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I liked all sports, but always believed that football was the best. I always longed for football season and Sundays glued to the TV. But this year felt different–I’ve been longing for baseball ever since October. At least twice a week since Christmas, I’ve said out loud “I miss baseball.” I come to realize baseball is my true love and my favorite sport. Now with this whole Arod announcement–to realize what I love is fake–it makes me feel sick.
Now that I’m unemployed, I have a lot more time on my hands and decided to do a little research. Why am I so upset? Why am I bothered? Because steroids cheated the game of baseball. Not just the retired players who saw their milestones passed, but the fans. The game we’ve been watching the past 15 years isn’t what baseball is supposed to be. Look at some of the stats I’ve managed to accumulate.*
The top six all-time single-season home run hitters have ties to steroids. Name HRs Barry Bonds 73 Mark McGwire 70 Sammy Sosa 66 Mark McGwire 65 Sammy Sosa 64 Sammy Sosa 63 Of the top 24 single-season home run hitters, 14 happened after 1961 (when Maris . . . . .
As the Alex Rodriguez steroid scandal unfolded, I traded emails with a buddy of mine. The nature of these letters explored my emotional impact of baseball’s best player being a cheat. I thought they were rather well-written (that and it’s been a slow week) so I decided to post my side of the emails here.
This Arod announcement has taken me to a new level of jaded. Not because I’m a scorn Yankee fan, but because what it means. I now realize there is nothing true from the home run explosion of the 90s. Mark Grace wasn’t mediocre because he didn’t hit enough bombs–he just happened to be the only person clean. Look at the list–all of the great players of the past 15 years are linked to steroids. I’m not going to name everyone because you know every one, but the majority of them have juiced. Not just speculation. Now there’s failed drug tests and BALCO allegations. Camaniti and Canseco’s claim of 75 percent of baseball looks very, very true.
Arod was supposed to be different. I remember when he was a number one pick out of high school. He was always supposed to be great so that’s . . . . .
The economy is bad (or so the experts say) and my employer felt that my position had to be eliminated.* Faced with the option of paying off my student loans with no income, I decided to delay the inevitable and return to school full time. It doesn’t seem that long since I was a full-time student, but considering “Who Wants To Be a Millionaire” was popular and “Dawson’s Creek” was still on the air, I guess it has. The year was 2003 and I was finishing up my final college semester by sleeping through boring, pointless classes.
The biggest thing that has changed is the technology. I wrote about this a few months back, but it’s even greater than I realized. Back in 2003, I was a major email-user; unfortunately, the majority of my teachers were not. Very few were willing to communicate by email; now I have teachers insisting that all papers are emailed so we can save trees.
The computer has made everything different. At my school, everything gets done online. You can register for classes, check grades, even pay tuition. None of this was available in 2003. It might not seem like much, but it’s a whole . . . . .
I generally don’t make impulse buys. No–that’s a lie: I NEVER make impulse buys. When I head to somewhere to buy something, I buy that something and nothing else (it’s not cheap: it’s falling under budget). Best Buy can offer me all the accessories and add-ons they want; I’m not walking out of there with anything more than what I planned to buy. Grocery stores hate me: I buy only what’s on sale with a low mark-up (milk, meat, and bread). I’ll pass on the magazines, sticks of gum, bars of candy, and Aqua Globes. That’s how one can afford to survive when they have no money. At least I use to be…until I caved and made my first-ever impulse buy.
A 20 pound bag of rice.
I was at the grocery store to by milk (and only milk) and saw a giant palate stacked chin-high with 20-pounds bags of rice. The sign said $10 and called it a “special buy.” Since I am a smart shopper, I disregard any claims to “A Deal” unless I can verify the price myself. So I went back to the store, got my milk, and intended to return to the checkout lane. But . . . . .
I am perhaps the least celebrity-obsessed person in this country. I don’t visit TMZ or watch “Entertainment Tonight.” I think “US Weekly” is the worst magazine ever created. I don’t know who Jennifer Anniston is dating and couldn’t care less if Brangelina’s kids got eaten by a mountain lion.
I’m not saying this because I work at in television and come across third-rate celebrities on a weekly basis–it’s because I think being famous doesn’t make you any more interesting than everyone else. George Clooney is a movie star: his talent is to speak words written for him by someone else. The only difference between me and him is gorgeous looks and a bazillion dollars (it’s like we’re separated at birth). I don’t need to know his view on politics, whom he’s dating, or what he looks like without makeup. Celebrities are just people and no more fascinating than my next door neighbor whose name I don’t know. I don’t care what’s going on in my neighbor’s life–same goes true for George Clooney.
That’s why I’ll never be one to go gaga when seeing a celebrity. I really don’t care what they did to become famous. To me, a celebrity is . . . . .
On of the great aspects of the internet is it gives everyone a voice. Any schmuck–including me–can post anything they want online. It’s great insight to what makes people tick…and away to see what real people are like out there. I stumbled across a web site call ripoffreport.com. It’s a consumer advocacy site that encourages people to discuss potentially fraudulent enterprises. From lost rebates to poor customer service, consumers can share their complaints with other consumers–all in the name of warning the public.
One company that seemed to get a lot of hate was Drivetime Autosales (it also goes by the name Ugly Duckling Car Sales). The list of complaints went on and on. And as I read about a dozen of them, I failed to see a single instance where the consumer was wronged. Sure, the dealer did a lot of shady stuff–but consumers have a right to walk away. People should know better. Anyone who acts that stupid deserves any sorta rip-off that comes there way.
The majority of complaints were what you’d expect for a used car dealer. People complained about this not working or that needed repairs. Anytime you buy a used car you’re taking risks . . . . .
I’m completely upside down. If radio programming is any indication, most people prefer to listen to talk in the AM and music on the way home. Top-40 radio stations have whacky morning DJs, complete with schtick. Conversely, during the drive time talk formats are abandoned in lieu of a music-heavy format.
I’m the complete opposite. When I drive to work in the morning, I wanna hear hard music–something to wake me up and invigorate the start of my day. But when heading home, I am completely exhausted and drained. The last thing I wanna hear is hard, loud music that rattles my brain. I like talk radio because it’s easy on the ears and doesn’t take too much out of me…which appears to be the exact opposite of what any Top-40 station would play.
Either I’m a complete freak or everyone else is wrong–I’m leaning toward the latter.
As I’ve stated before, I don’t believe in carpooling. Not because I’m a cold-hearted Grinch–it’s just too much of a hassle for me. If carpooling was easy and I wouldn’t hafta stray from my routine, my opinion would be different.
I cite my life as a prime example why carpooling doesn’t work. . . . . .
I don’t watch much television outside of shows created by Jerry Seinfeld, animated by Matt Groening, or voiced by Trey Parker–so I’m not exactly the world’s foremost expert on television. There are many shows I’ve never seen. I don’t know what Colbert is reporting, who O’Reilly is factoring, or why stars are dancing. I can’t tell the difference between Larry King and Lou Dobbs. I thought Wolf Blitzer was a cook.
Even with all I don’t know, I can’t imagine there’s a bigger blowhard of hot air than the obnoxious Nancy Grace. I’ve never sat down to watch her program because I prefer my news from a more reliable source (like theonion.com); however, The Wife is a big fan of her show and since it’s on 48 times a day, I’ve managed to pick up tidbits here and there.
Nancy Grace is exactly what’s wrong with television news personalities. Hell, her show is the ultimate example of the sensationalistic nature of the media. Every episode of her show acts like it’s uncovering the greatest mystery the universe has ever seen. On screen, there’s a rolling ticker that updates whatever story she’s discussing (from her own slanted view) with the label . . . . .
Not being gay myself, I wouldn’t dare assume to know what gay people think. But I’m a compassionate individual and an observer of the world around me. In my opinion, there’s two kinds of gay people: those who were born that way and those who choose to be gay.
What’s that you say? I’m coping out on the world’s most controversial topic since Tastes Great vs. Less Filling? I don’t think of it as a copout…more like my way of saying everybody is right.
There are those who will tell you homosexuality is in your DNA–some people are born gay and some are not. I believe there are a lot of things out of an individual’s control. I wish I was taller. And no matter how much milk I drink or much I practice, I’ll never get taller. I think it’s the same way for a lot of gay folks. I don’t choose to be short; they don’t choose to be gay. Life can’t be easy as a homosexual. There’s the ridicule from parents and friends. They ugly stereotypes portrayed in Hollywood. The ruthless beatings from small-minded brutes. Why would anyone choose that lifestyle? All your inert desires contradict everything . . . . .
I’m tempted to add the US Postal Service to my long list of banned businesses (including, but not limited to: Toys-R-Us, Purrfect Auto Care, the Walt Disney Corporation, Bank of America, Kevin Costner movies, and KFC–which has since been rescinded). That’s right: the Post Office will never get another dime out of me. Kramer was right ten years ago: the Post Office is simply an entity that outlived its time.
I was at the Post Office because I had to ship a package. When it came time to pay for the postage, the clerk refused my credit card because it wasn’t signed in the back. See, I like to think I’m smarter than the average bear. A signed credit card doesn’t protect you from fraud–hell, it just makes it easier for the criminals to pull off a heist. That’s because with a signed credit card, the deviants have an exact sample of your signature. All they gotta do is practice it at home and–viola!–a perfect forgery. But leaving a blank card is pretty foolish too because the criminal simply sign the card and make “your” signature look anyway he wants. So many years ago, I came up with a foolproof . . . . .
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