Monday, July 26, 2004

Sports-Related Nonsense

Sorry for the lack of posting today...I honestly expected to click on Slack and see a wonderfully written, Pulitzer-winning post from Donnie about his trip to Fenway on Friday. But alas, it's not to be. Guess you'll have to settle for the pointless drivel that lurks below. "Alas" is just a fuckin' awesome word.

It's amazing, I haven't missed watching a Yankums/Sawx game in three seasons. And yet the one day I'm away and cannot get to a television, the two teams brawl like Youngblood and Racki. Speaking of the Yanks, the disappointing Jason Giambi is currently being tested for a potentially fatal disease caused by intestinal parasites. It's not funny, and I wish for the healthiest and speediest recovery known to man. But what the fuck man, what does this mean for my fantasy team? It's not like Giambi was any good of late, but you knew he'd come around eventually. Now it appears he might sit out the whole season, and I was counting on that fat fuck to re-emerge as the All-Star slugger he should be.

This reminds me of my first fantasy baseball draft ever. About three days to a week after our first ever draft, Steve Olin and two other drunk Injun relievers took to a fishing boat at their Spring Training site. Night fishing turned into headless speedboat rides, as Olin was decapitated by the dock (the other two, no-luck Bobby Ojeda and Tim Crews, no relation to Tom, suffered serious injuries but at least kept their heads). My first reaction as a human was to gasp horribly and grieve a little for a man's lost life. But as the Commissioner of our inaugural foray into fantasy baseball, I immediately knew I had to grant an "special draft pick" to the team with Olin's rights. Basically what I'm saying here is, I should get a special draft pick if Giambi dies. If he dies, he dies. But gimme an extra pick-up, willya?

One final sports note...I was also away for the Ricky Williams fiasco, this guy just up and deciding to quit football. I'm happy for the guy, he seems happy and now he can suffer from serious anxiety disorder in peace. But I'm not so sure this isn't just a Michael Jordan conspiracy theory in the making. To refresh your memory, many people claimed that MJ retired because his serious gambling problem and subsequent debts were about to be made public. Or something like that. I think the same case can be made for Ricky Williams and his drug problems. Rickey allegedly failed a drug test a few months ago, and he was going to be re-tested. My theory goes that RW failed a second test, and rather than have his little problem exposed, he decided to retire and leave that problem unpublished. Not saying it's what happened, but I wouldn't be surprised. Look for a return from Ricky for the 2006 season, if not next season. Just a thought...

A great, refreshing weekend in the books, and I feel pretty darn good. Let's do it, folks.


At 3:36 PM, Blogger Bart Starbux said...

Sorry, Bullet, but I don't buy your Ricky theory.

First of all, Ricky has never made much secret of his debilitating addiction to hot. He's failed two tests, and has openly admitted to using more masking agents than Donnie before his foreign service exam.

B) Ricky is nowhere near the beloved, god-like figure that Jordan was. Would it really shatter the hopes of millions worldwide and tarnish a clean-cut image if it came out that Ricky smokes doobies? No way. So why now, the cat TOTALLY out of the bag (if I knew how to do cool links, I trust you know what I'd link that last phrase to), we're supposed to think that Taggie and Ricky worked out a special deal to keep him from falling out of the public's good graces?

And III. There may never have been any person in any sport as competitive as Jordan. He's a maniac about shit. Seriously, he compares turd sizes with any takers. So when he quit because he had nothing left to prove, nobody bought that shit. He needed basketball like I need Silver Strike. He would NEVER have walked away unless he absolutely had to. Can the same be said for Ricky? No chance. Even after he discovered the miracle of modern phamacology and was able to go to the mall without peeing his britches, everybody knew he was a headcase. The guy did football because he could, but he didn't get off on the shit. He didn't live for it. This really isn't all that surprising to me. If I told you one elite running back was going to freak out and go awol in Tokyo just before training camp, wouldn't he be your first guess? He's out like Ali at Jenga, dog.

At 5:36 PM, Blogger Ace Cowboy said...

Yeah, I think you're probably right...and I don't even necessarily believe in my own theory. But I do think something's rotten in the state of Crazy; there's gotta be something to the fact that he just up and left the game of football. Maybe Ricky's doctor said he'd quit prescribing his patient horse tranquilizers if he continued to play football. Maybe Ricky felt that retiring would have given him that Barry-like air of mystery. All I know is, there's more to this story than meet's the visor-shielded eyes...


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