He he he!

Krishni can tell you this:  I giggle a lot.  Maybe it's my obsession with Disney World but I try to keep a little whimsy in my life.  Krishni and I had a good guffaw when I watched Enchanted for the 1st time; I pointed out to her that that she was clearly the Patrick Dempsey character in the movie and I was clearly the Amy Adams character.

That's me on the left

To be fair:  of the two of us, I am far, far more likely to tell a cancer joke; but I do have a much more whimsical view of the world than she does.  And if that means that I get so excited about certain activities that I showcase a mile-wide smile and giggle uncontrollably, so be it. 

There are 5 scheduled days in each calendar year that require giggling:

1)  Opening Day
2)  Thanksgiving
3)  My fantasy baseball draft (I'm cool)
4)  My Brithday
5)  The NBA Draft

Opening day needs no explanation:  Brad and I start drinking beer at dawn, we eat fatty foods and watch baseball in the cold.  Te-hee!

Thanksgiving is hands-down the best-est of all holidays.  Thanksgiving is all about stuffing a turkey, stuffing me and hanging with the family by the fire.  What could be better?

My fantasy baseball draft involves pizza, wine and poor decisions around the 23rd round.  Krishni enjoys this day on a much different level than I do...she still thinks it's cute.  However, this day, sometime far in the future, will also be known as "The day Mike's wife finally realizes what a loser Mike is and packs a bag and slips out forever without her husband noticing because he's staring at his computer screen and deciding whether its a good idea to draft a closer in the 12th round or wait until the 18th.  While giggling."

It will be a very sad day. 

My birthday kicks ass because I've never had a problem planning my own birthday party.  Why not plan a day celebrating me where my friends buy me drinks?  The better question is:  why don't all of you do this?

Which brings me to the NBA Draft. 

For those not in the know, every year most of the best college basketball players leave school and enter into the NBA draft.  Each June, these players are selected by each NBA franchise in an order roughly determined by the previous years record; typically, the worst teams get the higher picks (meaning 1, 2, 3, etc) and best teams get the lower picks (28, 29, 30, etc).  There are two rounds worth of players picked over the span of about 5 hours. 

The draft is tonight. 

Honestly, I'm not sure what draws me to the NBA Draft.  On the "Mike Jacklich Personal Sports Hierarchy", the Bulls come in 4th behind the Sox (1), Notre Dame Football (2) and The Benet Academy Boys Varsity Basketball Team (3). 

While I love baseball and college football more than I love NBA basketball, I've always, always love the NBA offseason more than any other league's offseason.  Last years was epic:  the free-agent frenzy that centered around LeBron that directly and indirectly affected about half the league when it came to off-season moves and contender statuses will never, ever be topped.  It was so much fun to follow.

This year, we have equal drama:  a potential lock-out and the cancellation of a chunk of the regular season.  Truth be told, I love lock-outs.  I think they are absurd.  Millionaires arguing with billionares over a bigger slice of the pie...it's fun on the oddest of levels.

Back in college, there was a lockout that I followed closely.  It was pretty funny.  The owners quickly learned that most players actually lived paycheck-to-paycheck just like many of us do.  The only difference, of course, is that while I'm trying to decide how to best payoff my two credit card balances that don't total more than $2,000, NBA players were dealing with an entourage, house payments on 3 different properties, 6 car payments, servants, chefs, wives, girlfriends, 1 to 10 kids, family members begging for money, gambling debts, lawsuits, VIP rooms, strip clubs and hookers.  It was a lifestyle that was killing the players.

At some point in the middle of the lockout, the players floated the idea of having a "charity" game for some of the guys that needed cash or for players that were "only" making the league minimum which, at the time, was about $270,000...Patrick Ewing, the Hall of Fame center for the Knicks, was famously quoted as saying--in a tremendously poor attempt to gain public sympathy--"Sure NBA players make a lot of money, but we spend a lot too."  Boo-freakin'-hoo, Pat. 

The Draft tonight is just the 1st part of what I like to call the NBA's silly season.  Why do I love the draft?  Well, it's a bit different this year:  we have a pretty weak draft as far as the quality of the players being drafted.  Because of that and since there is no real consensus on who is going to go where, there should be a ton a trades and GMs across the NBA are going to be trying to unload salary before the lockout.  Chaos is always fun. 

Also, back in college we played what was, in retrospect, a horribly racist drinking game during the broadcast.  Rules included "Drink for players with cornrows" and "Drink 5 if the player hugs a Mom but there is no Dad present" and "Drink 5 when a white guy gets drafted in the top 20, finish your beer if he's picked 1st overall."  It got worse than that, too.  But hey, Bonzer T's Homeskillet is PG-13, remember?

So, tonight I'm going to sit down with some booze, my home-made NBA Draft t-shirt, some fatty foods and a ridiculous smile on my face while I watch the NBA landscape change.

There will be giggling.

Today in Sheer Internet Joy

"After a long, hard day of being crucified, I love to kick back and 

unwind in my Holy La-Z-Boy with a cold, refreshing Budweiser."

--Jesus "H" Christ

Damn it!

Writing this blog is super fun but sometimes these pesky things called "facts" get in the way of my point.  You see, in my zeal to make fun of Cubs fans, I failed to take note of these alleged "facts".  For the record:  the last time the Cubs won the World Series was 1908.  But as my buddy Brad pointed out to me, the last time the Cubs won the pennant was in 1945, making the "Die Hard Night" age cut off a much more manageable 66+.  Part of me wants to say "Sue me", but the truth is, this kind of thing bugs me.  It's doubly frustrating because I just chided a girl from work the other day when she said the Cubs went to the World Series in the 60's.  "No, you dumb tart," I calmly explained, "the last time the Cubs went to the World Series was in 1945 which almost shouldn't count since half the good players were still in Europe and Asia when the Cubbies 'achieved' that feat".

I may be paraphrasing now.  But that was the gist. 

So, gold star to Brad.  If you're a hot chick, ask him out because he can double check facts like a mo-fo.   That's sexy, right?

Let's all point and laugh at the 6' 9" amazingly gifted athlete worth 100 million dollars!

Many folks will tell you that the best baseball movie ever made was "Major League".  Those folks are wrong.  The best baseball movie ever made was "Bull Durham".  That's a scientific fact.  You can look it up.

Anyhow, many folks will still insist on telling you that the best baseball movie ever made was "Major League".  It is a pretty damn funny movie, punctuated by wonderful appearances by former Major League player and current Major League broadcaster Bob Uecker.  Uke plays a hard-drinking, semi-foul mouthed caricature of himself throughout the film.

 Pictured:  My dream job.  With bourbon!

At one point, he tells fans of a new promotion coming up for the Indians:

"Just a reminder, fans, comin' up is our 'Die-hard Night' here at the stadium. Free admission to anyone who was actually alive the last time the Indians won a pennant."

For some context, the last time the Indians had gone to the World Series--at the time of the movie shoot--was 1954.  The movie was made in 1989.  Pretty funny line, but not that big a deal, right?

Now consider this:  if the Cubs held a "Die Hard" night at Wrigley Field, any fans taking the Cubs up on this offer would be 103 years old. At least.

Now, I don't bring this up to rub salt in Cub's fans wounds.  I could do that rather easily if I wanted to.  Ok, ok...I want to:

 

No, I bring this up to illustrate a rather clever promotion that a Cubs minor league affiliate--the Peoria Chiefs--have launched called "LeBron James NBA Championship Replica Ring Giveaway night".  I gotta hand it to the promotional department down in Peoria:  this promotion is genius.  The idea is they are giving away the same ring that LeBron James "won" the other night.  Or as the article put it, "Replica rings -- also known as air".  Other activities scheduled for the evening:  "A fan will win a 'replica' of James' Finals MVP award (which actually went to the Mavericks' Dirk Nowitzki), and Heimlich maneuver classes will be offered to help prevent people from 'choking in a big situation.' "  They are also attempting to get league approval to not play the 4th inning. 

Not gonna lie:  I kinda want to go. 

LeBron's fall from super-stud status has been well documented*:  From the horrible, horrible call by his people to hold "The Decision" (his free agent announcement special) on ESPN to that godawful "Pre-Championship Celebration" they held before the season where LeBron implied they were going to win 8 championships...ugh.  Then all the old-school guys like Jordan and Barkley and Magic pretty much came out and questioned his manhood, saying they never, ever would have left their home team to join up with another top-3 player...these guys wanted to crush the best, not join up with the best.  Then come the playoffs where he dominated for the 1st 3 rounds only to completely and utterly wilt under the hot lights of the playoffs, disappearing in the 4th quarter of the last 5 finals games, ultimately losing 4 games to 2 to the Dallas Mavericks.

Let's just say it's been a tough year for LeBron James.

Now, I don't make millions of dollars playing basketball.  Yet.  Nor do I talk about basketball for a living.  And sometimes I'm so shitfaced on the couch, I can't tell if the bucket that was just scored was a black guy dunking or a white guy lay-up.  All of this is besides the point.  I know enough about basketball to see when a guy who has the physical gifts to be the best player of all time chokes in a big situation.  Or, in the case of the man nicknamed "King", chokes in 5 straight big situations. 

I'm not entirely sure he deserved all of the hate he got this year.  He really just made a career decision that any of us would have made.  However, it was the way he made all of these decisions that really rubbed folks the wrong way.  Between "the Decision" and that pre-season celebration and the way that he always seems to be just coasting through games instead of dominating the way we all know he can...in a word, he was arrogant.  And because of that arrogance, he polarized the country in a way I've never seen with an athlete.  Unless you were from Miami, every basketball fan wanted--nay, needed--the guy to lose.  I mean, come on:  he forced me cheer for a team from Texas.  I don't think I've ever done that.  Even back in 1836 I'm pretty sure I was pulling for the Mexicans**.

If you're feeling bad for the guy, don't worry, kids.  LeBron will get his rings.  And he will continue to go to sleep on top a pile of money, with many beautiful ladies. 

But for all us fans that reveled in this loss, even if it meant we had to cheer on a team from freakin' Texas, we will always have the fragile, shattered and suddenly-filled-with-humility LeBron James to keep us warm until next season:

Sad Panda

*Dude jumped ship from the Cleveland Cavaliers (his home town) to join up with another "Top 3" player named Dewayne Wade and another All-Star named Chris Bosh...screwing his home town team and pinning a ginormous target on his back at which the rest of the league would take aim.

** Incidentally, I did a quick google search to double check that date and found the official Alamo website.  There is a pretty funny video that plays at the top of the screen for about 5 seconds when you get to the page that is by far the worst historical re-enactment I've ever seen.  It's no wonder the Texans lost...they just sort of fell down when the Mexicans pushed them.  You can keep refreshing the page as long as it continues to be funny. 

Today in Sheer Internet Joy

I could not take my eyes off this video, even if the recipe was not at all for me.  I can not recommend watching the whole thing enough but highlights at 4:12, garlic cutting at 6:35, tomato chopping at 9:53, and, of course, the summoning of the most important ingredient of all, at 12:50. 

I always knew Sam Adams was the right beer for me...

My wife is wildly entertained by the random grudges I hold.  Sometimes--even with the tiniest of slights--I have trouble letting go of the grudge I manage to create.  I am also willing to admit that sometimes I hold onto the silly grudges just because they are fun.

For instance, I haven't eaten at a Jimmy Johns since a stoner "sandwich artist" yelled "WE DON'T HAVE MEATBALLS AT JIMMY JOHNS!" at me a little too loudly for my liking.  Granted, this occurred sometime after 2 am after the bars had closed in Milwaukee, we were drunk as sin and--in retrospect--he may not have yelled at all.  He may have just loudly exclaimed his anti-meatball manifesto when I slurred a request for a meatball sandwich after closing out a bar with 2 of my buddies.

Whatever.  Jimmy Johns will never get my business again.

Another example:  to this day I hate a former White Sox player named Jermaine Dye.  Why?  Because he once dropped a fly ball in Oakland during the eighth inning of this game that contributed to an early season loss.  Seriously.  Never mind that the loss only "dropped" the Sox to a 16-5 record during a season where they didn't play a single game out of 1st place and eventually won the World Series.  My hatred also ignores the fact that Jermaine Dye was named MVP of that very same World Series, driving in the only run of the deciding game 4. 

None of this matters.  Jermaine Dye sucks.

Which brings me to Boston.  These friggin' guys...

Where do I begin?  Do I hate Boston because of the Red Sox?  Because of Kevin Garnett?  Because of Rajon Rondo?  Mitt Romney?  Because Fenway Park is over-priced, has terrible sightlines and was 1st runner up in the category of "Most Urine Smelling Stadium", 2nd only to Wrigley?  Is it because of a palpable  east coast arrogance that I hate?  Because I think clam chowder is gross?  Is it because ESPN sucks at the teat of the Red Sox and Yankees?  Is it because Boston College has caused my Fightin' Irish so much pain over the years?  Could it be Bill Belicheck?  Tom Brady?

"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

Can't it be all of the above?

Whatever the reason, hating on Boston is super-fun.  I feel that everyone needs a villain and sometimes it's important to have a better villain than Jimmy Johns.

The Poll Results are In!

And apparently I'm wrong.

My loyal readership of 7 may remember a few weeks ago when I posted the "Literal Sally" story about my wife.  Our argument boiled down to this:  When I went off to watch the Chicago Bulls play basketball, was I watching "Boys playing with balls" or was I watching "Boys playing with ball"?  Well, the results are in and they are not pretty:

Boys playing with ball:   3 votes (33%)

Boys playing with balls:  6 votes (66%)

Full disclosure:  I voted twice. So thank you, kind stranger, who voted with me.  It's just you and me against the world. 

I still say that within the confines of the marital argument, I'm right.  Sure, maybe not grammatically or even drunkenly correct....none of this changes the fact that there is only one damn ball that matters.

Alas, the people have spoken.  And, as I've always said, everyone is entitled to their opinion, even if that opinion is wrong.

Whatever.  You guys suck.

******************

This seems as good a time as any to bring up the results of my first poll:  "Should Mike lay off the crap?".  This poll was thrown up after my recent visit to the doctor's office who found that my cholesterol level was "John Goodman High".  This was also after a fast-food bender of epic proportions.  The results:

Should Mike lay off the crap?

God, yes!  Krishni loves you!  6 votes
Nah. If there's anything these last 32 years has taught us, it's that your colon can handle anything:  4 votes
I dunno.  Do you have insurance?  0 votes

First and foremost, I'd like to thank the 6 voters who seem concerned about my physical well being.  Secondly, I'd like to thank the 4 voters that will continue to encourage me to destroy myself from within.  That'll be a whole lot of fun. 

Hey, isn't tonight the all-you-can-eat spaghetti dinner at The Rail?

Sith Lord? More like Wuss Lord.

It's early.  That was the best I could do.

But seriously, Darth Vader has lost it.  First salsa dancing for the old folks and now a very Earthly trip to the happiest place on earth with the 2 most incompetent Stormtroopers since this guy? 

There is just one Darth Vader who managed to dominate my childhood, and he's clearly badass:

Today in Sheer Internet Joy

Arrrrrrrrg!

I do apologize for my lack of blogging but I'm stuck in the 7th circle of legal hell.  Here's a tip for those of you that are planning on dying some day:  write out an iron-clad, itemized, down-to-the-letter, obnoxiously specific Will and Testament that accounts for any possible death scenario.  If you think a contingent like "And in the case I get sucked into a crashing F-18's engine whilst on vacation in Burundi, any potential pot-bellied pigs that I may possibly own are bequeathed to one James Freund" is too specific, take it from me:  it is not. 

In the meantime, I found a great picture at the Walt Disney World blog the other day of Muppets as Starwars characters.  Discuss.