument, he rebuts it well, but rather than bringing it home, he tends to expound into several different arenas.

This perhaps indicates curiosity, but also perhaps indicates lack of focus. In any case, last evening, during the debate, the president was dancing around the topic of Iraq invasion, because on Sept. 11, the world changed. “We were attacked. (snort).”

That’s when Kerry said, “Yes, Osama Bin Laden attacked us. He was the enemy. And instead of sending troops further pressuring him in Afgahanistan, we shifted the focus to Iraq.”

Kerry had the chance. He lined up, it appeared he was going to quash this stupid, Republican-spin nonsense (if you repeat it enough, it’s true) that OBL and Hussein were always linked. He was close. It was there for the taking, to once and for all, say, “Mr. President, you f’d up. You said we’d find a connection between OBL and Saddam. We didn’t. There wasn’t one. You attacked the wrong area, and you tried to sell it to us as completely justified.” Or something to that effect.

But he didn’t say it. Arrgh! C’mon! He started to, but didn’t drive it home. He was close, and his rebuttal was satisfying for me, and perhaps other liberal viewers, but, well, we’ve made our choice. Not sure that we count. It’s America. Keep it simple, stupid. Bring it home.

He balked one other time. Read about it ,here.

Other thoughts:

Did the president just ask, “We must attack and prevent terrorist threats before they’re allowed to realize?” Did he really say that? Is that not conflicting with all principles of our “innocent-until-proven-guilty” justice system?
I have a considerable problem with a system that purports to carefully assimilate evidence beyond a reasonable doubt, determines whether or not threats may be imminent to assert self-defense, etc., — but doesn’t hold our country’s actions to at least a comparable standard. But conservatives would say I’m a wimp. Whatever.

Did the president really bring up missile defense again? For crying out loud, is there a worse, more false, aloof, idiotic calling card than a promised defense shield? The flaws are endless, it’s expensive to produce, replete with insecurities and defects in all forms, and is, of course, insufficient to defend against pressing security concerns, namely a small-scale terrorist nuclear attack. Yet people must just lap this shit up, because it keeps coming out of politicians’ mouths, ever since Reagan promised Star Wars. Eye roll of the night.

“We’ll never succeed in Iraq unless we convince Iraqis to take the law into their own hands.”
Great. Let’s just send Batman over their to train them.

The bottom line at the debate was Kerry. I was impressed with him, he was much more succinct, confident, and strong than his portrayals since late summer showed. There was fact-exaggeration on either side, but Kerry calmly answered most questions, stuck to his (win the peace, mistake in Iraq, stop proliferation, get bin Laden) guns, and finally, said what has been on my mind since Bush II began.

Absolute certainty, and the desire to cling strictly to that certainty, is a fatal flaw in a president.

Now, Kerry didn’t explicitly say that, but this was his most clear point on the night. He is willing to collaborate. To listen. To work with other nations. To acknowledge situations might be tougher than they appear. Mr. Bush’s administration does not do this. It does not matter whether they believe they are right or not. They refuse to acknowledge the possibility that there: is another, are other, or could be other, ways to accomplish goals. They refuse to learn from mistakes, cleverly spinning their rationales so fast and furious that their audience cannot escape a predisposed message.
Their certitude is unending, and in the end, it is their certainty that is their undoing.

My favorite president, Bill Clinton, (yeah, laugh) says the most important quality a president can have is curiosity. I agree with that as well. The desire to learn more about all situations present and future, in order to arrive at the most informed decision. I do believe that Kerry has this. And I do hope that can save him. Because this faux-certainty that the administration is unfailingly right and will save us, as long as we are fearful and vigilant, is incredibly damaging. It’s arrogant and reeks of hubris, and will spell the fall of America at some point in the future.

I’ve long believed that the Bush II clan is a bunch of corporate friends, who didn’t really seek to go into politics, but it just happened to fall in their lap as they pursued corporate interests. They didn’t laugh it off or try and avoid public office, rather they first dabbled, then exploited, and now are in way over their heads. But I digress.

This morning, most major newspapers believe Kerry “won” the debate. (Except, of course, my former home. What in the hell.). I don’t know if that is possible, but he came close. He looked prepared, strong, succinct – whereas Bush looked flummoxed, confused and testy. Bush clung to two talking points – the flip-flopping and the certitude – and continually tried to refute Kerry by holding JK to the letter of his statements. At one point, when Bush didn’t appear to understand “proliferation,” Kerry finally appeared exasperated with Bush’s tedious semantic defiance, and the challenger almost rolled his eyes.

In any case, Kerry may have given his image what it needed, a kick-start. However, debates never win or lose a presidency. Most who watch are already decided, and simply are seeking to take pride in any downfall or snafu on the other side. Differing media outlets likely craft their version likely before the event even starts. Any undecided viewers are frustrated with doublespeak as well as the media coverage. However, while you may not be able to win a nomination in a debate, you can certainly lose it, and I don’t believe Kerry did that. See here for a similar perspective. Or here.

Anyway, random thoughts. Back later.