Bad Week

This blog entry is coming to you a little bit earlier on Thursday night than it usually does, as I am excusing myself later in the evening to catch a showing of Star Trek. Yeah, if you haven't figured it out already, I'm a big ol' regular nerd in addition to a big ol' sports nerd, and I would be doing one of my favorite franchises of all time a disservice by not seeing the motion picture that may or may not reboot its legacy on opening night. But that is neither here nor there--I'm here to talk about sports.

I have a confession to make. I've been having a lot of trouble writing sports blogs lately. I really enjoy doing it, but recently it has become a fight to come up with good topics. My favorite entries are the ones in which I can somehow relate sports to my own life with amusing anecdotes and my own take on sports in general. Unfortunately, there hasn't been too much going on in the sports world lately that has allowed me to do that, and as a result, I've been struggling for material. I dunno if it's just a fluke or what. I admittedly have also been dedicating more time to some other projects, but those are behind me now, and I can put more focus back on the blog. On top of that, I've been trying to avoid writing entries in which I just analyze what's going on in sports, because you can read a thousand other blogs and articles by guys actually trained to do that who will probably do a much better job than I can.

Fortunately, a few things happened this week both in sports and in my own life that made it kind of a rotten week. They don't really relate to each other, but it might make for a somewhat entertaining entry.

Sunday -- The Cardinals game was rained out. I was pretty disappointed, but on the plus side, I got to see about ten episodes of The Golden Girls on the Hallmark Channel that were part of a Bea Arthur tribute marathon. I didn't get to watch any baseball, but I did get to see more than my fill of one of the best written and classiest sitcoms in television history. Seriously, go ask your parents if you don't believe me--it was a great show.

Monday -- Rick Ankiel fell head first into the outfield wall. When I saw Chris Duncan pick up the ball to throw it back in, then elect instead to drop everything and tend to his friend, I was terrified for Rick. Here he was, just two years removed from fighting his way all the way back to the major league level, only to have his career ended by injury. I thought about that first home run he hit after being called up to the majors, and how uncharacteristically ecstatic La Russa was when it happened, and I hoped this wasn't the end for Ankiel. Fortunately, he's fine and just on the 15-day disabled list. It could've been so much worse.

Tuesday -- I got rear-ended on my way to work--the first automobile accident I've ever been in. I'm fine, but my car has seen better days. It's sort of put me in a funk since it happened, mostly because I'm stressing out about unresolved repairs and insurance claims, and I'm scared things aren't going to work out or that someone will find a way to hose me.

Wednesday -- I learned of a scheduled meeting between Vikings head coach Brad Childress and allegedly retired quarterback Brett Favre. I'm just so tired of this guy. I already wrote one blog entry about Favre becoming a caricature of his former self and why he just needs to go home and never come back, and I would have written another had I not heard today that he plans to stay retired. But remember--it's only May. Favre has another four months to change his mind. And when he does, I'll be here to complain about it.

Thursday -- When I got home from work, I forgot to cover the cream of potato soup I was making for supper, and it exploded all over my microwave. The bowl jumped literally an inch off the microwave turntable, and I lost about half the soup. I don't know what went wrong--that's never happened before. My microwave has a reputation around the neighborhood for being incredibly powerful, but I didn't know it could do something like that. The soup had only been in there a minute...c'mon. I got so mad that I failed to make my own supper that I vowed to go out and find the unhealthiest meal in town and eat five of them. I eventually calmed down and ate the remaining half a bowl of soup and some Cheez-Its. Cheez-Its will make anything better.

Not only that, we also learned on Thursday that Manny Ramirez was suspended 50 games for testing positive for a performance-enhancing drug. I'm not a fan of Manny, nor am I fan of Manny being Manny, so I'm not too upset about the suspension. Yeah, he's got personality, which I typically like to see in an athlete. But Manny's cuteness and eccentricities have grown irritating, and it's also pretty clear that he purposely doesn't always give 100%, and that'll quickly turn me against an athlete. I won't miss Manny while he's suspended, but the suspension itself is another one of those grim reminders that we're still smack-dab in the middle of the steroid era, and that a bunch of players that we support and care about and--most importantly--believe in, will end up testing positive before we're past it. I really hope Albert Pujols is clean--if he ever tests positive, it's gonna be hard to watch baseball for awhile, or regard all the good Cardinals baseball of the past decade with much legitimacy.

So there it is. That was my week. Two straight Cardinal wins have helped pick up my spirits, and so will the fact that I have a day off on Friday.

And now, if you'll excuse me, I intend to calm my nerves by spending the evening in space...the final frontier....