Back From the Dead

"Don't call it a comeback
I've been here for years
Rockin my peers and puttin suckas in fear"
--Mama Said Knock You Out, LL Cool J

Back to work yesterday after a well-deserved vacation. It's amazing how long a week can feel when you go from working 70 hours (as I did from 8/15-8/21) to just 14 (so it wasn't a total vacation--I volunteered on a Michael Strahan project Monday and had baseball on Saturday). Coming back to the office yesterday, it really felt like I had been gone a month. The other strange part of yesterday was that it was our first day in a new office building. The old trailer we were in is being torn down so a new gigantic building can be erected in its place, complete with an employee gym and (hopefully) a permanent space for the Best Damn Sports Show Period.
I like the new space, but it was kind of like the first day of college as we all came in yesterday morning. Everyone walking around, getting the lay of the land, jockeying for position in the offices (I have a nice roomy corner spot with a new computer and everything) and re-establishing a comfort level. The main difference is the lack of good-looking chicks--that's an advantage UCLA will forever hold over Fox, at least this area.
So here are a few things I learned on my week off:

1) Rainbow sandals are very cool.
I visited the factory on Wednesday afternoon with the intent of purchasing a pair for a friend of mine and ended up buying a pair for myself as well. My first pair (and my initial crossing of the Reefs line) came as a groomsman gift in March and I have worn them almost exclusively since then (on occasions when sandals are permitted, mind you). The factory store is perhaps the most laid back place on the planet, which only enhances the image of the footwear. Two guys in the office, sitting around and eating, laughing, not looking at all like employees and not giving the room any sort of checkout-type appearance. I hold my two pairs and look at one of the guys, who refers me to the other, who proceeds to refer me right back to the first guy. The epitome of laziness. They were both eating and neither wanted to interrupt their grub to make a sale. Again, only enhancing the image of the footwear. Evidently people come from far and wide to buy these bad boys, so I'm privileged to be a part of the phenomenon.
2) Married dudes still play video games.
I stayed with Mike B and his wife Suzy for three days down in San Clemente and had a lovely, relaxing time. Thursday night Suzy was gone, so he and I went to a movie, ordered some pizza, watched the end of the Dodger game and played some Halo. We started around 7 and beat the entire game, which meant we were playing past 3 a.m. Those are things you can only do on vacation, because under normal circumstances I would be awakening just two hours later and that would not go over well. I'm glad B can still do the video game thing on occasion.
3) Contrary to popular belief, it is still possible for me to sleep in.
I honestly haven't slept in past nine o'clock since last calendar year--maybe Christmas?--but this vacation week gave me a chance to do just that. My normal wake-up times are 5 a.m. (Monday through Friday--work out before work) and 8 a.m. (Saturday and Sunday--baseball and church, respectively), but the three days I spent down in San Clemente carried with them no such obligations. Of course, going to sleep well after 3 will also contribute to a late wake-up time. Rolling out of bed around 11 brought with it a wonderful feeling, one I hope to experience at least once more before the new year rings in.
4) I can still play the guitar.
Along with sleeping in, one of the unfortunate casualties of 60-plus-hour work weeks has been my passion for writing and playing music, but again, the vacation week provided some restoration. I spent the better part of three different afternoons playing and singing and goofing around with new songs, and actually wrote a full song for the first time in months. B and I got to jam on Thursday, which was quite fulfilling.
5) I definitely don't enjoy the Olympics as much as I used to.
Maybe it's a jaded sense that comes with age, but I didn't care at all about the Athens games in the weeks and months leading up to them, and there were only a few times that I even watched any of the events at all. On the Saturdays I've worked baseball, we usually have a couple different feeds up (CBC (Canada), NBC, CNBC, MSNBC), and my co-worker Kristin loves them, so I'll watch a little bit here and there. B and his wife watched them a lot, so I saw some random events with them as well, and I had him TiVo the USA-Spain basketball game so I could watch it early Thursday, but I definitely didn't care about the result as much as I thought I would. Women's beach volleyball didn't suck though.
6) As much as I love my job, vacation is a wonderful thing.
That one's pretty self-explanatory.

Vinny Testaverde is 97 years old and he can still throw darts. For most of the first half (until Keith Bulluck's nice pick), Vinny was doing whatever he wanted with that Titans defense. Keyshawn was open on pretty much every play, Bryant and Glenn each made a couple nice catches, and Witten and Campbell both made plays as well. If they can get even 3.5 yards per carry out of Eddie George and Julius Jones, this squad is actually going to be better than last year, which seems hard to believe. 10 wins was a huge overachieving success a year ago and Parcells historically does even better in year number two, so we'll see.
On that note, Phil and I have a Cowboys franchise going on Madden and we're a very satisfactory 2-0 after two weeks. Week one carried with it perhaps the greatest video game moment in my life, something I was excited to share with Phil and two other friends, Garett and Colby.
Battling the Vikings in the Metrodome, our crackhead quarterback (Quincy is still on the roster) hit Keyshawn for the go-ahead touchdown with less than two minutes left. I was quite proud of the drive, a two-and-a-half minute, run-and-pass mixed work of art. Of course, Minnesota did still have Randy Moss, who had been held quiet by Terence Newman and Roy Williams up to that point. Daunte hit Moss on an out pattern, Phil switched players and dove, and Randy was free to take off down the sidelines on a 60-yard jaunt. So we're down three with under a minute to play, which isn't exactly the dream situation for our man Quincy and the Mo Carthon ball-control offense. I hit Keyshawn on a corner route to get us to the 40, then proceed to throw three incompletions trying to go deep downfield, which was the only path to success at this point. This brings us to fourth down, :03 showing on the clock, down to our last chance. Phil and I are nervous--we don't want to start this whole dynasty thing off with a loss--and my friends Garett and Colby are standing on the couch in anticipation. Hail Mary is the call, I'm looking at either Terry Glenn or Antonio Bryant, both of whom are substantially faster than Keyshawn. I pump-fake just for fun, but it freezes Brian Russell, the Vikes' free safety who's coming over to help on Glenn. Spying an opening, I hope Quincy's arm can handle it and toss it in Glenn's direction. Over the corner's hands it drops in softly to my man Terry, who gets hit by Brian Russell at the three, but unlike Kevin Dyson circa 1999, T-Glenn managed to dive into the end zone as he was tackled (Dyson, who was stopped by Mike Jones at the goal line in SB XXXIV, is currently one of the best receivers on an atrocious Charger roster). Needless to say, madness ensued. We jumped up and down, high-fiving like we had won a real football game. The euphoria took a while to wear off, frankly, and it was a good feeling, no doubt.
Hopefully game three takes place sometime this week, I'm looking forward to it. Work time.

My Own Top 10

"You know all the right people
You play all the right games
You always try to be
Everything to everyone"
--Everything to Everyone, Everclear

I was sufficiently inspired at the gym this morning by the sheer number of characters that walk in and out of that place on a daily basis. I'm only fortunate enough to see the 6-7:30 a.m. crowd, so I can't imagine the experience of working an entire day at a place like that. A little background here: I work out mornings at the 24-Hour Fitness on Pico, just a few blocks east of the Fox lot, which is quite convenient. I've belonged to two other gyms in the past--the YMCA in La Canada and the 24-Hour in Manhattan Beach--and neither come close to this one in character depth and quirkiness. With no further ado, I present my top ten characters at the gym:
10. Bad Spotter Guy
Since I work out by myself, pretty much tuning everyone and everything else out with my mp3 player, I occasionally do need a spot to complete that last difficult set of bench or whatever. It's not often that I'll call on somebody for assistance (more because I'm lazy than because I can lift a lot), but when I do, some discretion is very necessary. Bad Spotter Guy was enlisted once to help me (and I've seen him do it multiple times since) and I'm assuming that he has ADD, because there was no spotting going on whatsoever. He's talking to people walking by, bouncing up and down above my head, singing along to the music, doing anything and everything but helping me. After popping a few blood vessels in my head trying to knock out the final rep, I disgustedly returned the bar and thanked him for nothing. It's common courtesy, something everybody does for everyone else, but unfortunately, some guys just don't get it.
9. Kung-Fu-in-the-Dark Guy
The pathway from the locker room to the upper level of the gym itself takes one on an aerial tour of the racquetball and basketball courts, allowing for a bird's-eye view of the sports taking place therein. Normally it's a brotha casting up treys and missing badly or three or four old guys doing their best raquetball impression. Every couple of days I get an interesting surprise, however. The lights are out and there's a dude down there going through his Mr. Miyagi routine, with nobody else around and with no concept of his surroundings. Frankly, it's captivating. The guy has a long pony tail and looks like he might be American Indian, which sort of adds to the aura and mystique.
8. Oldy McBluehair
I really hope that when I'm old, I'll have the ability to go to the gym everyday. However, being able to go to the gym and actually going to the gym are two very different things. I have nothing against the elderly (most of them, anyway), but there are a few that really don't belong in this setting. There's one in particular who looks like he's about to pass out during every repetition, no matter the exercise. There have been numerous times where I'm just waiting for his arm to snap off during a curl or for his knee to pop out during a squat. Again, it's admirable to some degree, but it's a scary sight.
7. Bad Form Guy
There are multiple elements to this guy's charm: 1) he tries way too much weight; 2) he goes way too fast; and 3) he makes way too much noise in the process. Some people really do need to consult a professional (as many of the machines advise) before beginning a workout program. This guy, though he's much younger than Oldy McBluehair, also looks like he's about to lose a limb or a joint during his herky-jerky, grunt-emitting lifting sessions. One can't help but notice him, even when one's headphones are turned way up and one is lifting at the opposite end of the room. This guy is evidently practicing for his women's tennis soundtrack audition later this month.
6. "Hey Guy" Guy
There's always someone walking around saying hello to everyone, asking about everything, talking about everything in his own life, but I don't think he really knows any of these people at all. Other people's names never come out of his mouth; it's just "Guy" and "Bro" and "Chief." I don't like those names. I'm Scott, thanks. "Man" and "My Friend" don't work. "Sport" and "Buddy" are even less effective. It's nice to feel like you have some community there, I'm sure, but there's no need to pretend you know everyone and really care about everyone's deal. It's hard enough focusing on working out when there's good-looking girls around, which brings me to...
5. Hot Girl
Every gym has at least one, and unfortunately, during my shift, there is just one. But she is quite hot. Today marked the first time I've seen her outside the gym (just driving her car, but outside nonetheless) and she's definitely still hot. It's a fortunate break from all the testosterone and excessive maleness to have somebody to check out every once in a while. Fortunately, she utilizes quite a few of the same apparatii as I, so the sight lines are often quite clear. Mirrors are also a beneficial thing when attempting to look at a girl without being obvious, and the whole room is surrounded by them (and includes numerous mid-room mirrors as well), so I'm golden. I would ask her out--I've thought about it a few times--but I really think I want to preserve the purity of her being the hot girl at the gym. If we went out and it didn't work out, there wouldn't be any worthwhile distractions anymore, and I couldn't have that.
4. Poor Attire Selection Chick
This is my euphemistic way of referring to the girl who's a little on the portly side (or maybe a lot) and dresses like she's Kate Moss (or fill in the skinny celebrity of your choice). I don't know the female psyche well enough to completely understand this, but why would you want to work out looking like that? Maybe it's an incentive to keep going? I certainly don't want to be insensitive about this, because I know plenty of people who struggle with their weight, but it should just be a common courtesy thing, right? Too many times I catch something I definitely don't need to see with an accidental glance or a turn of the head. It shouldn't have to be my responsibility to avoid such unfortunate occurrences, that's all.
3. Worst Personal Trainer Ever Guy
This guy makes me laugh because he's in worse shape than the people he's working out. If you're going to be a personal trainer, at least invest a little time in your own physical fitness. There are three dudes who train while I'm there, and no fewer than two of them are obviously overweight--one I might even call obese. That's not okay. I don't go to personal trainers, but if I were to screen them, looks would have to be a huge factor. That's what we're going for here, right? Bulk and tone and all of that? I'm trying to think of a parallel in the professional world--maybe a financial advisor who's telling you to buy Google while he's still waiting for Enron to rebound in his own portfolio. Or a college counselor who dropped out of high school back in the day. It doesn't work. If I'm looking for someone to help get me physically fit, I just want some visible proof that you know what you're talking about, that's all.
2. Inappropropriate Lyrics Guy
Hilarious. And totally inappropriate. This guy makes up words to the songs that play in the locker room, singing them along (to himself and anyone that will listen) and then carries on conversations with himself using similar verbiage during breaks. He makes me laugh, but it's kinda sad. Here's an example of what I'm talking about: He sings this refrain to Jet's "Be My Girl" -- "Are you gonna be my slut?" Over and over. Then he starts talking to his slut when the song is over. So weird. "Let's Get it Started" becomes "Don't get me started" and then he explains what he shouldn't get started about in the aftermath. Amazing as it may seem, this is the same guy as...
1. Smooth Operator
Again a euphemism. This dude shaves his entire body every single day in that locker room. It's not normal. He takes one of those disposable Bics and starts sometime before 6 ('cause he's going when I arrive) and is still going at 7 (because that's when I get back in there after the workout) and he's still going at 7:30 (because that's when I leave). Nakedness is one thing--it's an obvious necessity in a shower setting--but he definitely takes it to the extreme. Hours and hours of it. Oh yeah, and his cologne (?) smells like orange tic tacs, no joke. I have no idea where you get something like that. Maybe at the Wonka factory? This guy truly has to be seen to be believed--he's starting to enter the Harv- Do Jun realm of unexplainable people. It's a tough list to crack, but he's got the credentials.
We're done.
So we get an e-mail with birthdays and anniversaries of famous events in sports every day and today is the nine-year anniversary of Mike Tyson's knockout of "Hurricane" Peter McNeely in Vegas after just 89 seconds. I'm laughing recalling McNeeley's New England accent promising to put Tyson in his "cocoon of horrah"--that's "horror" in Chowd-speak.
On another note, it's also the birthday of poet Ogden Nash. He died in 1971, but he would have been 102 today. Not exactly a household name, I know, but a solid poet nonetheless. Here are a few of my favorites:
"A jolly young fellow from Yuma
Told an elephant joke to a puma.
Now his skeleton lies
Under hot western skies.
The puma had no sense of huma."
...
"Candy is dandy;
But liquor is quicker."
...
"I think that I shall never see
A billboard lovely as a tree;
Indeed, unless the billboards fall
I'll never see a tree at all"
...
"Too clever is dumb."
...
By the way, the reason I know it's his birthday is that they told me on 91.5 this morning. That's classical music. That's KUSC. Does it make me a bad Bruin if I listen to KUSC? Classical is a nice way to ease into my mornings, and they are commercial-free (thanks to their listeners and the University of Southern California, home of the Keck School of Medicine), so I'm over any conflicts of interest the name might provide. Off to work.

What Are They Thinking?

"And now I know there are no secret tricks, no correct politics
Just liars and lunatics"
--Homesick, Soul Asylum

Okay, so I know soccer isn't the most popular sport in America, but there are still supposedly a number of folks here in the states who are well-qualified to run franchises in MLS--or so I thought.
Sigi Schmid was fired this week as head coach of the Los Angeles Galaxy. This struck a personal chord with me because he was formerly the head man at UCLA, coaching all my friends while I was there (many of whom I had the privilege of seeing over the weekend at my old roommate Kevin's wedding). This also resonated because of the incredible level of stupidity shown by the Galaxy front office in making this move.
According to MLSNet.com, this is only the third time in North American major professional sports history (yes, soccer is considered major) that the head coach of a first-place team has been fired mid-season. L.A. currently occupies the top spot in the entire league, which makes the decision particularly puzzling, but what's even more confusing is the success Schmid has enjoyed in years past. Neither of the two previous members of the first-place-fired list had won anything substantial in their careers to that point. Schmid's Galaxy won the MLS Cup two years ago and has appeared in the title game in three of his four seasons at the helm. They've also won the CONCACAF Champion's Cup and the U.S. Open Cup at various points since Schmid took over in 1999. Last year's shock first-round loss to San Jose was an aberration, but even if General Manager Doug Hamilton felt like the team was under-performing, he should have made a move after the playoff loss rather than in the middle of another first-place season.
Recent NBA fires that didn't make sense like Rick Carlisle (after two 50-win seasons in Detroit) and Byron Scott (after two straight trips to the NBA Finals) had different twists attached to them (Larry Brown's availability and Jason Kidd's inability to get along with his coach, respectively). Things ended up fine for Detroit, obviously, and it looks like New Jersey is headed down a different, cost-cutting road now anyway.
So yeah, the move makes sense if you've got a guy like Larry Brown waiting in the wings. Who did the Galaxy find to fill this void? How about this resume: He led the United States to its worst-ever showing at the World Cup, alienating his veteran players in the process. He then headed to Costa Rica, where he coached the national team there to no success whatsoever. Steve Sampson is his name. Bad coaching is his game. Good call, guys.
So yeah, I'm a little bitter about the decision, if only because it probably means less playing time for Sigi's golden boy--my old roommate Sasha. But it will honestly be hard to root for a team coached by that moron Sampson. Scott Bright might do a better job.
A team I won't stop rooting for, no matter the peril, is those San Diego Padres, who keeping scrapping their way to contention for that NL Wild Card. They sit just a half-game behind the Giants (with three fewer games played) heading into tonight's series finale with the Braves down at Petco. They absolutely pounded former Pad Jaret Wright last night (homers from Giles and Nevin helping give Jake Peavy win number nine) and will hopefully be providing some more offense this evening.
Too much soccer for one evening, probably. Sorry to those who are offended by such things. To those who aren't, one more note: Brian Ching's 89th-minute equalizer earned the U.S. a 1-1 draw at Jamaica tonight, a nice point on the road in World Cup qualifying. We'll take it.
A few more things to take care of before taking off from work tonight. Peace.

Recreation

"My Every Morning Is In Every Way
The Beginning Of A Recreation Day"
--Recreation Day, Evergrey

My life is not quite that recreational--I only wish that every morning would bring with it the promise of such free time--but tonight marks another installment in the only regular athletic competition that occupies my otherwise television-heavy schedule. For those heretofore unaware, I play on a rec league basketball team with my bro and several guys from work. Two other guys on the team (both of whom won't be in attendance tonight) are friends of the team captain and fill out the roster when needed.
It's definitely a good time, the only semi-competitive entity I've been involved in since intramurals in college (which was a fairly awful situation, frankly). I can't count the Mormon league that Brad Swenson signed me up for, a bunch of old dudes and notable exceptions Brent Ballard and Andrew Scott. I'd include Todd Reynolds and Jim Evans in that list, but their games have certainly become "old man" in nature, so they're out. I actually kinda miss that league, just not the late-night drives home.
So back to our Westwood Rec League, where we've advanced to the semifinals without having to play a game. Last night's quarterfinal matchup with Arn's Army (featuring UCLA alum Bob Myers and some cat who doesn't ever miss) ended up being a forfeit, because not a single soul on their squad bothered to show up. I know we're an intimidating bunch, but that's kind of ridiculous. Why would you play an entire season (10 games, a solid two-and-a-half month investment) and then just brush off the playoffs? Nonsensical.
Regardless, we're into the Final Four and have just a meeting with Jim Williamson-led "D3" in between us and a berth in the championship game. The most talented team in the league (one that beat us by seven in overtime a week ago) lost their game yesterday, so we've definitely got a shot at winning this whole thing. A lot has to happen in our favor, not the least of which is a somewhat consistent three-point stroke from yours truly.
The past two weeks are a good example of inconsistency in that regard: I went 0-for-9 from downtwon two weeks ago, but took it to the whole well (probably still managed about 20 points) in a convincing victory. Started incredibly hot this past Monday (11 points, including three treys in the game's first two minutes), and ended up hitting seven or eight from downtown in that tough OT loss. I did some Charlie drills yesterday during our scheduled game time (turned into an intrasquad two-on-two session), so hopefully I'll be ready to go.
Win or lose, it's been a fun season; getting to play with Michael has been especially enjoyable, particularly when we're both playing well. I won't complain about getting Monday nights back, however, because when we're playing at 9:15 (as is the case tonight), I certainly don't wake up easily the next morning at 5. It's painful.
Last thought before heading out to pre-game activities: I have vacation next week. Wow does it feel good to say that. No work, a week's pay, no vacation time taken away. It doesn't get any better. Makes these last four work days very manageable. And this late-night basketball game as well. Peace.

Trade Talk

"Girl I'd trade it all, money, cars and everything
All, even give up my street dream
All, anything to have you on my team"
--Trade It All, Fabolous

In the latest chapter of what has been a crazy NBA off-season, Antoine Walker got shipped out to Atlanta yesterday, along with Tony Delk for Jason Terry and Alan Henderson. 'Toine almost qualifies as a journeyman now, poor guy, and Delk definitely fits that bill--Charlotte, Golden State, Sacramento, Phoenix, Boston, Dallas and now Atlanta. Jim Jackson, watch out.
I'm sure Mark Cuban's not done tinkering with this squad, as he's already dealt Antawn Jamison this off-season (for Christian Laettner, Jerry Stackhouse and a No. 1--turned out to be Devin Harris) and was active last year at this time as well. He's the NBA equivalent of Dan Snyder, needing to mess with his roster all the time, never content with the array iff All-Stars he's assembled.
Looking at the Mavs roster at this very moment (and I'm sure it will change again before the season starts), they have actually assembled a pretty good combination of veteran stars and young talent. Marquis Daniels and Josh Howard were both impressive as rookies last year and now Harris, 7-5 Russian Pavel Podkolzin, guard Luis Flores and 7-footer Didier Ilunga-Mbenga infuse some more youthful exuberance into the mix. Though Steve Nash is gone, Dirk and Finley return, as do Shawn Bradley and Eduardo Najera. There's a lot of depth here, probably more than any team in the league.
Another Western Conference squad that will obviously look quite different come training camp is my beloved Lakers, entering the post-Shaq era. It was weird watching the Olympic team's Italian debacle the other day, realizing that Lamar Odom is a Laker. I kind of liked the feeling though. He hasn't played tremendously in those exhibitions, but I love his game and I think (hope) he'll mesh well with Kobe. Read a rumor today that might catapult the Show to the top of the league once again: Jason Kidd might be headed to La-La Land. Yup.
Since his Nets traded K-Mart, Kidd's been requesting a trade, and he won't go just anywhere; he told Rod Thorn that he'd only go to one of the top Western Conference teams. One thing that does is re-stir the Tony Parker-for-Kidd talk that dominated last off-season and sent the little Frenchy into a funk (from which he recovered just in time to go back into another funk when the Lakers came back and won that second-round series).
If he went to L.A., it would be in exchange for Rick Fox and Gary Payton (expiring contracts) and either Caron Butler or Kareem Rush (young talent), which would be a small price to pay if Kidd's healthy. I can't even fathom how sick that backcourt would be--Kobe and J-Kidd? There would have to be laws against this kind of combination. If Mailman returns (and at this point, that's a big if), the lineup would be as follows:
G Kidd
G Kobe
F Odom
F Malone
C Divac
With Brian Grant, Butler or Rush, Luuuuuuke and the rookie Vujacic providing solid bench support. I'm thinking it might not be so hard to fall in love with the Lakers all over again.
Sure, Detroit will be back and will be favored to win the East again, but who in the West could compete with this squad?
Team San Antonio Sacramento Minnesota Denver Houston
Point Parker Bibby Cassell Miller Big ?? (Mark Jackson)
2-Guard Barry Christie Hassell Voshon T-Mac
3-Forward Bowen Peja Spree 'Melo Jim Jackson
4-Forward Duncan C-Webb KG K-Mart Juwon
Center Rasho Miller Ervin/Kandi Camby Yao
There are some pretty good lineups here (though obviously no backcourts that compare), but depth will be a big thing, and none of these squads have near the bench help the Lakers would. Hope it works.
Good week. Saw "The Terminal" last night--for free--and was definitely entertained. Tom Hanks does not make bad movies, I don't think. Thought to write about for tomorrow: his best and worst. Plus all those things I've been meaning to blog. Too many to think about now. Out.

USA Oops?

"And I hope you'll find your way again
And it won't get any higher
But it all boils down to what you did there
Disappointment"
--Disappointment, The Cranberries

Are you kidding me with that effort yesterday? How bad did the USA look in that debacle against Italy. Italy! Not Serbia or Argentina or one of the top international squads, but second-tier Italy. This isn't soccer, folks, come on now. Roberto Baggio isn't dunking on anybody. Paolo Maldini can't run a pick-and-roll. This is our sport, our best (??) players and, supposedly, our gold medal. Not so fast.
The Americans bungled their way to a 95-78 defeat at the hands of these Italianos, giving up countless open three-pointers and failing to make any dent from the perimeter themselves. The loss of Vince Carter and Tracy McGrady from the squad and the failure to include someone like Milwaukee's Michael Redd has proved quite harmful to this team, and a whole lot needs to change in the next ten days or we'll be out of medal contention in no time.
Today's matchup with Dirk and Germany will hopefully provide some redemption, but another loss will make for some unsteady sailing from here on out.
We're airing a piece on the show today from Magic Johnson's charity all-star game on Sunday, an event I had the privelege of attending as a producer. It was awesome; I felt quite powerful with my All-Access Pass, talking to celebrities and athletes, schmoozing my way past security to get our camera crew where we needed to go and having a tremendous time. Maurice Clarett, Bill Bellamy, Lisa Leslie, some guy from G-Unit, lots of peeps. We got to talk to every basketball player out there--Paul Pierce, Antoine Walker, Gilbert Arenas and Drew Gooden to name a few (they call Drew Gooden "Doc," in honor of his unrelated namesake Dwight--pretty sweet). A bunch of the rookies were there too--high schoolers J.R. Smith and Robert Swift, and college boys Chris Duhon, Desmon Farmer, Kirk Snyder, Devin Harris and Bruin T.J. Cummings. I think Snyder and Smith are both going to be sweet this year. Swift has some talent, but man, even though he's seven feet tall, he looks like he should still be in high school. He might struggle.
We got to mic up Steve Harvey for the second half of the game (he was coaching the rookie team against Magic's veteran squad) and he was absolutely hilarious--dancing, talking trash to Magic and his team, getting on the officials. Our talent, a comedian named Alex Thomas, was a lot of fun to hang out with as well--he knew everybody in the building, which made our job a lot easier.
Won our basketball game Monday night, improving to 5-4 on the campaign and qualifying for the playoffs. We're 0-1 in the games I've missed (0-2 if you count the game in which I was hurt and had to sit out the majority), so the record might be a bit misleading. Not having shot a ball in two weeks--since the eye injury--I struggled mightily from the perimeter all game long (probably 0-for-9 from downtown), but I took the ball to the hole with authority, knocked down my free throws, and probably ended up with about 20. Next week is the last regular season game, against an all-brotha squad called Capital Select, and then the post-season begins. I'm gonna miss that league when we're done.
Just found out yesterday that I get an entire week of paid vacation at the end of August. The show is dark, so I already knew it would be a more relaxed environment, but evidently we're moving offices and there won't be "any available workspace," so we're all off. So solid. I hope to be spending the duration of the break on the sand at the Bautistas' newly-completed beach house down by Dana Point. Jason and I went down there last Sunday for lunch after B preached and it's amazing. Can't wait.
I'm realizing at this point that I still haven't completed that movie list--two more still to go. Oh well, I'll continue building suspense. Or something like that. Speaking of movies, I actually saw three in the last week or so, more than my total for the previous six months, I think. "The Village" was the most recent and it was actually pretty good. I'm a fan of M.Night (yes, even "Unbreakable") and he did a great job again with this one. He always makes you think.
I think I need to start my work day. Peace.