Wasting a shot at perfection

I can't even describe how disappointed I am that the Indianapolis Colts completely wasted the opportunity to complete an undefeated season and enter the record books as the only team to do so in the era of the 16 game season. With Peyton Manning and the starters in the game, the Colts took a 15-10 lead midway through the third quarter in yesterday's game. At that point, head coach Jim Caldwell determined that playing his starters, including the best quarterback in football 20 more minutes was just too risky. So he pulled the starters and the team proceeded to give up 19 unanswered points. The offense was so anemic that it actually cost the Colts points rather than earning them.

I have two main problems with this philosophy. The first is that I feel that the organization owed it to the fans to try for immortality. A perfect season would separate this team from all others that have won the Superbowl. The 1972 dolphins are the only team to win the Superbowl without a loss at any point in the season, and that was when the regular season was only 14 games. I respected the Patriots and Giants immensely two years ago when both teams played their starters the entire game in an otherwise meaningless season finale. It clearly didn't hurt either team, as both met for the Superbowl title 4 weeks later. There are so few times in sports when you have a chance to do something historic, and those opportunities need to be seized.

To me, this is like a pitcher intentionally walking a batter in the 9th inning of a perfect game because he doesn't want to surrender a hit. 250 or so no hitters have been thrown in the history of baseball; there have only been 18 perfect games. If you give up a hit in that situation, you tip your cap and hold you head high knowing that you have done your best and got beat.

Now, I understand the Colts didn't want their star players to get hurt, but if that's the case why did they play them at all? Shouldn't they have benched the starters last week when home field advantage was wrapped up? I don't understand their logic.

The second problem I have is that all along, the colts have presented their decision to rest starters as being based on the following false dichotomy: If they go for an undefeated season, the players would get worn down and they would lose in the playoffs and if they rested their starters during the season's remaining games, they would win the Superbowl. Does this sound ridiculous to anyone else? They already were getting a first round bye in the playoffs. That sounds a lot like rest to me. They are just as likely to lose in the playoffs now as they would have been if they played hard to the end.

Shame on them. I have adopted the Colts a step-team of sorts over the past decade since my team, the 49ers, hasn't been relevant. Despite this, I hope they lose in the playoffs. Sports karma is a powerful thing and I hope it comes back to bite them. You can't absolutely spit in the face of history, not to mention your fan base that wanted perfection, and have no repercussions.

I hope they get what's coming to them.

Even?

Well, as my dear Cynthia just reminded me, I did not post a blog before midnight this past week. I apologize for this, and ask her forgiveness. When Cindy left for Korea, I made her a deal that I would post a blog every week until she comes home next September. Failure to do so would result in me visiting her in Korea. The mistake was not realizing that since I'm home for Christmas break, I needed to post before Sunday, which is the day I usually do my posts.

Yesterday was a great but hectic day. My new niece was blessed in church as well as my dad, sister and brother teaching lessons in different wards, which we all attended. We all then were dinner guests at my brother's in laws and then my grandparents came over to visit and discuss, among other things, their burial plans. Yeah, kind of strange, but it actually turned out to be a very healthy conversation of life, death, and exactly how we remember those we love that have passed away. We had a wonderful visit, and they left our house at midnight. Family 1, blog 0.

Cindy, I propose the following: In the spirit of the Christmas season, I think you should forgive me this one time and give me a 10 hour reprieve for just this week. If it helps, you can consider us even for the two times you've blown me off for our skype and video chat dates. This also means that two blogs will be coming this week. I think this is an acceptable solution and I hope she agrees. Heaven knows I don't want to visit that horrible country, even if she is here. I think it would be much more fun to take a trip together to DC or New York when she gets back. I love you, Cindy, and hope you see fit to dispense mercy upon me in my time of need.

Call it even and go from here?

My Christmas Wish List: Friends and Celebrity Edition

After much thought about what I wanted for Christmas this year, I decided the deepest desire of my heart was to be a part of the season of giving. With that in mind, I bring you the things I would like Santa to bring my friends. (And a few notable famous people as well, just for good measure.)

Cindy Ford- A one-way plane ticket to Utah, so that she can leave the God forsaken country of Korea behind forever. Also the ability to follow through with appointments to chat.

Janna Siler- Nate Archibald in an Armani suit. Now I’m not even gay, but one or two drinks and I might even consider….. Wait, did I really just type that? Moving on.

Aaron Makdo- Great leaping ability, so that he can continue to jump on every bandwagon that comes along in professional sports.

Tiger Woods- A great retroactive prenup. Turns out if Tiger would have just kept the driver in the bag, he would have won more that just a few more majors.

Katie Duncan- An everpresent song lyric teleprompter. Also a giant bong so that she would be irresistable to Michael Phelps.

Kevin Tame- A title for one of his Seattle sports teams. At the very least, Seattle has been passed by Washington DC as the most pathetic sports town in America. That counts for something, right? And while we’re at it, may Howard Shultz, the CEO of Starbucks that sold the Sonics knowing they would be moved to Oklahoma City, fall from a 30 story building onto a bicycle with no seat.

Deanna Roark- To have access to a time warp machine that will let the next year and a half pass by in the blink of an eye, so she can be released from her Teach for America indentured servitude.TFA ruins lives. I also wish she had a plane ticket to Utah.

Jill Crane- The desire to practice law. If that doesn’t work, a rich husband that would make it so she doesn’t have to. And more bowling trophies and intramural championship t-shirts.

Aaron Rodgers and Randy Moss- A vicious beating followed by terrorists forcing them to watch the WNBA on loop for an entire year. You thought I was over the Fantasy Football collapse from last week? Not so much.

Rachel Quada- An endless supply of annoying EFY friends to take up her time and keep her from her much cooler friends. Wait a second. She already has that? Oh. Lets just go with Chuck Bass and an endless supply of diet coke in his G5.

Megan Shirk- Dozens of babies without having to put up with the grossness that is living with a man. Also, a competitive, sports loving guy with endless amounts of witty banter to be bffs with in nyc.

Tony John- Sleep in the upcoming year. Good luck.

Rachel Bodily- More clout at Georgetown, so she can get me into their law school. And a copy of Love Actually.

Tony Capone- An easy final semester of law school followed by a passing score on the bar exam. I also wish him the ability to cope with another Mets collapse in the upcoming season.

Barack Obama- The foresight never to visit Provo, Utah.

Dustin Currie- A vampire bite, so he won’t actually have to turn 30 next year.

Bethanie and Randon Tagg- A baby for Beth so she can quit her job. For Randon, a big screen TV so he can avoid the baby and stay caught up on sports.

Ben Jones- Fashion sense, lipo, and a new car. I’m just kidding. Ben already has a nice car.

Shannon Mehner- A new, red Ralph Lauren puffy coat so she can give me back the one she’s been borrowing for two years. And season tickets to the Cubs.

Collin Cummings- A continuous stream of creative ideas and infinite investment capital to get them going.

Jessica Alba- Me

Blake Griffin (not the famous one)- A tard free job, and a lifetime membership to blockbuster.

Lauren and Aaron Purcell- The desire to have their friends over for dinner more often and an immunity to the freezing bay area weather that they will shortly be faced with.

Logan Holman- Better looking girls in your singles ward. Can’t even make any jokes about that one. I’m praying for you.

Lauren Anderson- An endless supply of trails to bike, races to run, and mountains to climb.

Mark Skinner- That girl’s number from Red Robin a few weeks ago. Wait, maybe I just want that for myself. She was hot. I hope Mark finds a girl almost as hot.

Valerie Funk- A job in SLC and enough free time to listen to three volumes worth of scary stories.

Todd Richardson- A divorce from the horrible wench that is TFA. I’ll be a character witness if you need one in the settlement hearings.

Amy Sue Wilson- A buyer for her winter contract and feet that don’t even get remotely cold.

That's my list. If I missed anyone, better luck next year. Travel safe, and Merry Christmas!

Happy Effing Holidays

Not going to lie to you kids. This was not a great weekend. On Friday I found out that the shoulder surgery I had planned for my right shoulder this coming week might not be as simple as previously thought, and therefore might need to be moved back again. Yesterday, my car, after careful consideration of what to get me for Christmas finally decided on a good old fashioned kick in the balls. Merry Christmas, you get a new water pump and timing belt, all for low, low cost of 350 bucks. Son of a b. This has also left me walking around in the Provo slush for the past two days, leading to me stepping in a giant hidden puddle that went halfway up my leg as well as nearly slipping and falling roughly 7,218 times on my way to and from church today.

While trying to fix my car in the snow and slush, I received a call from my Elder’s Quorum President. He forgot to tell me but it was my week to teach Elder’s Quorum. Just go ahead and prepare a 45 minute lesson of your choice since we finished the book early. That’s no problem right? Oh, of course not, Toolshed. After all, it’s only 3pm on a Saturday afternoon in which I have plans for the rest of the day. Its not like church is at 9:25am or anything. Would you like anything else? A warm cooked meal perhaps? Maybe a foot rub? You just let me know.

All of this was only leading up to the real disaster. Anyone who knows me knows that I have a mild interest in sports, and occasionally like to be involved in the fantasy variety. It is currently the first round of the football playoffs. Our league does two weeks for each round of the playoffs, and this is the second week of the first round. My team is awesome. We have averaged 112 points per week for the past 8 weeks. The next closest team over that span averages 10 points a week less. Again, my team is awesome. To my utter dismay, someone must have alerted the members of my team and told them this was the weekend to get as many shots in on me as possible, because they capped the weekend off quite nicely. I figured even if they put up a bad week, I would be fine because I had built up a 23 point lead after the first week of playoffs, and my season low was set in the first week of the season at 82. Of course, my team puts up the ultimate stinkbomb, a season low 69 points and loses by 2. I will now proceed to smash my head into my desk repeatedly.

Maybe there is a lesson to be learned here. Maybe the cosmos is reaching out to me and trying to get my attention. Is there something I need to take away from this disastrous weekend from hell? Give me a second…… I think I’m picking up on something……. What is it? "F you, Darren. F. You. Darren." Thanks for that one, Universe. Merry Christmas to you too.

If anyone needs me, I will be broiling my head in the oven.

Winter Must Die

Well, the snow is finally here. Despite the fact that I live in Utah there is a part of me that always hopes winter will not come. Every year I think this might be the year that it just stays warm all year round, and every year like a punch to the gut it comes like a Napoleonic invasion.

I hate winter. Not sure if I’m in the minority on this one, but I do. Being cold is one of my least favorite feelings in the world, right up there with seeing Max Hall dropping back in the pocket against a ranked team. It’s weird because I have actually lived in cold weather climates for the past 10 years so you’d think I would get used to it but instead every winter seems colder than the last.

Winter also sucks because it doesn’t allow me to do any of the fun outdoor things I like to do, such as golf, baseball, laying by the pool and porching. True, Christmas is great and I do enjoy the occasional snowboarding, but it hurts my knees and is too expensive and cold to do on a regular basis. Not to mention the fact that my car would revolt if told it had to drive me up the mountain once a week. Not happening.

I think my hatred of winter is one of the reasons why I love baseball so much. When the baseball season starts, spring is finally emerging from its slumber and it literally feels like anything is possible. Each new baseball season brings the promise of a new beginning with spring vanquishing the horrible, gray, soul killing winter. Plus, there are games everyday, and I can testify that there is little in our lives that is in fact so dependable.

Even as the season is winding down, summer has just turned into fall, comfortably cooling things off and giving us one more taste of happiness before the deatheater’s kiss of winter arrives back in our lives. As a result of baseball being so closely tied with the seasons, I have been conditioned to know that if baseball is not being played, I am more than likely cold and miserable.

Now, I’m not a scientist, but I really think there is loads of promise to this whole global warming thing. If I understand the inventor of the internet correctly, we can actually influence the temperature by being careless with the way we pollute the atmosphere. Sounds like a plan! If we have been successful in doing this up until now, we need to keep going. Now is not the time to quit. The endless summer is well within our grasp. Will it screw things up for future generations? Not our problem. Besides, who wants to leave our posterity with the same freezing planet we now inhabit? Didn’t think so. Can we all commit to do our part? I sincerely hope so, because every little bit counts.

Let the games begin.

A Season of Thanks

Things that I am currently grateful for:

Thanksgiving. With no disrespect to Independence Day, I believe it is Thanksgiving that makes me proudest to be an American. An entire day devoted to eating, eating some more, and then capped off by more eating. All this is sandwiched around watching football and lounging around. Amazing. (Imagine God Bless America playing in the background while reading that last paragraph as a solitary tear rolls down my cheek.)

BYU beating Utah. Thank goodness. As Utah roared back from a 16 point deficit, I was orchestrating what would have been Tanya Hardingesque attack on Max Hall following the game. Luckily for all parties, Max did in fact make one good throw in the game, a perfect strike to a double covered Andrew George who sprinted into the end zone and saved Max from another epic choke and a potentially savage beating from my hired assailants. The important thing to remember is that Utah has once again been put in their place. Hall actually gets extra brownie points for his vicious thrashing of all things U of U after the game. Love me some trash talk. Suck it Utes!!

Technology. After watching movies and football for the past 4 days on my brother's 55 inch plasma TV, I can't help but admire the brave men and women who make such things possible. Thank you, Sony. Hopefully soon, I will be able to welcome one of your oversized models into my own apartment. Also, despite Cindy's constant belittling of my phone, it will now be allowing my to call her for free in Korea thanks to the free Skype app that was downloaded by me today. My phone accepts your apology, Cindy.

Mark Skinner. Welcome back into our lives, friend. True, it is only until Tuesday, but hopefully I can sell him on the idea of moving back to Utah until he starts getting paid handsomely for his mathematical nerdhood next year. From my lips to God's ears.

My Plea to Max Hall

Max Hall is the winningest quarterback in BYU history. So what. That is what I have to say about that. Never has a player had such great numbers yet inspired less confidence in his fans. When the public address announcer gave the congratulations over the loudspeaker after the game yesterday in which he set the record, there were actually quite a few boos, none of which came from me oddly enough. I didn’t need to. I think people finally understand who he is.

Hall is the kid you loved having on your team during practice or maybe even a scrimmage game, but when the pressure was on, you wouldn’t have chosen him until it was absolutely necessary. He can hit the open jumper, paint both sides of the plate, or haul in the long touchdown pass, but only if the game is already won, or doesn’t mean anything to begin with.

We have now seen Max for almost 3 full seasons. That is plenty enough to know that when we play Air Force, he will look like Joe Montana. Same goes for UNLV, New Mexico, Underbudget University, or any other number of mediocre to crappy teams. However, when he sees Utah, TCU, or any ranked or semi decent opponent coming through the tunnel, he folds faster than a 9 year old Asian working in a Nike sweatshop. His one redeeming moment, the final drive against Oklahoma, is the only notable exception. History has shown that to be the anomaly, the one outlier in a career all pointing to the same fact: Max Hall sucks in big games.

Would I take Hall over any of the other BYU greats? Not McMahon, Young, Bosco, Detmer, or Beck. I’d even rather have John Walsh or Brandon Doman.

Prove me wrong, Max. Beat Utah this week and look good doing it. You will have your home crowd behind you. You get to face a Utah team weakened by the draft and graduation. You are a senior, and should know everything they will throw at you. There is no excuse for you to fail. And make no mistake about it: We lost last year’s game because Max Hall failed. He was the difference in the game. Despite Utah’s undefeated record, we were fairly equal last year except for at quarterback. Brian Johnson was good, and Max Hall crapped the bed. Plain and simple.

Prove me wrong, Max. Show me that 3 years of statistics are wrong. Show me that you deserve the record you now hold. Give me a reason not to leave a flaming bag of crap on your doorstep following the final regular season game of your career. I am more than willing to let your mediocre career slide if you can do what you have been unable to do since you arrived in Provo. Just play well in a big game, Max. Just one. You can even revert back to your normal form in the bowl game. Just play well against Utah.

Because if you think I’m joking about the bag of crap, just try me.

the sound of one hand clapping

It’s always nice to know that your efforts are appreciated. I think we all realize this, but this point was driven home for me as I sat through Elder’s Quorum today. A little background is necessary.

I was called as an Elder’s Quorum instructor a few weeks ago and my first assignment was to teach on the martyrdom of the Prophet Joseph Smith. This is the last lesson in the manual and I thought it was a little early to be teaching this lesson, as there were about 8 more Sundays at the time. (I was of course correct, but the EQP was adamant that it was the correct lesson so I went ahead with it.) Nevertheless, I prepared what I thought was a well thought out and thought provoking lesson.

In the end, I thought the lesson went very well. It was well researched and had interesting outside information and plenty of personal experience. The class participation was excellent and I was pleased with the outcome. So imagine my surprise when the next lesson taught in that very Elder’s Quorum was the exact same lesson I had just given two weeks earlier. Not a ringing endorsement that I covered the information adequately. To make matters worse, there was no mention in class that we had already had the lesson, and several people in the class made comments about how they had never known certain things about the events leading up to the prophets death, despite the fact that they had also made comments in my class when we covered those specific things.

Like I said; not a ringing endorsement for my teaching skills. One positive that comes out of the situation is that I’m not going to stress too much over my next lesson, knowing that it is just part one of a two part lecture covering the exact same material. Takes a lot of pressure off, actually. I can now devote all the extra time and energy that I would have spent preparing lessons to getting mentally prepared for the upcoming bowling playoffs, which start Wednesday night. My whole life has been in preparation for this one penultimate moment. It’s time to separate the men from the boys. (Or the strong from the weak, in Jill’s case.)

May the best team win. Let’s get it on.

Random thoughts

So my computer crashed yesterday as I was compiling the much anticipated, aforementioned list. This saddens me deeply, as that post will have to wait. I could just post the list without pictures, but where's the fun in that? While this has disrupted the post I was anticipating, it hasn't defeated me. I will still come through, albeit with a slightly shorter and possibly more disjointed post than I otherwise would have made. It also might be exactly what you've come to expect.

First a word of warning. Halle Berry is a beautiful woman. There is no denying this. She has also been in several movies that would qualify her for my list, such as Swordfish, Die Another Day, and X-Men, among others. However, before perfoming a google image search of Ms. Berry, be sure that your search engine's modesty settings are set to high. I was not the only one to appreciate the lovely Halle and apparently many others appreciated her most in the topless scene that was edited out of my copy of Swordfish. You have been warned.

Speaking of inappropriateness, I had a hard time concentrating in one of my church meetings today. You could maybe say it was the fact that I had just consumed a delicious meal, thanks to AP and LIP, and you would also be right in assuming I was concerned about the close fantasy football matchup I was embroiled in. (Thanks for nothing DeSean Jackson.) Shockingly enough, these two facts had little to do with the problem of focus I was having. The culprit was a young man in front of me who seemed to have a crush on the guy sitting next to him.

Now I know I have been quick to accuse people of homosexual activity from time to time, but I think this was justified. (I also feel that wearing skinny jeans leaves any man open to questions of sexuality, but that is an argument for another time and place.) The young man in question continued throughout the meeting to lovingly and tenderly rub the back of the guy he was sitting beside. He busted out the full back scratch arsenal, including the figure 8, the one hand massage and even a little of the side rub/tickle. As this was happening right in front of me, it was difficult to focus on the speaker's topic. (Pretty sure it was something about guys not being inappropriate with other guys, but I can't be sure.)

If there was any question about the young man's feelings, they seemed to have been answered when he breathily began singing the rest hymn in his friend's ear and gave him longing looks from time to time throughout the rest of the meeting. Lets just say that I'm pretty sure this kid wasn't quite as interested as I was concerning what was happening in the Eagles-Cowboys game. I think I did see him following the men's doubles figure skating finals on his phone, though.

Finally I would like to thank everyone for the birthday shoutouts. They were much appreciated. I would particularly like to thank Cindy for a thoughtful card poking fun at my age, and to Bethanie for treating me to a delicious meal of all you can eat wings at Wingers. Highest thanks, however, are reserved for Janna and Jill, who procured three collectors items of highest literary importance for me that I can't wait to enjoy on our next roadtrip. The first of this well crafted series was discovered while at Bethanie's wedding in Atlanta two summers ago. Lets just say that if you think you've heard the scariest stories ever told, you most definitely have not. Not until you've read my new collection. Val, we need to find some way to get you in on some of these. I can only hope that all who participate are in good health with no history of heart problems. They are that good.

Upset of the Century

In a very stunning upset, Sophie Marceau in "Braveheart" has been crowned as most beautiful female movie character, according to me. This was highly unexpected, as Kate Beckinsale in "Click" has been leading the category since its inception. However, upon further review, the judges have ruled that Sophie is indeed the winner. Congratulations to both, as it is an honor just to be nominated.


The beautiful Kate


Sophie in Braveheart. Wonderful movie. Better female lead.

I will soon be unveiling the top ten beautiful women in movies of all time. Stay tuned. I'm sure all my female readers are riveted.

You Snooze, You Lose

Oh, sleep. Why are you so enticing?

I feel like there are very few things I wouldn’t give up for sleep. I once almost talked myself into sleeping through a final. I have absolutely slept through more classes than I can count, and while in Paris two summers ago, I slept 14 straight hours at one point after an all-nighter.

I know people loosely throw around the phrase, “my biggest weakness,” or my “Achilles heal,” so I will not do that here. My top ten is pretty competitive, and I don’t want to slight any of the other things that I am lousy at. Suffice it to say that the desire to sleep in is a very real personal struggle.

Sadly for me, it seems that learning to master the body’s desire to sleep is a common trait of most successful people. This does not bode well for me. The problem is that all rationale goes out the window when I am trying to wake up and my body is telling me that nothing in the world matters more than getting a few more minutes of sleep. Once I am up, it isn’t really an issue, and I can generally run somewhat effectively on small amounts of sleep, but getting up has always been, and will continue to be a struggle.

I am currently testing out a revolutionary strategy of going to bed early so that I am not quite as tired in the morning. Crazy, I know. The results have not been encouraging thus far. My body seems to intuitively know that I have more time to sleep, so it demands more sleep. I have felt just as tired getting 7-8 hours of sleep over the past 3 nights as I do when I get my typical 5-6 hours of sleep. That really doesn’t seem fair, and if it continues I will revert back to my old ways and just enjoy the extra hours in the day. Groggily.

Currently, I am reading a fascinating biography about Charles Lindbergh, the first man to make a continuous flight across the Atlantic, accomplishing the feat solo from New York to Paris. The flight itself took 33 and ½ hours during which he was forced at times to fly so close to the water that the whitecaps sprayed him with freezing water so that he could stay awake. (He asked that several panels to his cockpit stay removed during takeoff for this very purpose.) Keep in mind with all the chaos and publicity surrounding his departure, he had essentially pulled an all-nighter before he embarked on his flight.

By the time he was finally able to sleep after his heroic landing in Paris, it had been more than 63 hours since he had slept, most of those hours with the enormous pressure of knowing that the slightest mistake would kill him. He wrote the following in his journal during the flight: “My back is stiff; my shoulders ache; my face burns; my eyes smart. It seems impossible to go on longer. All I want in life is to throw myself down flat, stretch out — and sleep.”

It is amazing to me that he was able to remain awake and alert in order to accomplish that Herculean feat. I can’t even comprehend that level of discipline and focus. Great men seem to have that extra gear they can turn to when an ordinary effort would fall short. It is incredibly inspiring. Maybe the most impressive fact is that after sleeping for 4 hours and 45 minutes, he awoke at 9am to begin his day the next morning. I’m going to try and remember this the next time my body is begging for more sleep and tempting me to discard whatever important thing it is that I need to be waking up for.

I can only pray that my body and subconscious don’t adapt and begin to conjure even more enticing lies to keep me sleeping. That would really suck.

Isn't it about Time?

What do Charles Lindbergh, William Wallace and pre-Victorian aristocratic women have in common? Absolutely nothing, apart from the fact that they have dominated my life over the past few days. Let me explain.

I took an incomplete in my History on Film class, which I took my last semester of BYU. I more or less forgot about this class and only recently did I realize that I need to get it taken care of so that I don’t have to explain to law schools why I have an uncompleted class on my transcript. So this week I emailed my professor to see if it was still possible to finish the class, fully expecting him to say no, which I deserved for blowing the class off in the first place. Much to my delight, he said he would be more than willing to let me complete the class, but I would need to take care of the paperwork to get an extension on the previously agreed upon completion date. Well, friends, turns out there is a maximum time period of a year and a half from the time the incomplete is started to when it must be finished, including the extension. Yikes. This meant that I would need everything turned into the records office by 5pm next Friday.

The tricky part about all of this is that in addition to working full time, I have been taking an LSAT prep class 3 days a week, and trying to also put in 2-3 hours on the days I don’t have class. Now I would need to find time for 12 hours of films I needed to watch, about 20 hours of reading, and 30 pages of papers that would need to be turned in. This doesn’t even include the fact that locating a required BBC miniseries from 1999 and the corresponding book that were nearly impossible to find took almost a day by themselves. Still, despite this being a lot of work it seemed very doable. It was at about this time that my professor informed me that in addition to needing all of the assignments a day early to grade them, he was going out of town so I would need to submit everything to him no later than Wednesday afternoon. Son of a B.

Needless to say, I’ve been very busy since I learned of these developments on Wednesday. Pretty much every waking hour that hasn’t been devoted to work and eating has been spent trying to finish up this class by the deadline. I think I’m going to make it, but in reality it’s too soon to tell. I’ll know by Wednesday. I have, however, relearned a very important fact about myself: I hate being super busy.

I will never understand people who always need to keep themselves busy with work, projects, appointments and other such things because they would otherwise get “restless,” or “bored.” Give me an open schedule and the freedom to relax, watch TV and eat junk and I am a happy man. Maybe this is true about everyone, and I’m sure on some level it is. However, it seems taboo to openly express how lazy my inner self is. Whatever. It’s the truth.

The funny thing is on some level I think this inherent laziness makes me work harder when I actually have to work. There is no sense dragging out an assignment by halfheartedly working on it when you could just sink your teeth fully into the job at hand and give yourself more time to loaf. My friend Deanna and I used to talk about this a lot when we were studying at Cambridge a few years back. We discovered that if our classmates devoted half as much time to doing their homework as they did whining about how much they had to do, they wouldn’t even be that busy. Either do the work or don’t. Quit wasting time telling everyone how much you have to do when you could be using that time to get it done. Sadly I think I took this to the extreme while we were there and neither whined about my workload or completed it. Whoops.

It will be interesting to see if I get it all done. I hope so. In addition to wanting the incomplete off my transcript, I’ve had to turn down watching the baseball playoffs, college football, and even playing a round of golf because the time could not be spared. Let’s hope the sacrifice pays off. It would be particularly ironic if the final twenty minutes I would have needed to finish everything eluded me because I spent that time blogging about time management.

Actually, I can easily see that happening. FML.

Octoberfest

Judging by the disconcertingly small number of readers Google analytics and my comments section tells me I have, I have realized I am more or less talking to myself. While this does leave me with an intelligent and highly thoughtful audience, I realized that it doesn’t really matter what I write about so long as it is interesting to yours truly. So at the risk of alienating both of my other readers, its time to talk some baseball.

As I previously stated, my Braves did not make it into the postseason. That final NL playoff spot went to the baseball equivalent of counting sheep, your 2009 Colorado Rockies. As I type this they are trying to take a 2-1 series lead on the Phillies, which would of course make the dozens of Rockies fans in America thrilled. The Dodgers have already moved on to the National League Championship Series and await the winner of the aforementioned division series. In the interest of full disclosure, I predicted the already defeated Cardinals would represent the National League in the World Series, so my fortune telling skills leave something to be desired. Nevertheless, I think the Dodgers will have their work cut out for them no matter who emerges from the the Phills-Rocks series. I do see the Dodgers emerging victorious, mainly because their pitching staff seams to have finally hit its stride. Furthermore, once Manny Ramirez receives his next HGH shipment, he will be primed and ready to tear up the left handed rotation of the Phillies, or the just plain crappy rotation of the Rockies.

I was very happy to see the Yankees back in the postseason in the American League. Even Yankee haters have to admit, baseball is better and more interesting when they are relevant. Fans need an enemy. I’ve actually come to appreciate the Yankees and I am rooting for them to win it all this year. A large part of this is due to the treatment of Alex Rodriquez, who despite being a social misfit is one of the most talented players of our or any other lifetime. Give the steroids talk a rest. He did them like everyone else did, and still may be for all we know. We can only judge players by how they perform against their peeI’m glad to see he is performing up to his potential so far this postseason, with two bombs and six runs driven in so far in the first three games. If he continues this tear, the Yankees will not lose. He is that type of player. It is interesting how a few games can shape a players image, for better or worse, and it seems that A-Rod’s “failure to deliver in the clutch” tag is quickly disappearing.

The Angels-Yankees series should be a great one. Both teams have talented starters at the top of their rotations and solid bullpens. In the case of the Yankees, having the ability to go with Chamberlain, Hughes, and Rivera to close out games is borderline unfair. Add in the fact that they have the most loaded lineup in baseball and it is no wonder they are the prohibitive favorite to win the Series this year. I hope they do. It has been a while since they’ve stood on the top of that mountain and the baseball universe just doesn’t seem right if the Yankees have gone that long without asserting themselves as Kings of the Hill. Maybe if they win enough my mid to late 90’s hatred of them will return and I can once again proudly sport my Fenway Park souvenir “Yankees Suck” t-shirt.

I hope you all enjoy this amazing sports month. It has always been my favorite. The playoffs are in full swing, the NFL is starting to separate the contenders from pretenders, the NBA is getting ready to unfold a new season, college football is alive and well every Saturday, and college basketball is just around the corner. If I followed the NHL, I would be happy it is going on as well, but I don’t so I couldn’t care less. Add to that the fact that my fantasy football team just won for the third week in a row, the Mark it Zero bowling team is in contention for the Wednesday night league crown and I’ve been breaking 40 left and right on the golf course, all seems right in the universe.

Now I just need Megan Fox to start returning my calls.

Sharing Isn't Always a Good Thing

They gave it a good run. Despite seemingly being out of contention a month ago, my Braves made a valiant end of the season run at the wild card, sadly coming up short despite winning 16 of 19 at one point. I have to tip my cap to Cindy’s Rockies, who became the most boring team to make a run into October since Al Gore and Joseph Lieberman. I’d give her even more credit if she could name half of their starting lineup, but I’m proud of her for even caring enough to rub it in my face. I’m also proud of Los Bravos, because even though they ran out of gas in the final week, they gave fans something to hope for going into the 2010 season. Wait till next year!

With my favorite team out of contention going into this weekend, I turned my attention to my Alma Matter and their battle with Utah State. I know what you’re thinking. Utah State isn’t even an accredited university. I’m well aware of that. I’m pretty sure their football team is comprised of the first 55 people to show up to the stadium not riding a farm animal. But they are a part of BYU’s “Help a Struggling Friend Outreach Program,” so the game did indeed take place. Being the generous and Christlike individual he is, Max Hall continued his effort to distribute footballs to the opposing team, gift wrapping two passes to confused Utah State defenders who must have been shocked that Hall would so blatantly stare down the receiver he was looking to throw to. An irate, drunken man with Turrets would have been more subtle. Maybe try looking off the defender for once, Max. Give it a try for me, that’s all I’m asking.

The best news for Cougar fans was seeing #7 Brian Logan on the sidelines until late in the game when it was already decided. You might remember Logan from such performances as last weeks three pass interference penalties, two touchdowns, and probably five other big plays given up. Not sure if he was hurt this week or if the coaches finally decided it wasn’t a good idea to keep throwing out a five foot six defensive back who never feels compelled to turn around and look at the football as its coming in his direction. Either way, by keeping Logan on the sidelines, we improved our pass defense immensely. Good call, Bronco.

All in all it was a fairly mediocre performance for BYU. I think our season is going to come down to Max Hall and whether or not he decides to only throw the ball to the players wearing the same jersey he is sporting, or if he plans on continuing to share the wealth. Maybe if he finds more ways to be kind and giving off of the football field, he won’t feel so compelled to continue his Santa Clausesque generosity on the gridiron. Here’s to hoping he didn’t watch any General Conference this weekend so that he won’t feel the need to be quite as helpful to others as he has been lately.

A War of Semantics

There is a serious problem in our society and I readily admit that I am accomplice to the same crime as those around me. It’s something that has gone on long enough and it has to stop. While in a way I feel that our hand has been forced to take the road we all seem to have collectively chosen, it doesn’t justify the disservice we have done. Friends, lets pledge here and now to put an end to the madness.

We have completely and absolutely destroyed the meaning behind calling someone a douchebag.

Not too long ago in the name calling world, dropping the DB on someone deserving was like the Enola Gay unloading Little Boy on Hiroshima. It was powerful, destructive, and got results. Now I hear the term for any little offense, and it has lost all meaning. In short, we overused one of our most powerful weapons.

I think I know how we got to this point. As I previously stated, there is blame to share. How can a word not get overused when we have an influx of collar popping, skinny jeans wearing, chest shaving, flatbilled-hat sporting toolsheds walking around us constantly? I mean, have you been to the Belmont lately? Quite simply, its entrapment. Still, someone asking for it is not a good enough excuse. I’d be willing to bet most criminals guilty of violent crime thought the other person was asking for it. That doesn’t make our abuse of the term any more justified.

Despite the tremendous opportunity presented to us daily to pepper others with the douchebag tag, we need to be stronger. By playing it so free and loose with the term, we have essentially killed it as an effective way to cut someone down who is truly deserving of the label. Remember the Rumble in the Jungle? It was in this famous title fight that Muhammad Ali forced George Foreman to expend all of his energy too early in the fight by employing the “Rope a dope” strategy. He stayed back and let Foreman throw punch after punch until he had nothing left and couldn’t successfully fight in the later rounds. You might also remember this strategy from every Rocky movie ever made.

The lesson here? Save something for the later rounds. Don’t unload the big guns right out of the gate. If someone acts in a way that over the previous years would have been described as douchey, call them a tool, punk, loser, or prick. You can even invent new words. Be creative. But let’s save the big guns for those special cases that actually deserve it. The K-Feds of the world, if you will.

This is a fight that needs fighting. We are the soldiers in this war, and it must be a team effort. Together we can restore meaning to a term that if used correctly can bring down the biggest of men. Let us all vow to engage in this war of semantics effectively and without mercy. Future generations are counting on us.

Please. Don’t let them down.

Get out of the Way!!

I don’t think I’m alone in wanting to be rich. There are a myriad of reasons for wanting money, and I’m sure that most reasons are unique to each individual. Some people want to be able to travel all over the world. Others want to be able to buy nice houses and beautiful cars, not to mention electronic luxuries, while others still seek to add to their never ending wardrobes. There is absolutely nothing wrong with any of these reasons, and I admit they all sound great. But I’ve got a new one. I want to teach the citizens of Provo how to be pedestrians.

What does that mean, you say? I’ll tell you what it means. I am so sick of pedestrians in Provo. It seems like all creatures on earth have a survival instinct, with the exception of those dim-witted morons crossing our fair streets everyday. To me, walking in front of oncoming traffic seems like a poor decision. Apparently I am in the minority. Every morning I drive to work, half asleep mind you, and end up having to slam on my breaks to avoid hitting some jackass that thinks a crosswalk means you don’t have to look to see if cars are coming.

Martin Luther King Jr. had a dream, and so do I. While not as high minded, I desire to see my dream fulfilled just as passionately as Dr. King. My dream is this: to have enough money that I can hit pedestrians when then dart out in front of my car. Sadistic? Yes. Necessary? I believe so.

It is my belief that the idiotic pedestrians of Provo need to be hit by oncoming automobiles. It is the only way they will learn. If you get hit by a car, how willing will you be to march on into the road without making sure the coast is clear? Not very, I presume. I’ve heard the excuse from some of these half-wits that the driver of the car would be at fault, and therefore would have to pay for their doctor bills and maybe even a settlement. This is true. But how much money do you get if you are dead? How much money would you gladly sacrifice in order to have the ability to walk?

It doesn’t really matter if the cars are supposed to stop. That is the message I want to drive home, literally and figuratively. Someday I hope to have the means to make this dream come true. Until then I will continue to silently fume as I try my best not to comply with the death wish of the soon to be brain dead pedestrians of Provo.

My Bucket List

Visit every major league baseball stadium
Kiss someone at the top of the Eiffel Tower
Attend the Masters Golf tournament in Augusta, Georgia
Break par on 18 holes of Golf (not miniature)
Have season tickets to the nearest major league baseball team
Attend the Super Bowl, World Series, NBA and Stanley Cup Finals, and the Collegiate National Championship in Football, Baseball, and Basketball
Skydive
Bungeejump
Travel to all 6 hospitable continents (no desire to freeze my ace off in Antarctica)
Publish a book
Live in Europe for a year
Visit every state in the Union (still have 6 to go)
Bench Press 275 pounds
Catch a foul ball at a major league game
Attend a Premier League Soccer game in England
Successfully complete the Gallon Challenge
Celebrate New Years at Times Square
Go on an African Safari
Serve a Mission with my wife
Go on a cruise
Stay in a 5 star hotel
Visit all 19 Presidential Libraries
Walk on the Great Wall
Visit Stonehenge
Visit the Pyramids in Egypt
Jerusalem (see it all)

I will continue to add to the list as necessary but I think this is a pretty good one to start with. It would be amazing to accomplish all of these things. Most of it relates to sports and traveling, as they are two of my greatest loves. Any thoughts or suggestions?

Suck it Korea!

Oh, BYU. You were awesome again this weekend. Please continue your dominance. Even if it results in me visiting Cindy in Korea, which I have promised to do if we win the national championship. Who would have though it was actually a possibility? Not me. Nevertheless, I would be happy to visit under such circumstances. That is all. Yes, Cindy, this is copping out. Two blogs to come this week as penance. Loves.

For Love of the Game

I love sports, absolutely and completely. It’s hard to say what it is I love most about them, or even why I fell in love in the first place. I love competition and how it either brings out the best or the worst within us. I love to see people excel at something they have devoted their lives to, and I love the utter joy or despair that comes after giving your all and either winning or losing. I love the endless possibilities of a new season as well as the finality of that season’s end. But most of all I love the passion.

A very good friend of mine and I were discussing the subject of passion a while back and I still think about that conversation today. When I talk about passion, I mean the pure love of something to the point that you devote your whole self to it. This can be a hobby, a profession, an interest or just about anything. Often this is something over which we have little control. The beauty of caring so deeply for something partially or wholly out of your control is that by totally and completely immersing yourself in it, you can win big or lose big.

This is why I’m a sports fan. There is nothing like devotedly following a team and having that team win. I’ve known people that have loose affiliations with a team and when that teams wins, they are happy, but nowhere near as happy as the person who dutifully followed that team from the beginning, experiencing all the highs and lows that led to the victory. To experience that highest level of joy, you have to be there for the losses, and those losses have to hurt. It is a much more difficult way to be a fan, but the payoff is unquestionably worth it.

My dad called me after BYU beat Oklahoma last night, and all of these thoughts about passion came flooding back into my mind. He was elated. My dad is an alumnus of BYU, and he has been their most loyal fan. For 30 years he has been there for the good and bad times, enjoying a national championship as well as losing seasons; riding the wave of emotion from a trip to the Elite Eight and dying a little with every first round NCAA tournament loss. As we talked about the unbelievable victory, I remembered why it is I love sports and why I will continue to put my heart and soul into rooting for the teams I love even when the other team’s field goal try doesn’t sail wide left.

I’m so glad my dad taught me how to care deeply and passionately. By and large I think this is something sorely missing in the world today. People get hurt and they either stop caring, or guard themselves against caring too much, but either way, they miss out on the treasure that is rewarded passion. One of my favorite sports writers, Roger Angell, summed up my feelings on this topic more eloquently and beautifully than I could hope to:

It is foolish and childish, on the face of it, to affiliate ourselves with anything so insignificant and patently contrived and commercially exploitive as a professional sports team, and the amused superiority and icy scorn that the non-fan directs at the sports nut (I know this look -- I know it by heart) is understandable and almost unanswerable. Almost. What is left out of this calculation, it seems to me, is the business of caring -- caring deeply and passionately, really caring -- which is a capacity or an emotion that has almost gone out of our lives. And so it seems possible that we have come to a time when it no longer matters so much what the caring is about, how frail or foolish is the object of that concern, as long as the feeling itself can be saved. Naiveté -- the infantile and ignoble joy that sends a grown man or woman to dancing and shouting with joy in the middle of the night over the haphazardous flight of a distant ball -- seems a small price to pay for such a gift.

Amen. And go Cougars!!

Oh the Vanity!

It seems like most things in life are very subjective and it is nigh unto impossible to know what is normal, because all we have to rely on are our own senses and experiences. For example, I am color blind. I have taken many tests on the matter, bombing each and every one in spectacular fashion. It appears to be legit. I don’t know what anyone else sees when they see the colors I struggle to differentiate. All I know is what my eyes tell me. Physical pain is the same way. We will never know what another person experiences when they feel pain. All we know is what we feel when experiencing the same thing or something close to it. Most feelings and perceptions can be relegated to this unknown realm.

I often worry that I am too shallow when it comes to looks. In my defense, I don’t think I am any shallower than any other guy, but that is not really the issue and it would be impossible to tell anyways. All I can do is focus on myself, so I will not try and defend my gender on this issue. (Another time I will discuss which is the shallower sex, but that is for another day.) What makes me think so often about this is the fact that I am very single, and from time to time pass up the chance to date very nice, attractive girls that apparently don’t excite my eyes enough. Am I being too picky, or am I being smart and not settling for something I don’t want?

Remember the movie Shallow Hal with Jack Black? Through hypnosis or something like it, he gets the ability to see women for their inner beauty. As far as he knows, he is dating absolutely gorgeous women, but in fact they are quite repulsive. Is it real? No. But who cares? I think this would be one of the greatest blessings ever bestowed upon a human being. Who cares what other people think? If you think the person is hot, they’re hot. I’ve never understood people who are swayed on that topic by what others think.

So here is my point. I think I am the perfect amount of shallow. Did I come to this conclusion objectively? Absolutely not. I do, however, know that I am the only one who can tell how attracted to a person I am. If a girl claims that a guy isn’t ambitious enough for her, she is usually left alone about the subject. What if someone feels like a guy/girl isn’t spiritual enough? Oh, you should never settle. But looks somehow trigger a different response. Don’t be so superficial. You shouldn’t be focusing on appearance so much.

Well, kids, I’m here preaching a different gospel. Never settle. It doesn’t matter what area it is. If I’m the only one that knows what I see and feel, I’m the only one capable of determining what it is I want. Why should ambition be more important than looks? It shouldn’t. Be strong. Hold out.

Just promise to come and visit me when I’m old and alone.

Nitpicker's Delight

So I started an LSAT prep class a few weeks ago. I think the whole concept of taking a class so that you can do better on a test that is supposed to measure your prowess at logic is ridiculous. I wish everyone would just walk into these types of exams and take the test. Isn’t that what was intended when the test was invented? It seems like instead of measuring how logical you are, it is measuring how well you prep for an exam. Different skill set, I think. Whatever. I can play the game. I didn’t throw the party, I just came to get down.

Today’s class was interesting. Not a whole lot of new info being shared, but we did quite a bit of practice with logic reasoning problems. Pretty straightforward. You read a very short passage and then answer a question or two about it. The important thing, as my instructor Brent Dunn explains, is to be very careful with the semantics of the statement and answers. If I tell you that some people like chocolate, that is very easy to agree with, as it is a weak assertion. By changing to most people like chocolate, I increase the burden of proof dramatically. If I say all people like it, then that is an easy argument to tear down. Never assume more than is asserted and always be sure that you understand when a certainty is clearly stated. We messed around with plenty of these types of words; probably, certainly, often, always, never, etc. You get the picture. If you are asking wtf is interesting about this the answer is pretty clear: nothing.

What I thought was interesting, however, was the point the instructor made when applying these types of wordings to real life situations. He explained that by picking apart these uses of language with those around us, as well as exaggerations in general, we would technically be correct but after a while nobody would want to hang out with you because you would be so annoying.

First of all, amen. Unless purely for comic effect, this type of behavior bugs. Even if it’s funny, the humor wears off fairly soon. I really didn’t have a second of all, but I like using the phrase “first of all.” The funny thing is that when we were discussing this, I realized that I have been well prepared in this area because it just so happens that I hang out with several people who thoroughly enjoy picking these nits. I get called out all the time for these types of exaggerations. Not that it has stopped me from spinning a yarn or two.

Let it be known that I do exaggerate. I enjoy telling stories but sometimes they are just ok and need that little extra juice to get em over the top. Nobody cares if some guy at the grocery store gave me a menacing stare, but they would care if we went toe to toe and almost came to blows. Does the truth suffer? Yes, it does. Heart wrenching as it may be, it does. But sometimes there are casualties when looking out for the greater good. And by greater good, I mean providing entertainment and laughs to those around me, all the while making me look good. Win-win.

Who cares about accuracy anyway? Not me, I can promise you that. Did George Washington really chop down a cherry tree or whip a fastball across the Potomac? Unlikely. Did the flawless face of Troy’s Helen actually launch a thousand ships? Don’t care. Did Wilt Chamberlain really... ok so I won’t go there. But you get the picture. Hyperbole is cool. Tall tales are so in. Always have been, and always will be. Give me a captivating lie over an uninteresting truth any day. It is, after all, the foundation upon which this great nation was built. George did indeed say it best, but he’s often misquoted. I cannot tell a lie?

Pretty sure he just meant boring ones.