Summer television brings us mostly reruns with precious few exceptions. For every Big Brother All-Stars to send internet message boards into overload there are way too many disasters waiting to happen. ABC is billing Master of Champions as featuring "unique and extreme challenges" that from the promos seem more like disgusting and stupid attempts at imitating the crazy stuff on Japanese television. This is about as exciting to me as waiting for the inevitable lame headlines from the NHL and NBA finals. Hockey has their pairing set and I am already counting the moments before someone figures out a way to work Hurricanes and Oilers into a sentence. The hacks must be chomping at the bit in anticipation of a possible Phoenix vs. Miami basketball series. I can see it now: "Suns burn up the Heat!" or "Heat too hot for the Suns". Someone needs to get these people drugs. I hear all the creative writers are on them.

One thing this Master of Champions show brings to mind is that there are too many sports in the world. It is getting so bad that inbreeding has become prevalent. Case in point is underwater hockey. I am left to wonder if this sport was created after a power outage at an ice rink. Well gee whiz Wally I guess we should just make the best of it. In the interest of accuracy, according to the Australian Underwater Federation website (yes, I'm serious) it was created by the British Navy "to keep their divers fit and to improve their ability to move and work efficiently under water". Apparently over 20 countries now participate in this nonsense. I would go on, but it would be ridiculous to do so when the picture below speaks volumes.

Two good sports (swimming and ice hockey) being combined is not always logical. Neither is the movie 12 Monkeys because James Cole (played by Bruce Willis) is basically doomed to loop back in time forever. It still stands as one of my favorite films though and reminds me that Brad Pitt actually acted at one time. If I was Cole I might be tempted negotiate with that council of freaks to allow me a little personal gain before saving the world from a deadly disease. Most people would get all Frequency and dole out Yahoo stock advice to family members or friends. Some might even encounter their younger selves, but I saw Time Cop and I am officially petrified of winding up like that corrupt Senator. All it would take for me is a quick bit of coaching advice for the head of a youth soccer team, advising him there is no need to rub in a 4-1 lead so put that Norcalfella guy on the bench. The young lad will probably appreciate not shredding his left knee so badly that two minutes of his life were erased from his memory. Eventually his career in athletics might be a little more promising.

Three years in the future his endeavors probably would have landed him on the American version of a football field. I always wondered what my career on the gridiron might have produced, and with a faulty wheel was unfortunately never able to find out. The position of choice in these ponderings is always safety. Perhaps if the time travel thing ever comes to fruition I might pursue that career, but because I am sane do not expect me to troll EBay for a Napoleon Dynamite device. Just for fun though I imagine myself being drafted by the Oakland Raiders. I easily deflect the 1997 Monday Night Football miracle pass from Elvis Grbac to Andre Rison. Unlike the players on hand I am smart enough to sit back on the damn goal line with a five-point lead and only seconds to play. Maybe I could have also tackled Shannon Sharpe instead of sitting hopelessly in the stands as he catapulted the Baltimore Ravens into the Super Bowl. Hard to know, but it is fun to imagine.

I offer special thanks to detroitsports for an engaging topic. This is a delinquent entry. For that I do apologize. Rest assured that I have been busy successfully completing Sly 2: Band of Thieves and the Klaww gang is officially out of business with the Clockwerk parts having been destroyed. I am still making regular trips to the blood bank saving up for an XBOX 360 and evidently need to donate an organ in order to afford the PS3 when it finally hits the market. Until then I have to enjoy what I can. Next up is From Russia With Love.

I might be 75 bloody years old but my voice still works