Only requesting one type of segregation

Wow, look at that Greek God! Oh wait, that's me bearded and 15 pounds lighter. Those were the days.

In a quarterly effort of beating my body to a pulp a trying to create a new record for reciting the only memorable quote from Lethal Weapon, I decided to sign up for a half-marathon training at a local running store (redacted). I won the training during a silent auction, so I might as well use it. Besides, my whole "one-man wolfpack" routine wasn't working out other than looking for strippers and cocaine (calm down, it's a movie quote). So, it was a common-sense move for someone that wanted another crack at the White Rock track...but only half.

Picture yourself, waking up at four-fifteen in the morning every other day (Tuesday, Thursday and Sunday). In the waking moments, you stumble around in the darkness looking for all of your new and updated running accoutrement. The Garmin watch is clear across the way from the specially-designed running socks which is opposite room of the quick breakfast pellets to snack on pre-run. While the sleep is trying to escape your eyes, YOU HAVE TO DRIVE to the running store where the group meets (quick aside: I hate the fact I have to drive to run. I should just run...but it is a bit far for a warmup jog from the house...still hate that, though).

The car is in park. The inventory continues: watch, visor, car key separation, water bottle belt, Sports Beans, heart monitor, forgetting to powder your thighs and tape your nipples but you will tough it out. There is now a constant pile of a change of clothes and towels for the aftermath. As the truck doors are locked, there is a deep inhalation of a warm, almost radioactive, air rising from the roads that are about to be run. Get ready for 05:15...that's when it starts.

Sounds fun, right?

With record temperatures for the past--oh--sixty days (!), oh-dark-thirty is about the only safe time to attempt a run more than four miles. But it's not the waking or the anticipation of tearing my body down that ruins the group runs for me.

Maybe it's my background of adolescent locker rooms and two hulking brothers also into sports or just my general comfort level with my company during athletic endeavors...but there is an element to my group run that makes me dread Tuesday, Thursday and Sunday (other than the avoidance of alcohol on Monday, Wednesday and Saturday--boo!).

"You know, this is almost as hard as child birth."

"Oh my gosh, it is so hot out here. And I'm tired."

"You can tell that race doesn't cater to women. There race shirts were awful."

"My assistant is such a moron. She can't do one thing right."

"Are you on travel because I'm not on travel if you are on travel."

"Have you read 'The Help' or are you going to see the movie first?"

You guessed it. It's not the time or day or the strain of effort, it's the fact that I am running with a dozen women that just won't stop talking. Jeezie Chreezie, it is five-fucking-fifteen in the morning! What the hell is so important at 5:15 that you have to prattle on about it for four miles? I don't care about your job. I don't care about your kids. I don't care that you had to invite a person you didn't want to invite to happy hour. It is 5:15! Why are you talking? Stop talking and run!

Now, I don't mean to be misogynistic. And damnit if I'm not the first one in line to say I love women. To boot, all of these women in my running group are beautiful and athletic. Plus, I don't want to degrade a system that has been around a lot longer than my lone-wolf ass. The unnamed running store has fantastic coaches and a great system that keeps runners alive. For those facts, the store has nothing to do with my consternation of the group. I guess I just need to run faster.

The aimless chatter issue came to a head when we had to consolidate running groups due to a shortage of coaches. The addition of the dozen or so ladies that have nothing to do but to talk and run consumed the full-marathon group we latched onto. Ladies talking to new people...silence didn't stand a chance. The overwhelmed coach asked everyone to keep the volume down to no avail. Poor homeowners in affluent neighborhoods were subjected to my every-other-day hell.

In this case, I think a bit of segregation wouldn't hurt. Granted, the groups would be super small. My current group of 15 would be whittled to three (including me). And the limited conversations (you know, because we are running six friggin' miles at five in the morning) would be a bit more soluble.

"I sold my S2000 for a Mercedes Benz. I do miss that little Honda, though."

"Ah, that hill wasn't that bad, was it?"

"I just farted. Watch your 12 o'clock." (I made that one up because no one has had the balls to say that yet.)

I know this is merely an extension of what these ladies do while we are running. I complain. I gripe. I moan. But at least I'm fully awake when I do it. Don't get me wrong, the ladies in the group are very nice and I have had a couple of conversations, including football, with a couple of the runners. But man, sometimes it's nice to lose yourself in the run with the safety and protection of the group. Realizing I will only get that at the final mile when everyone is gassed is a saving grace. Let's just say group runs and solo runs have their respective pluses and minuses.

Lessons Learned, my three things.
1) It's hard not to over-think the obvious when the analysis begs for re-examination. However, sometimes the easiest answer is the best answer.
2) Don't you hate it when your state-sponsored cyber attack tools and strategy is leaked? Yeah, me too.
3) "Insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results."
BONUS (while writing this post): Boy, that escalated quickly... I mean it got out of hand really fast.

So, I am going to continue to take my medicine for the next 12-13 weeks, silence or lack thereof. If you see me not finish a beer or cocktail, it's because all this running is souring my taste for getting drunk (which is really messing with the image). Need to start locking down study time and fantasy football time. How about that collision of priorities. Talk later.

Garbage Time - Sports are great until television ruins it

How the hell did Brian Cardinal get back to Dallas so soon after the game?

I called Mavs in 7. I was wrong. Oh well. Once again the sports spotlight is focused on the fair city of Dallas (not Arlington, thankfully). I am happy for the Mavs and all of their devoted fans. I am pleased to see the city in sports euphoria. What I was not pleased about was the NBA coverage ABC served on a cold plate of LeBron James.

As a small placation from the four-letter network (you know, the guys that run the sports operations at ABC since the mid-nineties—Disney), they have instituted an ombudsman…of sorts. In years past, they have employed journalistic hard hitters to show their teeth to what is wrong with ESPN and what they are doing right. This seems to alleviate the “too big to fail” axiom of “hey, we have a watchdog…see?” Now, they don’t call it an ombudsman anymore. ESPN pulled a Dell and has just outsourced to a media analysis team that yield not-as-impressive credentials as some of the previous Knights of the Veil.

Here now is my open letter to ESPN, ABC Sports and the Internet as a whole as three talking heads and a production truck tried to ruin my good time. I don’t know if they read it. Actually, I don’t care. ESPN has just gotten so damn big that I am the skull that the Skynet machines run over and turn to dust on a daily basis. But hey, at least it makes me feel better.

I'm confused. I thought Tyson Chandler was taller...and less female?

To the Poynter Review Project (via ESPN.com)

Unfortunately, my complaint and observations may seem biased due to my geographical location. However, I would like to disclaim any sort of presuppositions with a bit of background as you did with your Poyinter Review Project mini-biography. And I have had a couple of days to think about it.

As a lifelong Spurs fan, I have enjoyed a good streak of fandom from 1987 (when David Robinson was drafted), to the new awareness of playoff basketball, to a renaissance in 1997 (when Tim Duncan was drafted), to the championship runs in starting in 1999 and, most recently, in 2007. With that, I have watched hours of NBA coverage with all the networks. When ABC took over the Finals telecasts in 2002, ABC and ESPN brought a superior production value covering my beloved Spurs three times as they would reach their championship goal. The Finals series matchup between the two conference champs were the focus with ABC/ESPN coverage as the athletes and team personalities were featured in a secondary light. The game on the court was the most important storyline with the professionals broadcasting the game.

Due to previous commitments made with ESPN in the previous free agent season, this year’s Finals coverage made an erroneous left turn into a brick wall.

I guess ESPN/ABC sports had to continue the failed path of “The Decision” all the way to the end. It was obviously good television as the ratings windfall for Mavs/Heat hit highs not reached since 2002. People did want to see LeBron James, in whatever capacity “The King” would display his South Beach talents—to fail or succeed. However, your broadcast team completely forgot 1) there was another 12 players in away jerseys defending against the Heat and 2) there were four other Heat players on the court handling the ball.

The broadcast team of Mike Breen, Jeff Van Gundy and Mark Jackson were incorrigible in their blatant disregard and non-attempt of objectivity with their play-by-play and commentary throughout games 1-5 of the NBA Finals with a complicit production team. It’s as if the other team (the champion Dallas Mavericks) was transparent in their eyes of LeBronVision. In Game 6, the booth and the production truck started to turn a corner as the momentum was too difficult to ignore, but only marginally as they both continued to focus on replayed missed jumpers and hot-potato passes by James. Never have I watched such a broadcast where the primary objective was to follow James on his solitary quest from the May 2010 announcement to the coronation of the King ESPN always wanted to crown.

It would take a massive amount of naiveté and blind faith in objective broadcast journalism to think ESPN/ABC would not be tainted by “The Decision”. The fingerprints were everywhere as SportsCenter devoted 35 minutes on an inadvertent shoulder bump from James to coach Erik Spolestra—in December. I should be giving credit instead of rendering shame for the stick-to-itiveness of the story, which is one man in a team sport with 30 other teams vying for the same goal. However, this strikes a negative cord in one of the primary tenets of journalism: do not make the byline writer the story. Every nudge toward James smacked of the spin being performed, either purposefully within production or unconsciously with editorial. But again, naïve thoughts like this do not compose the national collective of broadcast journalism.

I also understand the broadcast team has to give the fans what they want. However, the execution was completely off target that is ruined the actual play on the court. Finals MVP Dirk Nowitzki would shoot a 15-footer in the second period of Game 2 with the broadcast collective continuing their discussion of how great James has been on defense. If the viewing is disconnected from the broadcast, that is a failure of the broadcast. Sure, fans listen to sports pundits such as Charles Barkley, but that sort of braggadocio is better reserved for the halftime, post-game or pre-game show. Van Gundy and Jackson (and unfortunately in certain points, Breen) have that flare for confliction and aggravation. Again, this is what our current sports broadcasting construct consists of. But it was as if the other team (the Mavs) was an absolute afterthought. By halftime of Game 3, I had the play-by-play on mute opting for the Mike Tirico and Hubie Brown radio broadcast.

Is there a “fix” for this? Partially, Mark Jackson is departing for the Golden State Warriors. But that is only a personification of the bigger problem. The following season will allow for incomplete story lines striving for closure. SportsCenter will once again follow training camp of the Heat and all 82 games will have the microscope set to 100x. The only “wish” I have for the next time the Finals roll around is that there is a certain amount of cognizance when broadcasting the next two teams, as opposed to the solitary chess piece that should be the sum of their parts.

Thank you for allowing this platform of critical analysis of the ESPN/ABC Sports product. This is a great evolution of understanding sports fans have evolved from the weekend watchers to the sharper eyes and ears that need to be heard to continue to (try to) enjoy the every-expanding ESPN product. Who knows, this Finals broadcast could be a successful spinoff to the ESPN original series featuring James and his exploits.

So...for what it's worth...

Lessons Learned, my three things.
1) Hey, Houston Rockets fans...calm down. You have two, the Spurs have four. Can't the Mavs have this one? One? Good gravy.
2) There should be something about planning a parade BEFORE the champ is crowned.
3) No, I have not been converted, thank you for asking.

Thursday's the parade. It's in the neighborhood, so why not? Kinda cool. Then to a wedding, in Houston. I will review the coolness of that next post. Talk later.

Thank God, it's baseball season

Roman is ready. I am ready. Red is ready to taste orange Gatorade for the first time. (from Aug 2010)

I'll admit. I was not and never have been a part of the Communist party. I have also never been a life-long, gung-ho baseball fan.

As most brainwashing--err--fandom starts, it starts young. My youth was introduced to baseball as many 6-10 year-olds trot onto a little league field. But my distaste started when I was positioned in right field. Now, if you are playing any outfield position on the 5-6 year-old team, that basically means you have zero hand-eye coordination to prevent a baseball from hitting you in the face. If there was a baseball card for my stats, it would include zero errors (due to zero balls driven past the infield dirt) and a few HBP from other dads (during coach-pitch ball). I better served the team and the league pulling weeds from the outfield. Hey, keeping up those fields was a team effort.

I stuck it out for two years, if you can call it that. It's wasn't my finest hour quitting "the great game". But it just wasn't my bag. I was going to take my talents to PE and score a Presidential Physical Education award by being a prepubescent gym rat (amazing that it's still around today). Two days a week of dodge ball, two days a week of some goofy volleyball hybrid that wasn't volleyball and one mean game of wall ball a week with pull-ups, push-ups and wind sprints in between. So, I was essentially giving an underdeveloped middle finger to baseball.

So, aside from stealing glances at my older brother's and younger brother's baseball card collection, I had a limited engagement with baseball aside from the annual "hey, you wanna go to an Astros game?" conundrum. Pre-strike, it wasn't so bad when they played at the Astrodome. But later, well after the strike, it was a beating to drive to "downtown" Houston to watch lethargic NL Central baseball. Also, they play in a venue with the dimensions of a little league field, with a "berm" in center field. Ha! Enron Field.

So, to recap, the high school and college time frame was nearly absent of any baseball conscientiousness. Which is sad.

Then, I roll up into Dallas. If there is one thing Dallas is starved for is a champion in the 00's. The town was spoiled in the early nineties with the Cowboys as all of the teams got better and better. The Stars won the friggin' Cup in '99 while half the fans didn't know what a blue line was. Hell, even the Mavericks showed up as a NBA team of reckoning. Then there were the Rangers...the lowly, lowly Rangers.

They are still paying ARod (he was still a financial consideration during the sale of the Rangers in 2010). They had a dysfunctional series of owners and team management that somehow looked better after they ruined a baseball team. It was literally an ugly stepchild that was stowed away in the back upstairs bedroom when dinner guests arrived. During the Hicks stewardship, there were Dallasites disowning the Rangers like a daughter marrying the wrong guy.

But then something happened...to me and to the fine folks of North Texas (and likewise the remote Ranger fans that have been long suffering). The Rangers started winning. Within all of the turmoil of the team sale and the skeletons in the closet coming out, the Rangers were playing solid baseball under the radar. Their June and July of the 2010 season was so torrid, they locked up the division as early as in previous years they were eliminated from any playoff contention. The DFW area was talking about significant baseball in August as opposed to following the circus of Cowboy training camp. It was a complete mental shift that no one was prepared for but was totally prepared for.

And I was sucked in. I was caught in the vacuum of awesomeness that reignited the reason why I wanted to play little league baseball in the first place...because baseball is exactly what you need when you need it.

I wanted to be part of a new town. I needed a common thread. A baseball team that had absolutely nothing to lose brought a town and a region together every damn day they took the field. Downtown was a hub with the traveling fans and the hometown revelry that brought everyone together, including me. I fell in love with the story. It was a rag-tag bunch with a survivor of addiction, a statesman of the game, a kid primed for greatness and a traveler that showed up at the right time. They were all meshed with a modern-day zen master that isn't the perfect zen master, but a zen master of the passion that found him.

C'mon, at that point, who wouldn't fall in love.

So, the Rangers are back. The configuration and the love affair might be different and matured, but it's still there. And just like I needed it to facilitate the geo-social identity, I need it again today. My mind is everywhere. This has been one hell of a month and a more-intense past two weeks. Sometimes you need to see how an inning is built or falls apart to get away from things that are falling and constructing in your life. Sometimes watching the challenge of pitcher and batter puts your challenges in perspective. Sometimes you need a break. And as much complaining there is of the 162-game schedule, for my mental and physical health, I am certainly glad it is there. To boot, it's another cool thing Dad and I can talk about. So, the love affair is back. And it doesn't matter about balls and strikes, it's about the escape that is sometimes desperately needed.

So, go Rangers. Yay, baseball. And Yankees suck. Welcome back, past time.

Lessons Learned, my three things.
1) So, that's how it happened, huh? Okay, then.
2) That's a pretty creative name, Longhorn Network. Did you think of it 15 seconds ago?
3) If you don't know how to convert your time zone from GMT, "I bid you no points and may God have mercy on your soul".

So, now that one fixture has been re-established, there seems to be a new-coming fixture that is close to installation. More on that next week. Until then, talk later.

The Big XII: 1996-2011

Welp, I guess we can put that next to the Southwest Conference trophies...

I have to chime in. There is so much circulating with this story and so much to say. With twelve internal moving parts and four big external moving parts...mostly dealing with football, television and levels of money that would make The Donald blush.

But hey, it's not like we weren't heading to this. The writing has been on the wall since The Big Ten Network came into fruition. Hell, with the formation of the Super Alliance and the BCS, it was going to be a money grab featuring the have's and have-not's. The current financial system could not and would not be sustainable. Once a foot goes one step down the slippery slope, the effects were bound to happen.

So, since the "expert" line, such as Jesse Palmer(?), Craig James (maybe a Tech expert - ha!) and Dan O'Malley(???) is chirping like somebody pulled its voice string, why not I add a little rolled-up newspaper on this wildfire. Here is the list of my favorite players...so far:

Hero of the story - Chip Brown, OrangeBloods.com: Who knew that a former beat reporter from the Dallas Morning News would be the hot knife through the cold stick of butter that was supposed to be a boring conference summer meeting. Yeah, notsomuch. This gentleman is crushing it. He is pouncing on the real stories, staying focused on the actual storyline and staying on top of the static. I think he just about scooped everyone. Much apologies to my beloved Austin American-Stateman writers and the know-it-all in New York, but Mr. Brown is in the muck every minute and is bugged by ESPN for fifteen minutes of his valuable time.

Goat of the story - Dan Beebe, Commissioner, Big XII: I'm not sure if he has queued the band while the ship is taking on water, but the cardboard statements aren't bailing the Big XII out. I lost all confidence as soon as I knew his name. How did I know his name? After the UT/OU/Tech tiebreak debacle. The problem with having a young conference is when a once-in-a-generation situation occurs, there is apparently no need to change the screwy rules borrowed from a broken system. If all you know how to do is shake hands with the championship game winning coach and not be a CEO for a multimillion dollar enterprise, then maybe you should go away. By the way, the ultimatum was a really, really, really bad move for a starving, cornered animal.

Harbinger of the story - Big Red: Rewind to last week, the Big XII (in an awesome leadership move reminiscent of any empty threat seen on a sitcom) told Nebraska to make a decision--stay or go. Nebraska did not take the comedic bait. Besides, we already mentioned the Big XII leadership always gets two for flinching. Okay, Nebraska says, we will start looking around if you are giving us a "deadline"...wink, wink. The North and South divisions have always had a dissonance geographically and competitively. So, why not? It was crazy enough to work when we took the Big 8 down south. Experiment failed, so let's try something else. No big deal, so, here you go Big XII, we are out and taking the state with us...wait, Colorado beat us to the exit?

Darling of the story - The University of Texas: This is the most quiet I have ever seen this sports giant. Granted, being the richest athletic department in the nation takes all volumes and all tones. But with the (presumably grinning) silence from the juggernaut in Austin, they are looking like the "awe-shucks" good guy in this cast of characters. Granted, having the biggest stick, financially, has it's advantages. But no matter the outcome, these guys are smelling like January 5, 2006...like roses. The Big XII fails, "Hey, we tried. So, we are going to make the best of a sticky situation." The Big XII is restored to 12 teams, "I'm glad we can stay as a cornerstone member of the Big XII." The Big XI (eleven)? I don't see that happening; it would look too much like the AL West (Rangers joke, Hi-oh!). Texas, with the silence, is seriously the "hot chick at the end of the bar."

FTW guy of the story - A&M: "I don't know about you guys ("you guys" meaning=Texas, OU, Tech, OSU), but I'm going to the SEC!" Uh, no. That makes no sense any way you slice it. Logistically, it would be a pain to travel to Auburn, Oxford and Tuscaloosa with a athletic department hemorrhaging money from all of their athletic venue expansion efforts. Competitively, right now, as strong as the SEC is-up and down-they would be lucky to squeak away with two wins within the West division! Academically, the only other power conference with less academic hurdles to jump than the Big XII...you guessed it, the SEC. Fine, ATM, you think you are a special little snowflake that is unique in every single way, go to the SEC. Enjoy the TV money because you are sure as hell not getting any bowl money (unless there is revenue sharing).

Poor bastard of the story - (tie) Baylor/Mizzou: I'm not sure which is worse...pouting while taking your ball home or tattle-telling to your dad that you were wronged. That would be the situation for the Tigers and Bears...oh, my (wow, that was low-hanging fruit). The first childish response came from Mizzou after the Big XII "ultimatum". Since they are on an island with no in-state buddies, their silence and stiff upper lip (added with new reports of whining) make the school in Columbia look like malcontents, completely unlike Texas. Not really sure how they got that wrap but that seems to be the perception within this whirlwind of activity. Baylor went the other route, telling their parents (Texas Legislature?) that if they aren't tethered with the rest of the Texas schools for any sort of conference movement, they are going to have a parent conference...with the conference in question. Wait...isn't Baylor a private institution? I don't know how state education money breaks down with non-land-grant schools, but isn't Baylor asking Austin for help tantamount to me asking for money from my brother's father-in-law? It doesn't make sense. Neither does the "combo-pack" including Mizzou and/or Baylor...there's not enough TV's in Waco or Columbia.

Non-story of the story - "What about the travel? What about the student athletes?": Yet another example of college football is a business...mind you, a quickly-expanding, dynamic business with a modular business model. But it is a business. Every year, schedules and travel plans are made in accommodation for intercollegiate competition. This has happened since the NCAA was formed. Why would it be any different with boatloads of money now included? Athletic Directors and departments will continue to do the business they have done since athletic departments were created. With the TV money and conference inclusion windfall, the revenue assists with flexibility. Now the Griswold's can go to WallyWorld every summer...and book flights instead of driving the superwagon into the ground. A little bit more capital never has hurt business.

Preachy BS of the story - "It's all about the money!": C'mon, really? If anyone goes with that high-and-mighty garbage, especially at the "Worldwide Leader", that is the most hypocritical complaint anyone can yield. ESPN wouldn't be in existence if it wasn't about the all-mighty dollar. All of the talking heads that we can't stand (in and out of this story) would not be in front of the camera if they did not get a raise or were thrown a bag of cash with a dollar sign on it. So enough with the "it's all about the cash" with some faux forlorn tone. It costs money to run any business. And the business of college football, with TV expansion and conference contraction, is no different.

Accidental story some have mentioned with this story - Playoffs?!?!?: One less conference to worry about...money shifting to super-conferences...probably less of a drumbeat from ACC and Big East. Hmmm, compelling. Besides, if you throw away the "travel" limitation for the super-conferences, the ad revenue has to go somewhere. Jean-Jacques Taylor stated on The Ticket 1310 with Norm Hitzges that with this consolidation, that might be the way to go. But, with the rabbit-like multiplication of the bowl games...again, that ad revenue has to go somewhere.

The story continues to develop. Tweetdeck continues to break down with all Texas sports followers pushing through the cluttered bandwidth. I would personally like to thank all the information holders sharing their data with peons writing blogs like me so I can vent the wonderful yet bittersweet opinions (e.g. sportswriters, sports radio, news agencies, wizards, etc.).

Lessons Learned, my three things.
1) Holy smokes, the NCAA does have teeth. Though it takes five years for them to grow.
2) Twitter should really look into getting some more support. Stupid fail whale.
3) I have never, and will never, care about Notre Dame. If ND still wants to be an independent and continue to collect checks from The Peacock, I don't care. Notre Dame is about as niche as open-wheel racing. I don't care about Danica Patrick.

I have to say, this is about as close to the hot-stove period of baseball that I will every experience. Usually, the common college football fan finishes in early January and starts counting down until the first weekend of September. Now I understand that feeling...where is the player going to go...forget that, where is the team going to go? Talk later.

The Prodigal Son Returns...then leaves again

This photo did not make the cut for People of Wal-Mart.

It was inevitable.

I had to go back. There was no two ways about it. I had to return to Corpus. I had to return for probably the best social and athletic event that scary town hosts. I say scary because I did NOT want to fall into the trap of calling it "home". It's not home. I logged many-a-year in the township with the Latin name. I was NOT coming home...I was visiting Corpus. I'm sorry, that's just the lexicon I am using and comfortable in using. So, there.

Beach to Bay is the biggest athletic event the city hosts aside from a random area or regional state playoff game. It's been going on for 35 years and the participation makes this a destination event (even though it's mostly locals that take part). So, I wasn't going to make my triumphant return to the Sparkling(?) City By the Sea some loungefest of drinking and gallivanting (though I did fit that in).

With six months away from Corpitos, I did have my usual eye-rolling moments when walking back into the scene of the crime, so I am not going to bore everyone (my three readers) into the individual episodes and vignettes of humanity's backhand. Instead, I am going to go the SportsCenter route and just hit the highlights. I will go two low, three high so we can keep this love-fest positive.

Hate number one - I have bantered about this before to anyone that has bemused me with attention, but it kills me every time. I know Corpus is home to the 130th media market (takes a one-point improvement from last I checked), but one would think a market sandwiched between Columbus, GA and Chico, CA would try a little harder.
The once-proud Corpus Christi Caller-Times has not only minimized their content, but they have printed a smaller paper. In comparison with the mighty Dallas Morning News, they have cut an inch from the horizontal margin and two inches from the vertical margin. So, their cost-saving move is not to advertise more but to limit the actual news print with the inches of paper. Hope that maneuver has saved some jobs, but it has definitely compromised content or the potential thereof.
Then, to turn on the radio is even more nightmarish. Yes, yes, bitching about the Clear Channel virtual hijacking of the airwaves of Texas is like complaining that TGI Friday's is too campy. I know, I know, it's a dime-a-dozen argument that doesn't attack a bigger problem. But good lord, this is some terrible radio. Their excuse for a rock station is the play list of a strip club in the 80's. The only saving grace is Monty Montana, and you know he has be be on suicide watch every other day leaving that musical wasteland. I mean, they have a segment called "Hair Cuts". It should be named, "other hair bands we don't play all the time because our boss got mad at us". And when did ESPN radio take over three FM frequencies? Do the good people of Corpus need three different wavelengths to hear the Astros absolutely suck this season?
Then there is the television media. I know everyone has to start somewhere, but the production value combined with terrified talent makes you long for public access...no, no not the Alex Jones polished public access...the bad one. The limited coverage of the biggest sports event the city has speaks for itself. There were over 14,000 runners showing up to run one race. You would think that an economic shot in the arm to a depressed South Texas town that begs for this kind of action would use a bit more than a 30 second segment to explain how awesome it is to have 14,ooo+ people in one place doing one thing. Oh, sorry, they all weren't running from the cops, so that's not interesting enough for the bleeds-leads axiom these small minded news organizations can handle.
Yeah, I know what to expect. But I am still surprised.
Then again, no media market is perfect...I mean no market.

Hate number two - If there is one thing this city can benefit from, it's inter-organization planning committee. What do I mean? Simply put, this city can't plan for shit. Corpus is large-ish in the relative sense (286,000 at 2008) but small enough to know when the biggest running event will be conflicting with anything else--for example, graduation ceremonies Texas A&M-Corpus Christi. They were graduating their biggest class ever, just shy of 900 students. Now, I'm no cotillion mother, but wouldn't scheduling two large garden parties on the same day (separated by mere hours) be a bit of a faux-pax? Why have the biggest two spring events on the same weekend? Why even try to handle the lodging and entertainment nightmare when you can get two economic boosts instead of one windfall saturated with drunken co-eds and drunken runners? You don't have to act like your bigger brothers to the north. You can prevent these sorts of collisions. A little bit of foresight never killed anyone.

Love number one - Beach to Bay is a fun race. Granted, this year had it's share of obstacles, but it is still a fun track with great concept and an excellent finish line. You will never see so many teams with the word "beer" on the listing because of the good times had by the finishers once they are done. It also helps that this race is done outside the Texas marathon schedule so rookies and veterans can return with the same dumb smile on their face. It also doesn't hurt that the run is on the Texas coast either.

Love number two - This is a relative argument because I have some more analysis to perform, but if someone wants to walk away from a bar with a reasonable tab without having to perform any favors, then Corpus is the drinking hole for you. Granted, the huge qualifier is that the selection in most drinking establishments is limited, but for what these bars (no pubs) have is some cheap drinin'. And that is not all a bad thing because you are nursing some sore muscles (if you are running hard enough).

Love number three - Let's face it, I wouldn't bother with the planning, training, anticipation or execution if it weren't for the people.

Lessons Learned, my three things.
1) Don Weber is the smartest MFer I know. Why, you ask? Well, he reminded me of a very, VERY important fact: beer and pizza are both carbs. So, if I carb up for my next race all I have to do is grab a six-pack from downstairs and order Domino's. Party on, Don C. Weber. I will go forth and do good things!
2) When you are at a sushi restaurant, always assume that a saketini is a large beverage and not a shot. Also, if you order saketinis for the table, go ahead and open up that wallet because you, my friend, are buying.
3) Whenever you have a very good run, you always want to follow it up with another run. The endorphins are ridiculous. So, yeah, we have a running schedule now.
BONUS: I didn't know Corpus was also on "The Cleveland Show". Wow. I miss one episode while out of town and this is what I miss (Ep 21, 17:10 mark).

I would like to thank all the friends and family that put up with my North Texas smugness enough to have a meal or a drink or a slap in the face. I appreciate it. The whole six months have been a whirlwind combined with a cold shower. I loved getting grounded once more to recharge the soul, psyche and overall demeanor of my current self. I cannot thank all the involved folks enough and do not have the bandwidth so show my love and affection for all of you. It definitely is not a trip...to Corpus...without you. Talk later.

The NFL Draft and other complete wastes of time and efforts.

Colt is getting some looks from some teams...hopefully not from this angle.

Oh, the draft...how a humble phone call from an owner and a commissioner of a pro sports enterprise has completely and unequivocally exploded into it's own monstrosity. Three full days of this stuff. Sometimes I ask how something so trivial in the past now gets the super-special treatment. Then I answer my own question...

It's merely a reflection of the cultural shift. It happened in Rome so it might as well happen within the American Empire. Start with the colony, build militarily, defend swiftly, have some internal conflict, grow from said conflict, have industry bloom, have technology flourish, brag about your roads and frontier territories, have a couple more nationalistic wars and then you have professional sports. That's how Rome got their coliseum and that's how we got professional sports (with coliseums in every major metropolitan area, not counting Foxbrough).

But football fans, both college and pro, enjoy this silly exercise. It's crazy that even the most casual of fans go back and forth with arguments, pontifications and soothsaying with athletes that beat up on the 107th defense for three to four years. Now it gets more ridiculous at Radio City Music Hall.

My quick hits (Ha! I am so pun-ny!):

• It starts with the Super Bowl and now it continues with the Draft. What the hell is up with the red carpet garbage? It's the draft, not Plush. It's bad enough these players haven't made a football dime and they have a suit ensemble more expensive than my truck.
• Three months ago, the 1-2 was Suh and G. McCoy. Now it's a broken quarterback that couldn't finish the Texas/OU game because he doesn't know how NOT to land on his throwing shoulder. Obviously, Bradford has never wrestled with his dad in the living room. Got to learn how to fall or Sam will be a bust.
• Why don't teams go for their most important need as opposed to try to fit in the best available? That never makes sense to me. Why am I going to by a Mercedes when I don't have a roof over my head? Why buy the steak if I can't afford ramen noodles.
• There is a reason why the first teams in the draft are where they are. Bad offensive line and bad front seven. One draft pick is not going to do it. I'm starting to buy the whole Colin Cowherd Top-down approach for sport franchise success. If your management stinks, there is no hope, no matter how many draft picks you have.
• Just to be honest, if I was any of these talented athletes, I would be a little bummed if I was shipped to Detroit, Cleveland, Oakland or Buffalo. C'mon, I don't want to play football in a football wasteland. It's difficult for me to filter out the bullshit from the genuine sentiment. At least the Oakland weather isn't THAT miserable.
• It's a damn shame that we can't have Todd McShay versus Mel Kiper all year long. I know it's not meant to be hilarious, but it is.
• Yeah, sure, I like to keep track of the Longhorns. But then it I get distracted and pay attention to the Cowboys and Patriots all over again. Thus, my attention span is torpedoed. So much easier to focus just on college football than to bounce around nine-eleven teams in the league.

This is seriously the most useless exercise in the creation of Western civilization. All of these predictions and wild guesses mean absolutely nothing. These men haven't played a down. Yet there is so much stock and time burned with analysis that may or may not translate. We don't do with with the NBA (unless we are paying attention to the Draft Lottery...embedded hilarity). We don't do this with baseball (because we have a hard enough time keeping up with 378 games...or something like that). We definitely don't do this with hockey (some 17 year-old Canadian went somewhere...okay). Who knows if any of these men will work out, especially with millions of dollars and on the good side of their twenties.

Lessons Learned, my three things.
1) Seriously, this night shift is really messing with me. I have had the worst running times in my life with strange sleeping and eating patterns. I would be lucky to go sub 9/mile.
2) I can waste my money of plenty of things, but it will not be a 3D HDTV.
3) Beer in growlers are only good for 48 hours. I wish they would have told me that at NXNW a month ago.

Okay, I need to waste more time tweeting about the 239th pick. Talk later.

Sadly, I've become That Guy

Yeah, just leave me outside from here on out.

After two-plus weeks of processing the Citi National Championship Game, I have come to the conclusion that I can't "enjoy" a UT football game in public. No ifs, ands or buts about it. I cannot be out in public for the Longhorns anymore.

Back in 27°44′34″N 97°24′7″W, I would watch it with a bunch of hooligans that took over a venue for every kickoff. It's a conditioned response when viewing with unabated screams and trash talk for three years. So, when I view the same barbaric game in mixed company (fueled by Shiner Bock), it's a little different.

I wasn't very proud of myself, yelling at a television screen, spatting at the image of Nick Saban, and generally making people uncomfortable...more uncomfortable than Colt McCoy's shoulder. I backslid, but the slide was just my previous behavior, if that is an excuse.

In the spirit of getting yelled at by Colin Cowherd, I have turned into That Guy. This version of That Guy would be Guy-Not-To-Invite-To-Sporting-Events. I'm not special. I do not get secret privilege to lose my cool and change someone's good time to an irritating memory. I need to be a grown-up, not a slobbering frat boy. Besides, it's just football. I have no stake in the team (unless you count the tuition I am still paying from loans). So, I don't need to behave like an angry stakeholder.

Don't get me wrong, there's nothing wrong with being passionate. But even passion has it's limits. The limit, of course, would be psychosis.

As I have defrosted, I'm waiting to see where Earl Thomas and Jordan Shipley land in the draft. And I will be electing to just stay at home for the 2010 (pronounced twenty-ten). And just like the 19 seniors on the team, I will be graduating from the public to private yelling at my own television, because I can creep myself out much better than scaring the straights.

Lessons Learned, my three things.
1) I have turned The Lovely into a foodie. No, not that kind of foodie, the clean kind. With Charlie Palmer and Craft Dallas (with Local coming on Valentine's Day), I'm ashamed to even walk near the kitchen.
2) Everyone, we have this year's favorite acronym for the year, and we are only three weeks in: APT - Advanced Persistent Threat.
3) Happy Anniversary, The Lovely. Year Two doesn't sound as good as Year One, but I am positive is will be more fun.

I promise, this is not a sports blog. But, as far as the Longhorns and my house arrest, we are on a 223-day break. So, I will enjoy it. Gawd, why can't we just have a playoff? Talk later.

Please Shut Up...Please

If not for me...do it for the kids (Hoot 'n' Hollar '08 with Jordy Cartier).

As we have mentioned before, this is not a sports blog. That field and category is so saturated from Deadspin to Brooks on Sports to I've Got Big Balls and I Know How To Use Them that I don't need to go into that tangent...plus, I don't have the time or the effort to interview coaches set to infinite repeat on their pressers to quadruple-checking stats and figures. But, here we are again at the middle of the college football season and I am turning sour like a college student's refrigerator.

But my disdain is not sourced from my team of choice, my beloved Longhorns. The University of Texas football club is making another undefeated run similar to 2005, which started the premature demise of Vince Young. The team, players and coaches are taking care of business, even with personnel shuffling and a simple philosophy of maintaining their fate in their own hands. To quote the venerable Mack Brown, "We are in the same position that we were last year. We controlled our own destiny last year being number one in the country after this game. And we let one second take it away from us and put it back in the system." Obviously, the team is saying the right things. Without nitpicking every single play from scrimmage, the team is responding to the words being said.

No, my anger and frustration is coming from the "system". But the "system" is far more outstretched than the idling computers computing the Bowl Championship Series formulas and analytics. The "system" includes the soothsayers and provocateurs that spew verbal vomit every Thursday through Saturday.

It's a dysfunctional relationship. As a college football fan, you wake up, take the dogs down, fire up the HD set and watch "the premier college football pregame show". As far as fans are concerned, it's the only pregame show. Hell, Big 12 Live on FSN has the production value of public access compared to the massive roadshow that is Gameday. Gameday is like your ex-girlfriend. She's pretty and fun and you learn something from her. Then, later on, she starts yelling at you, throwing dishes at your head, drinks too much and insults your mother, flirts with other dudes, then disrupts your whole system of beliefs. You love her, but she is emotionally draining, no matter how much fun she is.

Add the dysfunction with a completely subjective polling with the Associated Press, the Coaches' Poll and the Harris Poll. The AP poll lost it's teeth when removed from the BCS computer formulas. However, for some strange reason, I trust the AP because of the depth and diversity of the voter. The Coaches' is always skewed with axes to grind and conferences to bolster. The Harris is the biggest wild card because the "administrators" that have a vote could have no idea what a football looks like.

The straw that breaks the camels back is the Heisman discussion. For an award that is given before the bowl season, it takes up too much time and effort for journalists, broadcasters, analysis, scouts and random experts for something completely subjective that lately never translates professionally [see: Wuerffel, Danny]. Add the skew of former winners having a vote, and you have a discussion not only disruptive to the action week by week, you take away the team element to the ultimate team sport.

So, every weekend this season, these three annoying factors ruin a currently undefeated season from my favorite team. It started early with the Tebow-Bradford-McCoy constant interrelation of action. If Tebow is making out with a co-ed he doesn't love, the "system" wonders if Bradford and McCoy is doing the same thing (the last statement was a joke...we all know all three potential millionaires are performing mission work in third-world counties, simultaneously). The hype, even before the first snap, was getting to a dangerous level. The week one catastrophe of Bradford's injury turned the tailspin of hype into a monster of unnecessary, repetitive press into more hypothetical non-news of the future demise of Tebow and/or McCoy. Then Tebow went down...hard. The Heisman chatter was at a ridiculous level bringing in non-factors, one-gamers and dark horses...three full months before players are INVITED to the award.

Then there is constant drumbeat of "the SEC is the most awesome-est conference in the galaxy" that smart people always default. When will the "system" learn a) quit being lazy and watch a Mountain West or a Big East game once in a while and b) the teams in this conference always cannibalize each other. If it's not a scare like Alabama v. The Fightin' Lane Kiffins, it will turn somewhere else (...wait for it...). In 2007, LSU loses to a ranked Kentucky team and an unranked Arkansas team. They were rewarded with a National Championship bid where they beat Ohio State for their second crystal football in four years. They lost two games and still got the nod. Tandem that with the fact that the flip-flop number one team this year in Alabama was embarrassed in it's last big game that was outside the SEC. Every year, the loudest of the microphones fall back on this exhausted premise.

So, with the press fueling the "system", I can't enjoy a smashing win from the Longhorns against a Big XII North team like Mizzou, in their house, during their homecoming. Every time I hear Kirk Herbstreit on a monologue of how "tough" Alabama is in escaping Knoxville and how ugly UT is in taking care of business in Columbia, I want to punch him in his beautiful face. The "system" protects Tim Tebow and the Florida Gators with multiple number one votes and Heisman contention while chastising Colt McCoy and the Texas Longhorns with limited votes and disappointing qualifiers and mitigation. Garbage.

And why the hell is USC always receiving undying affection from the "system"? With foolish predictions like this, it makes watching and reading and following college football unbearable.

My ways to fix the "system":

• The Heisman should be awarded after the bowls. As a matter of fact, all the individual honors should be given after the triple-zeros are on the scoreboard. The only argument is the closing argument. If the Heisman is loosely representative as a team and individual award, then assess the whole body of work, not just twelve-thirteenths of the composite.
• Don't publicize the polls, especially the BCS. If you are going to incite rage, do it once. The natural discussion of comparison of teams will be there. There is no reason to put such stress on a flawed, subjective polling system when all that matters is the endgame. Make it like college basketball where no one knows if you are dancing until the selection show (hosted by Lee Corso and Lou Holtz...hilarious).
• Include everyone in the BCS. No more "BCS Busters". If you are a big school and a viable competitor for a conference championship, there is no reason for exclusion. Again, naturally, college football fans and media will generate discussion for your Boise States, TCUs and Utahs as potential champions. But the subjective, cherry picking, you are in/you are out choices hold the same credibility as the judging system for "Project Runway".
• In relation to exclusion, no more independent teams. That's right Notre Dame. Go to the Big Ten (with twelve teams). NBC can modify their contract to include the Big Ten Network. Army and Navy can make an Air Force Academy move and find a natural home in the Big East.

Of course, this is all contingent on the absence of a college football playoff (which I am convinced will never happen).

Maybe with those fixes, I can enjoy an undefeated season (potentially) in peace. These fixes are designed to remove the talk and chatter and asinine comments from the press (the prime mover of the "system"). Why talk about subjective issues when you can't see them? And that's all I want to do on a Saturday afternoon - watch some football of the alma mater, talk some trash about OU and pass out with the knowledge that some idiot in Bristol won't influence some mouthbreather in Atlanta to kick out the Longhorn from an undefeated campaign to a bid to Tempe...for another Tortilla Chip Bowl. Is that too much to ask?

Lessons Learned, my three things.
1) Patience is a learned virtue.
2) If morale and confusion rule the day, then products and production suffers.
3) You can burn out a router. Seriously, it can just cook itself and burn out. I did not know that.

Well, I think I have taken care of the football post for the year. Too bad I have to suffer with Brent Musburger reminding us every week that Colt McCoy and Jordan Shipley are roommates. Maybe we can exclude random factoids during game telecasts? A man can dream, can't he? Talk later.

Yes, last week was busy, thank you for inquiring

Coffee, Energy Drinks and Insomnia is no way to go through a week.

From the Outlook calendar on my office workstation:
March 16-20, CDI SENTENEL Incident Response and Handling (Austin)
Conflicts with another appointment with your Calendar
March 19 and 21, First/Second NCAA Men's Tournament (Greensboro)
Conflicts with another appointment with your Calendar
March 13-22, SXSW [South By Southwest] (Austin)
Conflicts with another appointment with your Calendar
March 17, St Patrick's Day
Conflicts with another appointment with your Calendar
March 18 - 10:00, Weekly Team Meeting
Yeah, doubt you are going to make it according to your Calendar

I have to say, this was a pretty insane week as far as slated events were concerned. The top listing was the most beneficial as far as knowledge and profession, but why in the world would anyone schedule an event in Austin at the same time as the second or third event? I was asking myself that question daily while dodging goofy kids wearing flannel and stocking caps in 86-degree heat. The general consensus was: "what do you expect, it was run by the government." Sad days when the "government" gets dumped on for offering free education.

Admittedly, I was not looking forward to the Tournament as a 'Horns fan. When a point guard doesn't emerge until the fourth quarter of the season and the stars of the team have issues of fortitude the whole season, you don't want to pay too much attention. However, when they were Feeling Minnesota in the first round shellacking, hope was there for the showdown versus Duke. But then, like a Dungeons and Dragons gamer on prom night, there is still disappointment. Thankfully, my emotional attachment, according to my Outlook calendar, was partial at best.

SXFSW: I will only add this one note to the well-chronicled insanity that is the all-around sensory overload - when leaving town with good memories, catching up with good friends and family, and with eight loaves of Whole Foods challah, The Lovely and I were working up eastbound on 5th Street approaching Lavaca Street. Nearing the legendary Antone's, I noticed a 1980's body-style white Chevy pickup. The tailgate said in all in bold, black letters: "DON'T MOVE HERE". Ah, the double-edge sword of tourist revenue and population boom. Can't pick and choose anymore, Live Music Capital of the World.

I am sore about St. Patty's, though. Staying up until three in the morning the day before does not count as celebrating. I was worn down from my first two days that I just watched a rerun of the Daily Show and called it a night. For someone one-sixteenth Irish, that is no way to celebrate my partial heritage. There was an absence of thematic hats and green food coloring. I could plug in that I am getting old, but that is an excuse old people use. Funny sidebar though, Emma was born. Big ups to Josh and Amy.

So, I missed the Weekly. Damn.

All in all, it was a productive week. I even had time to recover The Lovely after my coursework to have some Big A fun ("A" as in Austin, you bunch of savages). And we did. I would like to give a fond bon voyage to The Gingerman, known as Gingerman Classic for this week's purposes. My old 4th Street hideout is now relocating to a cold and metal hole down Lavaca Street, about 50 meters from the old location.

I'm not really sure if I am complaining or gloating...

Lessons Learned - My Three Things:
1) No matter what, always ask for the money up front first!
2) If a door knob is functioning, when disassembled, it should separate in all it's different components. When the doorknob, or door-opening system, is malfunctioning, you just might have to stab the door with a screwdriver and needle-nose pliers until the cipher completely dies.
3) Spook Central is a fun place to work. Hell, it's a fun place just to keep track of. With Conflicker C in the wild, ISC breaking down the Green status and jackasses still using P2P, it makes me want to put on the track shoes and run a 7-minute mile to meet the challenge.

Mad love and shouts to Ra-Rach and B-boy for hooking up the couch-surfing provisions, El Grande (sans The Munchkin and Dollface), SKM, Garth the Sherpa (got to tell me about that mountain range), Safari Jon and the cold-blooded killers at the HHS mafia, Don Michael and that dude that called me a "badass" when I was jaywalking Lavaca in a black suit. That is merely a portion of why I love Austin so much. Talk later.

I swear, this is NOT a sports blog...

...but I have to comment on the waning moments of the college football season. College football is the one thing in life that makes me consistently feel young(er) again. It was a mere 11 years ago since I first stepped onto campus in Austin, so the discussion can be gerrymandered toward how I'm getting older and the college athletes stay the same age. So, there. I haven't broken from the blog theme (WARNING: we now join the link party, already in progress).

However, this year has been one for distinct comment of and about my beloved Longhorns. Early in the season, one of my colleagues from the Texas Exes Corpus Christi chapter, Ron Lowe, claimed that the burnt orange and white would either be 12-0 or 6-6. As far as the spring game was concerned, the team looked either very Jekyll or very Hyde. It was a fair enough prediction for a prognosticator such as Mr. Lowe.

Ah, but how the season has played out...it has been one for the books with Colt McCoy breaking school records left and right in front of the guy that claimed the previous records. The Red River Shootout (I know, I know...shootout and cocktail party are not PC, so we must homogenize it with Rivalry and "game formerly known as the cocktail party") came and went with a very entertaining outcome putting the 'Horns at number one (with a big target on it's back) for three consecutive weeks. And with all the victories and all the achievements, eight seconds in the West Texas plains changed it all. Texas Tech was the sweetheart of the Big XII South for about thirteen and a half days when it was realized Mike Leech's group doesn't know how to carry a big game via bus. Not only was that apparent during the OU game, but also this year's edition of the Pick Your Corporate Sponsor Cotton Bowl.

So, what happens? All hell breaks loose, naturally. Even though the 45-35 lobbying during the "Jorvorskie Lane ate my other sign" game, the human polls had the Sooners ahead while the Bowl Championship Series computers had UT up over the bitter rivals. The Sooners won in Stillwater at Bedlam, and everything got reversed. Computers loved OU while the human polls state the case for Texas. So, with Tech barely getting by road powerhouse Baylor, OU and UT winning out, there was a three-way tie for the Big XII South. Since the Big XII never saw this coming and never thought in the twelve and a half years of existence, they created no internal contingency for a fourth-factor tie-breaking rule. So, what do they do? They use the most flammable tool in all of sports to determine who gets to beat the hell out of Missouri. It was like asking a Catholic priest to babysit a young boy (ouch, even that one hurt a little bit...but seriously, "Doubt" is a fantastic movie).

So, now we have Monday night. Ohio State gets their annual pass to make a payday, and the Longhorns prep for a big money bowl for the third time in five years. And we have the BCS to thank for that. Thursday night, the nation, and Longhorn fans begrudgingly, will be forced to watch another OU game. And we have the Big XII and the BCS to thank for that. But, how did we get here? I know it took only one loss in early November for Texas to reroute their travel from Miami to Glendale. But how did we get to the point where President-Elect (hurry up and be president, already) Obama is making the BCS a talking point? I will tell you how...we are a bunch of dirty, dirty capitalists. We should curtailed this garbage about two decades ago.

The last time the Buck-EYES and the Horns hooked up, it got all sorts of crazy.

The bowl system was the loosely associated compilation of games that determined, in no hard and fast way but merely by the a couple of arbitrary polls, which team was the best in the nation. It started with the Rose Bowl and expanded in a regional pattern taking care of the geographically-capable teams they could assign. For example, the Cotton Bowl, back in the day, featured the Southwest Conference (SWC) champion versus either the Southeast Conference (SEC) and/or the modern-day Atlantic Coast Conference (ACC). But, people started to complain. With the human polls and multiple games, the co-champions started popping up. Then the arguments to the co-champions followed. Then the bowl shortcomings were argued. And this was all in an effort to save schools (which, generations ago, had their budgets attached to academic budgets) a big chunk of money.

In 1995, enter the Bowl Alliance. That worked okay, but then you had Pac-10 and Big Ten teams that were actually competitive, and that screwed up efforts as well. It did create co-champions, which brings the same argument before the Alliance about face.

At the same time, you had the corporate sponsor attached to the bowl name, i.e. the "title sponsor" for the game. A decade ago, it was the USF&G Sugar Bowl. It was the Florida Citrus Orange Bowl. It was the Sunkist Fiesta Bowl (lots of citrus lobbyists for the bowls ten years ago). It was the Rose Bowl Game (the Rose Bowl committee was a company within itself, so, they said thanks - but no thanks to the title sponsor).

Now, college sports is it's own cash cow. From Texas Monthly in November, the University of Texas, by itself, has become the archetype for college programs. Now untethered by academics and their shortened budgets, UT is on pace to reach a $126.8 million budget in fiscal 2009. Tandem that with the profitability of the Big XII budget, the huge money-grab that is the BCS title games plus the advertising that goes with it, then you have greedy bastards that now have the money to travel, but would rather protect the financial bottom line to build 100,000 capacity stadiums and new jerseys for the field hockey team.

It's inequity at it's finest. You want better colleges and better academics and better facilities and better faculty. But The University's biggest money maker is in a vaccum. The second highest-paid staffer at UT is Mack Brown. Now, that's what I call priorities. But I digress.

The argument falls short when you a) separate the athletic from academic in forms of budgets, expenses and donations (yeah, the Longhorn Foundation's sole purposes is to make UT the biggest dog in the yard, with generous contributions from viewers like you) and b) preservation of the bowls assist with making the focus on the student-athlete. There has never been a bigger oxymoron in the professionalization of college sports, especially football.

We have done this to ourselves. All Texas fans are complicit in the creation of this monster. Thirteen years ago, UT and the SWC did not have to succumb and dissolve. Granted, a present-day SWC would look like the ACC, but with that one move of resistance, the Alliance would have never been successful and the Rose Bowl wouldn't have a title sponsor that is funneling money from a $800 billion "bailout". If leadership would have been more prophetic (definitely unlike Dan Beebe and the Big XII "tiebreaker" debacle), the playoff system would have been installed with no outside meandering arguments.

We have done this to ourselves. College football ratings, according to ratings amassed from 2007, the average uptick in regular season viewing is up by 4% with the bowls averaging about 9%. If we hate the BCS so much for what it does to the competition level and the end-result, then why keep watching a bad product? I quit watching professional wrestling because it was fake. As Texas fans, if we complain so much about the BCS, why support it?

We have done this to ourselves. On a collateral level, all the sponsors have been soaking up the airtime with translated profits. AT&T has banked ever since it captured the Rose Bowl (as a "presented by" sponsor) and the Cotton Bowl. And let's not forget the Tortilla Chip Bowl all my cohorts will be watching on Monday. Yeah, they aren't hurting either.

I know I am spreading a ton of anarchy here for just a college football season that was one interception away from shutting everyone up (including the computers). It was going to be 12-0 or 6-6. But this is what we paid for. Every time we buy a collegiate-licensed Longhorn shirt, we are part of the capitalist problem, not the efficient solution. Now, we can't quit the BCS cold turkey. In 2005, they did get it right, even though Matt Leinart would disagree. But if there is no action the leadership of the conferences or the schools or the BCS precipitates toward a playoff, we cannot complain. I would love to be Utopian and say that we can achieve a true playoff with a grass-roots movement, but we will still watch the game, watch SportsCenter after the game (because ESPN is totally complicit in this as well) and buy that bag of chips to dip our queso.

UT lost to Tech. OU won out. UT drew Ohio State. OU has a shot at the title. We can lament all we want as 'Horns fans. But can we finally stop complaining and start realizing that the system is broken and nothing can fix it other than common sense? Plus, I don't want to be bothered while the game is on. So pipe down, will you? I will only need four hours, in between six-thirty and ten-thirty. Then we can email Barak Obama with our proposal.

My Three Things:
1) I think I can hold off on any champagne consumption for the next twelve months, right ladies?















2) "Benjamin Button" made me cry. Shut up.
3) There is absolutely nothing wrong with going to a party that is packed with a ton of very strong personalities. It actually makes for a very entertaining time. It helps to know how to hit the Pause button and allow for the conversational left turn to happen.

Merry New Year, everyone. Hook 'em, Horns. Boomer-Sooner-Fuckyou. And again, I assure you, this is not a sports blog. Talk later.