Tag: football

Mild Rant

Mindlessly net surfing, I encountered stories that mildly attracted me, just to see what they were about. They were probably among twenty stories of this kind that I encountered. These two, though, pressed my Rant button.

Take One: Atlanta home demolished

That’s what it says on the Bing search page. MSN, AP News, USA Today, and others are covering the tale with headlines like this one from AP.

The Associated Press

The Associated Press

Woman returns from vacation to find Atlanta home demolished

Makes it sound to me as if the destroyed home was the place she was living in. But no.

From the article: ‘“It’s been boarded up about 15 years, and we keep it boarded, covered, grass cut, and the yard is clean,” she said. “The taxes are paid and everything is up on it.”’

It’s been vacant and boarded up for fifteen years. While I admit that someone made a big mistake and demolished a vacant, boarded up home by accident, and that would be upsetting, I think the way the story is projected is wholly misleading.

Take Two: Former Teammates Now Opponents

Yes, this is what’s on ESPN/NFL’s page: a story about two NFL quarterbacks.

TEAMMATES TURNED OPPONENTS

DOLPHINS-EAGLES: 8:20 P.M. ET

Inside the complicated rivalry of Tua Tagovailoa and Jalen Hurts2dTim McManus and Marcel Louis-Jacques

The way this story is presented, they make it sound as if the NFL isn’t full of college teammates who get drafted by NFL teams and end up playing against one another.

This article focuses on Jalen Hurts and Tua Tagovailoa, quarterbacks who played at Alabama. Hurts was the starter. With a record of 28-2 and a national championship, he was highly regarded and respected, and definitely capable. But Alabama was being shut out. So he was pulled and Tua was put into the game.

Gosh, that never happens in a football! Coaches are always very careful about these things, putting players’ feelings and reputations above winning (yes, that is snark). I can’t think of any other time that a player who wasn’t doing well was benched so another player could be tried, neither in college or the pros. (Yes, that was more snark. It’s a snarky kind of day.)

Fast forward to this year. Hurts now plays for the Eagles and lost in the last Superbowl and Tagovailoa quarterbacks the Miami Dolphins. The two will meet again when their teams play today. Hence, the story.

Yes, I read both stories. Fortunately, they’re not major events. Sure, it’s upsetting to the woman to lose her vacant other home this way; I’d be pissed, too, if someone went to the wrong address and tore the place down. And the way the company has handled it (so far) does nothing to redeem them. But no one was hurt.

Likewise, the football story was a small distraction in an otherwise war-weary and politically numb world, a story significant or meaningful to some serious fans of the teams or players involved, but net fodder for the rest of us.

And yes, in a way, I’m doing the same thing: posting net fodder. But I’m doing it to distract myself from doing other things.

Hope it wasn’t too boring. Cheers

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Monday’s Wandering Thoughts

Watching an NFL football game on television yesterday, I heard the analyst say about a running play where the team lost yardage, “He ended up with a negative loss.”

That spun my thinking. I’d never heard it before during a football game. Hearing it prompted me to wonder, can a football team have a positive loss? It seemed like a screwy way to express the results.

I can imagine some football fans trying to come up with a way to establish a negative loss. Like, not only did they lose yardage, but the clock kept running, meaning that they’re running out of time. That means, with the score as it is, they’ll probably lose because they’re behind and not much time to play remains.

That sounds like modern NFL football, convoluted and a little contorted, becoming more abstract by the week.

For instance, on a quarterback sneak, it looked like the player was stopped short of the goal line. It was fourth down, so that team turned it over on downs.

But wait, it looked like the quarterback fumbled the ball and another player on his team recovered it, so it’s a touchdown.

No, the referee explained: “Only the person fumbling the ball may advance it. Therefore, the ball will be placed at the point of the fumble, and possession has changed due to loss of downs.”

Got that?

That wasn’t the end. The team who didn’t score — the Eagles, BTW — threw a red flag to challenge the result. That ended with the Eagles having a touchdown awarded them. That’s because, before the QB fumbled, the ball crossed the plane of the goal line before his body was down. Officials in New York figured that out by using multiple sychronized television angles to determine exactly where the ball and the QB’s body parts were during which point of the play.

Yow. Watching resulted in a positive increase of confusion AND exasperation.

Imagine trying to use ‘negative loss’ in other ways. I know that in some emotional situations, people like to express positive loss and negative loss, trying to spin, for example, someone’s death in a positive way. I have done that: “At least they’re not feeling pain.” I think that’s positioning a negative event with a positive outcome.

Drinking my coffee. I suppose I could say, “I’m going to drink more coffee, which will result in a negative loss of coffee in my mug.”

I wouldn’t, though. That’s laborious. I’d just say the obvious, “I’m going to drink more coffee, so there will be less remaining in my mug.” I could even shorten that: “I’m going to drink more coffee, so I’ll have less remaining.”

Or, I could tell my wife that after shopping for groceries, we had a negative loss in our checking account.

I’m sure that would earn me a WTF look from her.

Why, though, would such a declaration be even needed? Isn’t it self-evident that there’s less coffee after I drink some? I think it is, unless it’s a magically self-refilling cup. As for whether it’s positive or negative, that depends on your outlook: is the mug half-empty or half-full? Are you a pessimistic or optimist?

I don’t usually think in terms of glasses and mugs being half-empty or half-full. I usually think, “I have some left,” or, “It’s gone.” Does that mean that I’m just a pragmatist? Or am I merely focused on the situation’s bottom line: I have some or I don’t.

I’m no doubt overthinking the turn of words, but I hope ‘negative loss’ doesn’t catch on. It probably will, the way that saying, “I literally died” is now acceptable to so many. Sure. Now that you ‘literally died’, you’ve returned to life. Are you undead or have you been resurrected?

I suspect some became zombies after they ‘literally died’. That might explain our state of politics. *rim shot* (Yes, that was snark.) The ‘literally died’ lost some brain cells during their experience, negatively decreasing their thinking skills. (See what I did there?)

It’s like hearing, as I so often do, “I was thinking in my head.” Well, where else would you be thinking? In your foot?

That’s like saying, “I was chewing in my mouth.” Okay. I’m glad you’ve mastered that. (Yes, that was more snark.)

Although, after drinking coffee just now, I had a positive gain in my energy and focus. BTW, I drink my coffee black, without cream. (Hello, it’s more snark.)

It’s kinda like saying that football team had a negative loss.

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Friday’s Wandering Thoughts

He watched a series called “Quarterbacks” on Netflix. It focused on three NFL quarterbacks. One of them is Patrick Mahomes of Kansas City. After a big play that clinched a game for his team, Mahomes ran around the field, jumping and shouting, “That’s what I fucking do. That’s what I fucking do. That’s what I fucking do.”

He admired the man’s enthusiasm, energy, and celebration. Maybe after finishing a chapter in the novel in progress, he should celebrate in the same way, leaping up and running around the coffee shop shouting, “That’s what I fucking do. That’s what I fucking do. That’s what I fucking do.”

Probably wouldn’t go over too well, he decided. Disrupt the ambiance too much. Best to just continue celebrating successes with private exultation.

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Tuesday’s Theme Music

It’s a nice day for a white sky. Trees still demonstrate a belly-dance shimmy to the wind’s energetic music. Temperatures have climbed to 41 F. Sunshine sneaks in, lays a flash on us, and darts back away. A high of 46 F is on the way, they say.

Today is Tuesday, Jan. 3, 2023. I find myself surprised. Tuesday, already? Three days into the new year. Well, that was fast. It’s like the year is racing in to claim it as its own. Sunrise was at the same time as the last two days, 7:40 AM, but sunset has moved another minute back, to 4:51 PM. I cherish the extra light.

News has me delayed from the posting the theme music. First there was news that another friend died last year. Nobody knew what had happened to her. We kept asking others. Yesterday, we learned that she died the Tuesday night before Thanksgiving. Processing that used some emotional currency. Then, watching that NFL game last night, and witnessing what happened to the Bills Safety, Damar Hamlin. I instantly thought, cardiac arrest from how he dropped. When they mentioned he was hit in the chest during the play and I saw the impact, I was absolutely certain, and waited to hear what happened to him. Yes, it’s a violent game. The world is a violent place and yet we play these games. It’s another part of my socialization, playing it as a child, through my teenage years, and then watching it. I admire and appreciate the athleticism and experience vicarious joy when my team wins or the players do well. Hamlin’s injury is a terrible shock and highlights my frustrations with myself and my choices. Regardless, I despise those who try to blame Hamlin’s collapse on COVID-19 vaccinations. They offer no proof. They disgust me.

Then there was the House Speaker drama. Kevin McCarthy did not win. Not surprising to anyone following the buildup. What’s terrible is the impact to House business. None can be done until a Speaker is voted in. The question before us is, will compromise among the GOP factions be achieved so that we can move forward? The last time this happened, I read, was in 1923. Nine votes were required to elect a Speaker that year.

I’ve been swimming in dreams for the last two weeks. Reviewing today’s dreams, I thought, it’s a good thing that I’m not being charged for my dreams. Wouldn’t that be an interesting world? No dreams allowed until you pay the dream tax. That’s the law.

Anyway, as part of that cogitation, The Neurons burst into the morning mental music stream with a Blondie song from 1979, “Dreaming”. Seems to fit. Besides the nocturnal brain action, the energetic music affirms plans, hopes, and efforts — you know, the elements of the real-world dreams which I pursue through writing, plotting, and murder. Oops, not the last. Nobody has been harmed in my RW dreams except my ass and various organs.

Stay pos and test neg. I’m about to murder another cup o’ coffee. Hope good fortune has kick-started your 2023 and you can ride that fortune all year long. Cheers

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Tuesday’s Wandering Thought

They used to tell him, “It’s the thought that counts.” But as everyone knows who thought they won an election, or bought a lottery ticket and didn’t win, believed they were going to win a football game, or thought they had Wordle in two moves, it’s not the thought that counts. It’s the results.

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A Chaos Dream

The dream began with great vibes. Returning home, I was being feted as a hero. I’d just slayed a monster, apparently about the fortieth time that I’d done so. Appreciation for me, and my fame, were growing.

First, there was a question of what to eat. A pot roast was being offered; “What would you like with it, Michael?” an elderly woman asked.

“Well, I like those little potatoes browned with them, along with pearl onions and carrots,” I told her. “That was how Mom made it, how I made it, and how my wife made it.” The word was passed, this is what he wants, this is what he likes.

An invitation came to join a military organization. “You’re a hero,” a woman recruiter told me. “We need heroes. You’re a leader. We need leaders.” My, I was flattered. Yes, I agreed, with little hesitation.

Other recruiters and their recruits arrived. I met recruits brought in by my recruiter. I made friends with one man. He was big as an NFL quarter back, and muscular, but very friendly and easy-going.

More recruiters and recruits arrived. Six groups were formed. After dressing in military green uniforms, we filed into a temporary trailer being used as an office space. There were way too many people in the trailer within short order. They were going to do the swearing-in ceremony here. Alright, I thought, let’s get this done. But then, they started trying to do it simultaneously in different corners, with everyone trying to speak above everyone else. The recruiters had also made name plates. They revealed that they’d ‘manufactured’ them by removing door and desk plates and writing on the back of those. The recruiters that this was funny in a sad, pathetic way.

Growing irritated, I was having second thoughts about joining. Who would want to join such chaos? Not me. But I also thought I could take charge and create order out of the chaos. So, I began making suggestions to improve. Why don’t the six groups do their ceremony one at a time? Give each group a number. Do it sequentially.

The recruiters close to me liked that idea, but it had to be communicated with the other recruiters across the room. I told them, “Just tell everyone to be quiet. Use your command voice.”

As that was agreed, a recruiter shouted for quiet. My big friend walked off, head and shoulders above the room. My recruiter came to me and asked if I was friends with him. Yes, I answered. “Did he use to be a football player?” she asked. Yes, I affirmed, he was.

She nodded. The dream ended.

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Another Flash Dream

Recent dreams — or memories of them (probably more likely) — have taken on a flash story aspect. They’re short. Concise.

I dreamed of football again. American football, playing it. My team was a ragtag group of friend. Male and female. We had no uniforms. The rules were a little weirder, too. Our playing field was a funnel about ten feet wide.

The dream initiated me to the middle of the action. I’d been put into the lineup. Others doubted me and my role. Why me and not others? I heard their doubt. Shared it myself. I resolved to impress everyone. Show them wrong.

My team was down. Time was running out. Rain was falling. Desperation hung over us. We needed a first down. The ball was thrown to me. I caught it and ran down the field. Got almost to the goal line before I was brought down. Everyone responded, “That was Seidel?” Yes, it was me.

We huddled. I put forward an idea for one of the women to carry the ball. The rest of us would block. Straightforward power run. That idea was rejected. Something else installed. The results was a shambles. I made my pitch again. I was more forceful. This time, others agreed.

We ran the play. She was not going to score. I ran back and pushed her forward, gathering others to help me. We scored as time expired.

Did we win? We thoughts so. The larger question was, were we advancing to the playoffs? Other games remained in progress. Rain fell harder. We stood as a team, awaiting word. We were told, our record was either oh and three — no wins and three losses — or three and three — or six and three. We didn’t understand. It depended on others, we were told. Wait.

Dream end.

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Monday’s Meatballs

  1. My wife is feeling guilty. I’m a Pittsburgh Steelers fan. Because I live in Oregon now, I’ve also adopted the Seattle Seahawks to watch. That’s mostly because their games are frequently broadcast in the area (wonder why…). Anyway, back when Russ was cooking and the Steelers were 11-0, my wife started cheering for the two teams. Everything went downhill from there… She blames herself. Doesn’t help that she’s also a Patrick Mahomes fan. She was cheering for him. Then yesterday, during the playoffs, he hits the ground and is concussed and out. Yes, she blames herself. Says its bad luck for her to cheer for any team or person. Hmmm…maybe she should stop rooting for me to get published…
  2. Got a message from a FB friend. I didn’t know the name. Message just said, “Hi.” I thought, bull; you’re not my friend. I checked their FB page. Nothing there, you know, except a photo who I think is Paul Hollywood from a few years ago.
  3. We’ve been receiving spates of calls from our area code. They’re numbers that we don’t recognize. From years of conditioning, we don’t answer the phone unless we know the number. Going further, I’ve assigned family members specific ringtones so I know it’s them when the phone rings. When we check out these numbers doing reverse look up, they often turn out to be foreign numbers. They seem to be linked to a new scam going around.
  4. It seems like there’s a new scam on the phone, net, or in politics every week.
  5. Speaking of politics, I’m not going to write about it. I’m weary of this mess that’s arisen in the U.S. with normal people believing outlandish things. Then there’s the things that outlandish people believe. They really stretch sanity’s perimeters. I think such people are searching for a force to give their lives meaning. I do the same with my writing (and posting). It’s a structure for my existence; I wouldn’t be surprised if their deep hold on crazy ideas and its supporting community (or tribe) isn’t the same for them.
  6. This week’s soup is again the root soup — roasted broccoli, carrots, potatoes, and garlic put into a mushroom broth and simmered with seasoning. Awesome for winter. Just add good bread.
  7. We picked up some VitaCup infused coffee on sale during a ninja shopping venture last week. We’re both surprised how good this turmeric and cinnamon coffee concoction is. It’s become our go-to choice. That’s especially startling for me; I’ve always been a French or Italian roast sort of person, dark with no sugar, cream, milk, etc. I will acknowledge that I was/am a mocha drinker. When I did them, it was four shots of espresso, then add a little chocolate, and steamed milk. Quit doing those; bad for my prostate.
  8. Still averaging twelve miles per day walking, according to Fitbit. I’m dubious.
  9. Over in streamland, we’re enjoying “Snowpiercer” (the series) and “Doom Patrol”. Both are on HBO Max. I especially like “Snowpiercer” as it fleshes out things in better ways than the movie did. I’m a train fan, and this idea appeals to my sci-fi infused imagination.
  10. On WordPress, it always bugs me that when Post comes up on the right, there is a red button that says, “Move to trash”. It’s like they’re making a suggestion about what I’m writing to post, you know?
  11. I’m also watching “The Wire” again. Been years since I’ve seen it but the characters (and actors), storylines, and plots (and twists) all remain clear in memory. I still enjoy it because it has great values and terrific acting. The characters all have sharp human edges and avoid being stereotypes (although McNulty is pretty close to one as a functioning alcoholic who cares), and we care about them all, good people and bad.
  12. Got my coffee (yes, it’s the infused stuff). Time to write like crazy, at least one more time. Almost ready for the characters to put Arsehold into the rearview mirror. Fingers crossed, you know?
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Tuesday’s Theme Music

This is another cat-inspired choice, but also reflects on politics, life, you know…general stuff.

The lines which came to head this AM when cat dealing was, “You’re hot and you’re cold, you’re in and you’re in and you’re out.” Twenty-seven degrees outside, Youngblood (aka Meep, Papa, and the Ginger Blade) was testing a theory that if he came in and stayed two seconds, it’ll magically warm up outside.

With part of that song — Katy Perry, “Hot n Cold” (2008) — already in me, I started reading the latest Trump fiasco. He wants bigger stimulus checks all of a sudden. This after doing jack for months. This after sending in Mnuchen to negotiate with Congressional leaders to deliver the package that he didn’t want to sign, the one with smaller checks, less benefits, and, in Trump’s words, “pork-laden”. But, ahem, your man was in there doing your biddin’. And, ahem, that’s your GOP at work. So, ahem. Ah, hot and cold. He was in and out, as always. Just like his guidance for COVID-19. Wear a mask. Don’t. I never do. But you should. I’m the greatest. Now I’m outta here. Gotta go golf. But I’m always working.

It’s also a good song for NFL teams. Pittsburgh down 24-7, doing nothing, come back to win 28-24. Cold, then hot. Ah, we’re all hot then we’re cold, or cold, then we’re out, in, and then hot. Change is the only constant. You gotta keep up.

Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask, and get vaccinated. Over and out.

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