…but no.
Fred Flintstone and his gang got the best of the Browns again last night. I’m too tired to put the disappointment into words, so I’ll just leave white space and you can imagine me doing it, k?
K.
~
FO
I know. Schadenfreude is not nice. Let’s just call it, mehhh…justice.
Did you notice how, after the game, Dwayne Wade and other Heat players stayed on the court to congratulate the Dallas guys, but Mr. I’ma Take My Talents to Souf Beach exited stage left without speaking to anyone? Such telling moments define character, one way or the other.
The Heat will likely win a championship or five, if the planets align and they all play their best in the playoff stretch. I’m just glad it wasn’t this year. Reeeeally glad.
Schadenfink out.
…in a weary world.
OK, back to lamenting the hapless Browns (and the future of the NFL in general).
Mondays can be fun. I thought that thought as I picked up my broken carcass off the sidewalk after taking one step down the stairs to let Rousseau out, and going airborne. Hot shower and aspirin: breakfast of champions.
Sorry for the lack of finkiness today, luvs. Spent all my morning time reading about the Mangini issue. Blah! Now I’m running late…
Mas tarde.
That’s what I said when I went upstairs last night, after giving up on the last four minutes of the Cavs getting smoked (again).
I’ve been reading the sports blogs this morning. People are actually saying that LeBron is playing badly on purpose, or out of sheer apathy. I refuse to believe someone like him would want to lose, or to throw a game because his contract’s up and he wants to leave, possibly to play for the Knicks. In fact, I believe just the opposite: LeBron wants a championship in Cleveland so other teams will fight for him. (Why would he leave though, when Cleveland can pay him the most? Guess it could be more about the wanderlust than the wampum…)
Still, it was depressing. As I got ready for bed, I thought, “Cripes! It’s just basketball. Get over it.” I’m thinking it’s a bit more than that. It’s pulling for a city, not just a team. A city whose river caught on fire one day back in the 70s, and has never lived it down. A city that’s come this close to winning championships before (Indians in the late 90s, Browns in the late 80s), but never quite grabbed the ring. A Rust Belt city whose people deserve a championship. My goodness, I wax poetic this morning. I love me.
Anyway.
Did you know they had to construct a database to keep track of all the NFL players who’ve been arrested? That made me laugh.
What did not make me laugh: Men Who Stare at Goats. OK, I laughed a couple of times.
Gonna be a Weird Wednesday. Hope you enjoy yours!
FO