I am in a great mood tonight. The weather is perfect, I have a slight buzz, my eldest boy did a great job polishing off a blue popsicle, and "Cowgirl in the Sand" hit me just right in the car. Speaking of Neil, I listened to "Too Far Gone" in the car on the way home from work and decided that it is top ten for me in terms of remembering the romantic angst of high school. And in my world, it was all angst.
With Chipper out, the Braves get nothing from any of the four corner spots. They're a bizarro lineup: strong at the hardest spots to fill and weak at the easiest.
There is an Ohio State fan sitting next to me at the bar and two older dudes are prosecuting him about the Southeastern Conference being all over the Big Ten. I keep waiting for the Buckeye to say something to ignite me. No luck yet. On second thought, what could I possibly say when the Vest owns me? My neighbor does use silverware, so there's something new.
I am feeling Jair Jurrjens right now. He just pitched out of runner on third and one out. I am still befuddled as to how bases loaded and no outs earlier yielded no runs. I'm feeling a 1991 game seven flashback. For the record, I have always defended Lonnie Smith for falling for the Knoblauch fake. We don't know that he would have scored and it's not his fault that third and second and no outs produced no runs. On the other hand, how is Jack Morris's rep different if Smith scores on Pendleton's hit and the Braves win 1-0? Kinda like how Zidane's reputation is a little different if Buffon doesn't make the amazing save on his header in the 2006 World Cup Final and he never rhino-charges Materazzi.
I read Bill Simmons' pissing and moaning about KG's injury last night and had one thought: this is a Boston fan in his natural habitat. Screw all the championships; he is most familiar with the terrain of "woe is me!". It's such an unforeseeable shock and injustice that a team with three stars over 30 would finally have a major injury. Boo f'in hoo. And I say this with the caveat that I've been enjoying Simmons' podcast recently.
Johnny Cash has a.great song called "I Never Picked Cotton." It's about how he was always his own man and marched to the beat of his own drummer. I think of it every time my boss makes me put.an apostrophe and an "s" after a word ending in "s" even when I'm sure that it doesn't belong based on the sound of the word. I pick cotton. Or, as Dylan says, we all gotta serve somebody.
Tony Barnhart did something annoying this morning. In his ppst about questions for this weekend, he referred to Russell Shepherd as the top quarterback recruit in the country. I don't know of a single service that had anyone but Matt Barkley as the top high school quarterback, but Barnhart has to play the regional card. Would it have killed him to refer to Shepherd as a top quarterback as opposed "the" top quarterback?
As of April 17 and without having scoured Phil Steele, my conference sleeper is Arkansas. I was right about Ole Miss last year, so pay attention, 007.
My favorite players on the local pro sports teams:
Braves - Kelly Johnson
Falcons - Jerious Norwood
Hawks - Al Horford
Thrashers - no one thanks to Don Waddell
Starting this weekend, Barca have five big La Liga matches including contests against the rest of the top of the league, two matches against Chelsea, and the Copa del Rey final. For those of you who like the blog and don't like footie, I apologize in advance. Incidentally, I'm a little inclined to root for United against the Arse because Barca have a chance of being an all-time great team and the best way to achieve that would be to beat the defending European champs and two-time defending EPL champs in Rome. Might even make the Blaugrana the team of the decade, right Klinsi?