SaWA

If you know me at all, you know I dig the sports. I generally avoid writing a lot about them here, because that's not really what I had in mind for this blog when I started it. OK, in fairness, I didn't really have much in mind for this blog when I started it, other than that it was a way to share information with a few people about the status of my facial hair without spamming them. But that's really beside the point. The point is that this blog isn't really about sports, even though I've mentioned them from time to time.

I do talk and write about sports, though, often via IM with Lawton or on the phone with the BHK or with some random clown dipping in our conversation as we leave a UVA basketball game last Sunday night. With all that talking and writing, a new blog has been born. I've gone and created Statler and Waldorf Arena, a blog where sports are written about. The beauty of it is that you don't just have to endure my drivel about sports there. Lawton is adding his drivel about sports as well. We're, like, co-bloggers and stuff. So far it would seem that I like numbers and Lawton likes pictures. Really, there are too many numbers in there, but we (I suppose that really means me, since I'm the one throwing up all those digits) hope to clean that up over time.

Take a look if you like. If not, I still plan on posting more of the Chronicles here.

Roy!

Two Saturdays ago, the BHK invited me to make use of his second seat to the Georgetown - UConn game at the Phone Booth in DC, an invitation that I happily accepted.

I should explain that happiness. Sure, I will typically be happy to accept any free ticket to watch college hoops in person, especially when I know both the company and the seats will be good. However, I grew up hating the Hoyas. I'm not sure that I can explain why, other than that they seemed to be the opposite of what I liked in basketball, even at a young age. My perception may not have matched reality, but I thought they can't shoot. No one moves because they don't really run an offense. They play a gahdam zone defense! The Iverson years did nothing but cement my feelings about them, and having Craig Esherick as coach only amplified them. That guy was an awful coach, from my perspective. It was during Esherick's reign that I first accompanied the BHK to the occasional game, and it was perhaps more brutal in person than on TV. On TV, at least I can change the channel. The BHK, a lifelong G-town fan, even discontinued his season tickets for a year as his monetary protest of Escherick. That's how bad he was.

Things started to change once JT3 came along to change things. They still play some zone on D, but I've changed my stance on that over the years. The real key is that their offense is a joy to watch. I've come to root for them, and I generally watch them when it's convenient to do so (i.e. it doesn't conflict with an IU game).

Hmm. Sorry. That explanation got out of control there. The point is that we were watching a very close game, in which I was rooting for the Hoyas. The score was tied as Georgetown got the ball with 39 seconds left. They took a timeout to set things up. They moved the ball around when play resumed, but they couldn't get any open looks. They swung the ball around, nothing. The shot clock was winding down and DaJuan Summers had the ball, saw an open man at the top of the key, and fired it to him. The guy took the ball and launched a 3-pointer. As it went up, I thought we were headed for overtime, because the open guy was Roy Hibbert. Roy Hibbert, the All-Everything center. The 7'-2" All-Everything center. The lumbering, non-athletic, non-explosive, slow of foot, 7'-2"All-Everything center. The buzzer went off, just before the shot hit nothing but the bottom of the net.

The Phone Booth exploded in noise. The crowd went bonkers. It wasn't quite a game-ending buzzer beater, but it was close enough in my book. There's nothing quite like being part of the crowd when the home team hits a huge shot at the end of the game like that. It. Was. Awesome! UConn called a timeout, then came back in and turned the ball over to end the game.

During that last timeout, the Georgetown band started playing Survivor's "Eye of the Tiger." In time with the opening sequence of heavy beats, the crowd appropriately chanted/yelled/sang,

Roy!

Roy, Roy, Roy!

Roy, Roy, Roy!

Roy, Roy, Royyyyyyyyyyy

Just excellent, excellent stuff. Thanks to the BHK for the seat. Here's the video (for as long as it lasts on YouTube).

The Case Against Professional Photography

I've never really known what to do with those little pictures I get in the mail of people's kids. I look at them, think they're cute, ugly, or hilariously odd. After that, though, the confusion sets in. Should I frame them? Put them on the fridge? What if people saw them in my house? Would they think I was some kind of perv? I can't be having that. But some people think that throwing away pictures of someone else's kid is a sin on par with carrying on more than 2 oz. of liquid at the airport or ripping off mattress tags or something. So what I typically do is put them in a pile for what I consider an appropriate amount of time (which tends to be until I notice them the next time several months later), after which I throw them away. Still, my discomfort with these pictures doesn't really show the general problem with them, especially with group shots. To that end, I give you this link, sent to me by non-somnolent readers FJ (over a week ago) and the Spaceball (just yesterday). (Really, they emailed me the contents, but we know how to use Google here at the Chronicles.) Go ahead and check it out, and beware the photos you commission.

I will just add one more comment, though. The one that really sticks with me, and not in a good way, is the one with the mousy teenage girl flanked by the two mullet-adorned, bare-chested males. I can't decide if that's a strange, fetishist kidnapper situation, or a perhaps stranger family photo. If it's the latter, can you imagine that girl explaining that picture on the wall when her first boyfriend comes over in high school? I can't either.

Waiting to Explode

This weekend, for some reason, I grabbed a box of Mentos at the grocery store. Finding them in my jacket pocket on the way to work this morning, I ate a couple. They are the fresh maker after all, and fresh couldn't be a bad way to start the work week. However, remembering the video makes me wonder what will happen when I drink the Diet Coke sitting in front of me. So this is a warning to all of you that this may be my last post ever. If you hear a pop in the distance, that might very well be me exploding.

The Season of Not Giving

My family has operated Christmas based on lists for as long as I can remember. If you wanted gifts, you had to make a list. And having those lists was huge for my brother and me, given that we almost never did any Christmas shopping. We always did Christmas buying, and we always did it on or around the 21st - 23rd of December, as that was when we arrived in Indy from our more coastally located homes. (It's really kind of impressive. We're machines when we do that.) Over the years, though, we've had more and more trouble coming up with lists. Part of it is that we don't think we need much stuff. Part is that I went through a traumatic experience when moving out of a house I lived in for 6 years and ended up throwing away enough stuff to fill a small apartment, and, as a result, I try to be somewhat resistant to stuff accumulation. And part is that these days, for the most part, when we want something, we just buy it.

So this year we kind of suggested that our folks not bother getting us Christmas presents. We weren't really lacking for stuff, and it seemed kind of silly for anyone to buy us things that we didn't really want or need. Due in part to some other circumstances, our folks pretty much agreed. There were a couple of gifts that had already been purchased before we negotiated the cease fire, but we really didn't do much gift giving. And that was fine. Really, it would be nice to just get together and relax and enjoy each other's company until we drove each other nuts and then go home.

Now we didn't intend this cessation of gift giving (which was really motivated by a desire to avoid gift receiving, but you can't have one and not the other) to be a far-reaching thing. In fact, before I departed for Indy, I saw that my company was collecting money to give to a local homeless shelter, and I gave the cash in my wallet one afternoon. It wasn't a big deal or anything, and it's certainly not something I should pat myself on the back about. It was just one of those, "Oh. Here you go," kinds of things. So why am I bringing it up, you ask? Good question.

The reason I'm bringing it up is that I got a call from the receptionist today saying that she had some money for me. I thought that was odd, but I'm not inclined to argue when someone randomly says she wants to give me money, so I went up there to collect it. [Notice how I've avoided all tasteless jokes about how certain females had better have my money at certain times lest they experince unpleasantness. The thought never even crossed my mind. Are you proud or disappointed?] It turns out that something hadn't worked with giving the money to the homeless shelter while I was gone, and they were just returning my donation. I guess that non-gift giving thing extended farther than I expected or intended.

I hope you got everything you wanted for Christmas this year, even if it was nothing.