Brushes with Greatnesses

A few days ago I asserted to myself that late Feburary is a pretty nice time of year. You've endured the bulk of winter and accept the cold for what it is, whatever that is. Figure it out yourself or ask Bill Callahan.

Save the NBA All Star Weekend, this period is devoid of interesting sports events, though recent sports blogs have managed to produce non-sports sports stories of feigned interest. Even if Bill Simmons is telling me how great college ball this year, conviently shown exclusivly on ESPN networks, I'm not watching it. Maybe a little Big 12.

Ok, I really just want to talk about my recent run-ins with Houston sports broadcasters. Sorry for the shitty intro.

I went to Ken Lay Memorial, a.k.a. Minute Maid Park, for Astros fan fest and a college baseball tournament a week or two ago. Bought a scalped ticket for cheap. One of the few times a bought something on the streets from a black guy and didn't get swindled. Seriously, I give my money away to black people all the time.

Yeah, so I walk in and Jim DeShaies is signing at a table free to the public. "Yes", I think to myself, "this is indeed awesome". I walk a loop around the stadium to scope the scene and come back to get my ticket signed by the Astros TV colorman and major league record holder for most consecutive strike outs to begin a game. It was a little awkward because he was making small talk with grade school kids when I approached. But yeah, I met and didn't say anything to J.D. other than, "Hey, Jim Deshaies, would you sign this?" I refer to people by their first and last names if it's possible.

I watched Vanderbilt vs. Baylor in a seat next to the coach at U.H.(who looked like an alkie) near the press box. Almost bought a matchbook from 1941 with the yankees schedule for $20 but pass.

So just this Monday I was surprised to see Matt Bullard, the Rockets away game colorman and Steve Novak enthusiast, in the pizza shop I frequent and get stoned in. Dude is fucking skinny like a bitch and doesn't look like a pro baller at all, even though he's like 6'10". I thought really hard about a Clyde Drexler joke to make with him but couldn't produce. Maybe I should have asked him about the Glide's myspace

Sunday afternoon drinking.

The All Star Saturday Night on TNT rocked my world. Not only for the festivities but for the network's outstanding programming decisions. Maybe two hours of Las Vegas followed by freaking Snake Eyes.

I was in Las Vegas during last years weekend when it was in Houston. For a while there last night I could not stop from imagining myself triumphantly winning large sums of money in duces wild video poker at Mandalay Bay and Hard Rock as many talented and famous people rejoiced amongst themselves in the foreground.

I should have an update later today near gametime after I finish this six pack of Tecate.

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Retail businesses should not close at 7 PM on Sunday night. Especially malls. Won't somebody think of my need for a cheap orange chicken combo. Very uncool.

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Mike D'Antoni looks like a guy who has had a real nice weekend. It looks like he should be carrying a gin and tonic around that is always more than empty.

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That movie Black Snake Moan looks challenging.

I need me some ESPN Deportes

My blazon prediction for the Australian Open didn't work out like I had hoped. However, I think it sets a good trend for future posts: predicting stuff that has a very small chance of happening then consequently looking like either a dumbass or a genius. Allright.

NBA TALK

Cleveland is now 8-2 sans The LeBrons. I don't really know how to react to this and am not going to bother to look up who the games were against but it seems like something to note.

Their game against Detroit before the Super Bowl was fun to watch. Webber sporting number 84 is strange though. Apparently his nephew called when he was trying to figure out which number to take and told him that he dreamed C-Webb hit a shot and was wearing 84. Too bad that's not his kid with Tyra. Definitely what Webber was thinking.

Highlights of the game included Ilgauskas calling LeBron to pass him the ball at the top, Varejao not getting enough minutes, and me saying Rasheed Wallace in a hushed wisper every two to three minutes like I imagine Samuel L. Jackson would.

Apropos of nothing, Chris Bosh looks like an actual raptor. How did this happen? Also, why am I not going to Vegas for NBA All Star Weekend? Very unfortunate.

SUPER BOWL TALK

At least the first quarter was exciting. Could it have killed the Bears to score a second half touchdown? My favorite part of the entire week was a Clinton Portis interview I caught on ESPN mid-day crapfest 1st and 10. Now I couldn't tell you who interviewed Portis, but I assure you that: One, he was really white. Two, it was awesome.

Standard operating interview procedure. Portis and host sitting two feet apart behind an open air desk. Immediately the host tries to touch Clinton Portis on the shoulder or arm in what he believes to be a friendly gesture. Portis won't have any of it and slides away at least another 18".

Host: Where's the best place to get some sun?
Portis: The nude beach.
Host: What is the highlight of the week?
Portis: Working on Taekwondo, jump kicks and playing Frisbee with kids.
Host: Are you going to stab me?
Portis: Probably not.
Host: Ladies and gentlemen, Clinton Portis.