A-Wimp

Now that I've coached my softball team to an unprecdented 3-0 start, I thought I could strut my stuff much like a certain cheered/reviled celebrity third baseman for a major team where I lived for five years. I figured power shots on magazine covers were right around the corner for my beautiful wife and me, as well.

Then I read where Cynthia Rodriguez detailed how A-Rod passed out in the delivery room during the birth of his first child.



I'll find out in November if I can take the heat, but, really, passing out in the delivery room? What kind of a man does that while his wife is doing all of the work? What a big pantywaist. He can't run back to the minors fast enough...

"Anyone can understand the way I feel"

On this historic day, sixty-one years ago, Jackie Robinson broke the color barrier to become the first black player in Major League Baseball. With the Nationals' brand new stadium in the District, the Caps in the NHL playoffs, and the Wizards threatening to do...something, these are exciting times for professional sports around the Potomac!

(Uh, nevermind that the Nats only just recently broke a nine game losing streak. This is Washington, DC. What, if anything, do you honestly expect to work correctly here?)

Anyway, Tuesday is opening night for the Alexandria Co-Ed Softball League. Less historically, I'm coaching my third season for our Academy softball team. As thrilling as Robinson's Brooklyn Dodgers were, they weren't the archetype for my team. No, my team sadly has another template:

Yeah, whatever happened to them, huh?

Among other area assocation and non-profit teams, we will play PBS twice this season. Last year, as you might've read, we had a bench clearing but ultimately thoughtful brawl with the mighty Public Broadcasting System. Charlie Rose got up in my face but I kicked dirt on his big round table, so he backed down. Not before I plugged him with my latest book, however.

"My maiden aunt's mind is vicious - Gosh your lips look delicious "

The NFL's most infamous "12th man" was in front of me at the security station at DFW International Airport yesterday. She's short. I assume she was splitting town in a relative hurry.

Jessica Simpson Completes Elaborate Plan To Destroy Cowboys' Season

Before she moved on to killing major sports franchises, Jessica Simpson was murdering American popular standards with her amiable ex-husband:



Apparently, if you catch the credits, I directed this trainwreck. I can't remember, so I must've been in my usual cocaine haze before the carnage ensued...

Tiger, Tiger, burning bright

Both my father-in-law and mother-in-law were at University of Missouri. He picked up a law degree and she received a master's degree in political science. Most importantly, they met there and eventually got married.

For the first time in 47 years, Mizzou is ranked number one in college football. If they win against Oklahoma, they can play for the BCS national title. But that's a big 12 if. The Sooners already beat them earlier in the fall. The Tigers were leading that game going into the fourth quarter, however, so it should be close tonight.

Beating Kansas last week probably made Mizzou's season, given their nasty rivalry. I was too concerned with (and eventually mildly embittered over) the Commonwealth Cup last weekend to pay close attention. We all fight our own battles...

Gwen's dad and I will watch. Gwen and her mom, I dunno. They'll probably make fun of us with either this or this on in another room.

It's funny because it's true

Walking Sports Database Scorns Walking Sci-Fi Database

We're all three music geeks to such an extent that we can instantly incapacitate casual, normal fans with no mere mortal minutiae. Still, I thought of one of my favorite Onion articles when I sensed Dave's wordlessly damning Keith's and my mutual enthusiasm for fanboy ephemera (that shall remain unnamed) in a Suncoast store. We were killing time in a Maryland mall across the street from Merriweather Post Pavilion a couple of hours before the Bob Dylan and Elvis Costello concert back in September.

On a somewhat related note, turns out one of my graphic designer colleagues at the Academy used to work for Mego in the seventies. She even painted the heads of the actual prototype 1970s KISS toys that were shipped to China for mass production. "Which guy had the star on his face?" she asked me. "He was my favorite." I think it's pretty cool. I even forwarded her that Mego Museum link and she got in touch with them. They want to interview her for a newsletter and invited her to speak at a convention, I swear. Everybody's a celebrity in somebody's world, I suppose.

"So, I tell them I'm a pro jock, and who do you think they give me? The Dalai Lama himself..."

Here's one of my cats posing with the baseball cap my Dad was wearing when he met the one and only Bill Murray at a golf tournament in South Carolina last summer. Dad said he was as funny and gracious in person as you would hope him to be. Mr. Murray talked with my Dad and stepmom several minutes while they walked the fairway. He signed both of their caps, one of which Dad gave me this past weekend. (I swear I didn't ask him for it.) I autographed a brand new UVa cap (which I just, you know, happened to have) for him in return. Okay, so it's clearly not the same, I know.

Anyway, continuing with our celebration of all things Chicago this year at 'Round Midnight, here's one of the funniest guys in history calling a Cubs game back in 1987. (DC residents, we know where those Montreal Expos ended up a couple of decades later, don't we?)