College football: Freudian slip

During the Old Miss-South Carolina football telecast tonight, Erin Andrews said that the "Old Mess" players were exhausted. Heh. Probably one of the more insightful things I've heard a sports broadcaster say. I'd be exhausted, too, if my booty was getting whupped.

Nuggets of wisdom about Milton Bradley using Milton Bradley board game titles

In light of the new Milton Bradley news, namely his suspension from the Cubs for the rest of the year, here are a few thoughts about that legendarily truculent player using titles of Milton Bradley board games. Why? Because it's Sunday, I'm lazy, and writing too much about Milton Bradley is a poor use of pixels and bad for the soul. Yet the evident end of his career with the Cubs must somehow be marked, so...

•  Maybe if Milton Bradley hadn't had such a SORRY year, actually earned his salary, he would be more loved by the fans and media, and perhaps they would have a higher tolerance for his personality quirks. SORRY, but if he's going to act like T.O., he needs to play like T.O.!
  
  
• It must be hard going through LIFE with a boulder-sized chip on one's shoulder.
  
  
• I don't have a CLUE why the hell Cubs general manager Jim Hendry signed him in the first place.
  
  
• Compared to how little most of us poor slobs will make in our lifetimes, working as a ball player is EASY MONEY.
  
  
• It BOGGLES the mind to think that someone with such a bad rep would be given so many chances to do good and fail every time.
  
  
• I think some time aboard a BATTLESHIP might have straightened this young man out, as time in the military can sometimes build character.
  
  
• Back in the 19th century, people with Milton Bradley's obvious mental problems would be given an OPERATION which would involve cutting out part of the brain's frontal lobe -- otherwise known as a lobotomy.
  

Rant: Cancer sucks

This is has nothing at all to do with baseball or any of the alleged themes of this blog. This is just a slice of my aggravation with life. Sue me.

Both my husband and I have lost one parent each to cancer -- with my husband's mother dying at age 39 of breast cancer and my dad dying at age 55 of prostate cancer. They both missed out on being part of my wonderful son's life. We miss them both beyond measure

Now my stepfather, who my son calls "granddaddy," is facing long odds and a flurry of bad news in his battle with his latest battle against colon cancer. It hardly seems fair that he's been given the dread burden at such a young age. He's at a point in life when he should be fretting about more trivial things such as the condition of his lawn, the frustrations of work, the high cost of homeowners' insurance in Florida. It's also supremely unfair that my son, who didn't get to meet two of his grandparents, may lose a third one at such a young age. 

Want to know how you can help? Get involved with the American Cancer Society's Relay for Life. And educate yourself.

A week's 'vacation'

Due to Labor Day Holidaze and being sick, the blog was neglected for a whole week. Poor, pitiful blog. Here, have a hanky.

A few Cubbie haikus

My apologies to whomever wrote baseball haikus before me. And apologies to the Japanese poets who perfected this art form that I profane with my clumsy, clunky verse.

Milton Bradley
Don't blame the "boo" birds.
"Talent" doesn’t compensate
for your lax effort.


Geo Soto
Awesome first season –

Can it make up for how poor

His sophomore has been?

Mike Fontenot

Tired of short jokes

And endless LSU team notes.

He's a bench player.

Carlos Zambrano

Pointing at the sky,

Bluster, bravado, doesn't

get one a Cy Young.