I get the distinct feeling that Hanahan is sitting in the bleachers at a Cubs spring training workout, monitoring the outpouring of support via his battered old 2004 Palm Pilot (no iPhone for this brooding conservative SOB) and watching airplanes fly by with "Free Hanahan" banners in tow, while vendors dispense beer in cups emblazoned with photos of Sam Elliott and "Don't Censor Him".  "Pray for Han" will likely be the topic of sermons around the country this Sunday, and I'm sure he's borrowed his best friend's Dad's '07 Passat (a significant step up for Han).

Much as with Jennifer Grey's character in a classic old comedy which foreshadowed the goings-on here in Foxland, I've lost my patience with this campaign - disgusted that Hanahan can get so much attention while barely lifting a finger to manipulate so many to do his bidding for him.  Much as I despise over-zealous blog police (the comparison to Principal Ed Rooney is inescapable), I am growing to appreciate the value they have in keeping this out-of-control ego from ruining this website.

No, count me out of this lemming plunge.  Hanahan is sipping peach blow fizzes at his dad's club while Lori, BNut, and Moseby do all the hard work for him, distributing e-mails, blog posts, flyers, free t-shirts, public television appeals, etc. trying to heap more attention onto this narcissistic flippity-flop.

YOU DISGUST ME.  (Ferris/Han - setting aside our professional differences, would you mind posting a scantily clad photo of Jennifer Grey in your next blog?)

It is over.  The Chargers played a very good game.  Either team could have claimed a victory, and the Chargers did.  Great defense, and a great running offense (Rivers is a little punk, but that's another blog).

But you can never, EVER utter the phrase "Ed Hochuli Call" or just "Hochuli Call" again.  You all played that to the hilt throughout the season, to the point many of us thought a shipment of Xanax was called for.  But after two ticky-tack calls resulting in drive extending first downs in OT, and one complete phantom call (the defensive holding - well within the 5 yards allowed for contact and NOT a hold anyways) were not the way you want to see a playoff game decided. 

Good luck through the rest of the playoffs.  But please don't ever lean on that horribly overused phrase again.  Fortune has more than made up for whatever harm (little) was caused back in that inconsequential early season game.

Side note:  this was doubly painful - having to watch my beloved Colts lose AND listen to Al Michaels throughout the game.  What a putz - the king of strained/tangential analogies.  We GET it Al, you fancy yourself an intellectual (were that the case, you likely wouldn't have to strain to make the case - so cut it the #$*& out!).

... haven't dropped by in awhile. 

Who won the Chase? 

Did it end before Halloween? 

Does the season start again next week? 

Does anyone in NASCAR show the slightest modicum of marketing restraint? 

Is there another buck to squeeze out of the formula before it goes the way of Professional Wrestling?

Will Obama and the liberal elite majority in the House and Senate require only 3.2 beer be allowed into NASCAR venues and require affirmative action for all aspects of the sport?  (fans, owners, drivers, administrators?) 

Will Joe the Plumber get a ride in the 20?

Will we continue to refer to racers by their car number or sponsor name?  GOD, please let this trend stop (but only after you put a terrible and final end to all males who insist on wearing flip-flops on airplanes).

Seattle out.

I'm a soccer fan.  And I'm a football (American style) fan too.  The two worlds rarely cross - the games are so dissimilar.  Soccer is about finesse and continuous flow; American football is about power, intensity, and the moment. 

The soccer fan in me cringes every time I see a soccer player fling himself (and lately, herself) to the turf, writhing in agony after the slightest whiff of contact in either:  1. an effort to sway the referee to award the opponents a foul, 2. genuine lack of pain tolerance, 3. lack of manliness, 4. all of the above.  I'd complain to pro-soccer/anti-American-football types that "you'd NEVER see an American football player do that, ... it simply wouldn't be accepted by fans, coaches, or teammates".

Wrong.

If you saw this evenings Arizona v. San Francisco game, particularly the third quarter, you may have seen a play where Larry Fitzgerald went over the middle to haul down a short pass for a couple of yards.  There's not much that's more manly that going over the middle to catch a short pass, knowing that a corner or a linebacker is waiting to lay a world of hurt on you.  Sure enough, Larry was tackled (nothing all that hard, just a solid tackle).  As the tackler got up, he stuck his hand out to push against Larry's shoulder pads (Fitzgerald was starting to sit up).  You'd have thought Larry was shot in the head the way he flung his arms up in the air and threw his body back down on the ground.  And, sure enough, the back judge, not schooled by years refereeing the pussies that too often reveal themselves in a soccer match, threw a flag for unsportsmanlike conduct on the Forty-Niner.

Not a big deal?  Probably not.  But it might be.  Here's hoping the Cardinal's coaching staff, the Cardinal's team, and the NFL make a point of noting Dame Fitzgerald's moment of disgrace and call it what it was:  behavior totally unacceptable on an American football field where sweat, toughness, and unbelievable mental control over pain are and must continue to be the norm.  Rather, it was behavior totally characteristic of the anti-American-football player:  the guy wearing cute little shorts, metrosexual haircuts, and the pain tolerance and general pussiness of so many professional soccer players.

Here's hoping he's called out for his pathetic behavior.  It's already an uphill battle for soccer - where many fans hate this behavior, but have been unable to affect change to remove this disgrace from the World's Game.  End it NOW, NFL, nip this mother #*$&er right in the bud.

I'm a little bit surprised at the uproar caused by the way the Brickyard 400 was run. Of course it was a fiasco. There is no doubt that the first 150 or so laps were forced to be divided into 10 to 12 lap dashes, separated by "competition yellows" (or the more than occasional "tire blowed up yellow"). And that's not really racing, right?

A race in a premier series such as NASCAR's Sprint Cup should be relatively unfettered by contrivance once the green flag drops. Formulas are derived and tweaked from season to season in an attempt to produce door-handle to door-handle racing - the type of racing the fans of this series seem to want. Sometimes the formula is tweaked mid-season - as it was just this week in an attempt to level the playing field (Toyotas had "too much" horsepower, despite meeting all design guidelines set by NASCAR for the season). But once the green flag waves on a Sunday afternoon or a Saturday night, it should be up to the drivers, their crews, and the equipment. If one is dialed-in better than the others, bully for him. If he opens up a huge lead, bully for him!

But it NEVER is that way. And Sunday just served as an exaggeration of what the sanctioning body does in just about every single race.

Why the indignity now? What was so different between yesterday's race and all the others?
Many will maintain the difference was the fact that NASCAR threw the caution every 10 to 12 laps, in order for teams to have the opportunity to put on a new set of tires due to extreme tire wear. And they'd be right - but only due to the reason for and frequency of the yellows.

I maintain that yesterday's race was a nearly perfect extension of NASCAR's general philosophy of operation. If a race is going in a direction the sanctioning body deems troublesome, it does not hesitate to force it's fat little fingers into the dynamics of that race in an effort to artificially produce the outcome it wants.

So we ended up with a seven lap trophy dash? That is no different than 80% or more of the races anyway. Gone only was the illusion that a genuine race took place during the preceding 153 laps. The mechanics of the melodrama were TOO exposed for racing fans this time - it was TOO obvious how artificially contrived the "racing" was. It was boring.

Yes, it was boring. Just as it nearly always is (until the last seven laps).