Friday . . . sweet release.

In response to some comments I will try and do more sports, less office (though this is sort of like trying to watch Stan Van Gundy in a press conference and not comment on the mustache . . . nearly impossible).

I will say this, and then on to sports: Yesterdays pathetic rant about TO and Michael Jackson was terrible. Like Buckner, I let one squib under the glove. But when every post is accompanied by the pressure of not getting caught online by your supervisor, or the Linewomen (see other posts), sometimes you force the shot.

What I meant to say was that folks used to cut Jacko some slack for being a headcase. Then he went too far. TO is edging closer to alienating whatever following he still has. That was my point. There, I just said in two lines what I couldn’t say in 700 words yesterday. Apologies.

On to my random sports thoughts for the morning. I’ll try and sneak on another post this afternoon.

NFL Ramblings
The fashion police should be staging a major sting operation in Foxborough at season’s end. While Belichick continues his truly unexplainable homeless man impersonation, Tom Brady is sporting the worst haircut I have ever seen. Really. Please, please, please check out SI's “Sportsman of the Year" cover. It is awful. His sideburns are like talking to our 85-year-old office custodian: they start out OK then just sort of ramble incoherently until they peter off into oblivion. There is nothing to compare this to. It is terrible.

Did you catch the AP article where Kevan Barlow is bragging that he and fellow RB Frank Gore are the future of the organization, not the potential draftee Reggie Bush? My favorite quote: "Barlow, who leads the club with 581 yards rushing and three touchdowns . . . " Um . . . pssst! . . . Kevin! Yeah, over here. Listen, you might want to stop talking. No, really. Bush had better numbers in ONE FREAKING GAME than you had all season. Your future is on a practice squad.

The article is high comedy. You ought to check it out.


MLB Ramblings
Remember when “Nomah” was mentioned in the same breath with A-Rod and Jeter? Yeah . . . me, neither.

Did you see the AP report out of Houston last night? Roger Clemens caused quite a ruckus at the local Taco Bell. Seems his car was parked in front of the menu for over an hour. Fearing the worse, management called the paramedics. When they got to Clemens’ car, everyone was relieved. Nothing was wrong with the Astros’ ace . . . he was just taking his time deciding. "You know, the Chalupa's are mighty tasty," the Future Hall of Famer was quoted as saying, "But the Chipotle Grilled Stuff Burrito's . . . well, they sure are zesty. I was just trying to keep all my options open."

A-Rod, A-Rod, A-Rod. Best I can tell, A-Rod never lived a day of his life in the Dominican Republic. Born in NYC, grew up in Miami. So why the deliberation about playing for them in the World Baseball Classic? If this were the prevailing logic of all the participants, we would have no US team at all. Though the Welsh, Irish, and British teams would be stacked. "Now pitching for the Eastern Germanic Tribes, Billy Wagner."

And while we're on the Baseball Classic, leave it to our government to mess up a good thing. Banning Cuba really puts a damper on things. You know there were at least a dozen teams that were going to be pulling out all the stops trying to urge defections, looking for the next Contreras or El Duque. There would have been more revelry than a weekend-long recruiting visit to the University of Colorado. And let's be honest, raise your hand if you think Cuba is a threat to anyone. Why does anyone take Cuba seriously? They're like your cousin who sells Amway (or maybe they’re just like my cousin that sells Amway) . . . annoying, not really that dangerous, and their isolation is caused by their own doing. (If you want to ban someone from baseball, why not ban Ugueth Urbina. Unless you are OK with a machete wielding maniac coming on to close out the 9th.) I mean, the "revolution" is what, like, 50 years old? Hey, Fidel, I think you got 'em all. All I know is that today is a big day in Cuba. It's the day that the new car models hit the market. Yup, for $1400 you can get a '58 Chevy of your very own. Really. Give me a break.

Gotta run so I don’t get fired. More later. Maybe.