I haven’t posted on sports in a long time. I haven’t had a chance to watch much of it the past month or two. I missed most of the Stanley Cup finals. Another southern city won it … another city that didn’t even have a pro hockey team when I first began following the sport in ’72. Well, okay, good for the Hurricanes. I really mean that. Outside of Pennsylvania, no ’67 expansion team has yet to win the Cup. And this year’s final was the first time two franchises that began outside the NHL faced each other for the championship. Tell the original six back in ’77 that the ’06 Cup would go to the winner of Whalers-Oilers, and they’d choke in their Molson’s.
I asked Anita to tape the World Cup and I watched it on “tape delay,” carefully avoiding news outlets until I could settle on the living room floor. I think an alien invaded Zidane’s brain. I was trying to lip read the player who was jawing with him, and it’s not like there were any gestures toward Zidane’s family or private parts. The French dude who bounced his penalty kick off the crossbar? Zidane would’ve bounced it in. Oh, wait, he did that already. All my boyhood buddies are happy with Italy’s fourth Cup.
What a nice surprise to come back from vacation and start reading the MLB standings. Oh look! The Royals are above .250. Oh look! The Royals are above .300. Oh look! The Royals are above .350. One local sportwriter opined that our beloved baseball team would have to lose thirty-nine straight to return to the losing pace of the ’62 Mets. Bold one, he is. If we still had Lima, we could do it.
Football … American style … This is an example of how unsporting I’ve been in ’06. I forgot that the Bills’ head coach Mike Mularkey quit and I couldn’t remember who his replacement was until about five days later. Then I still wasn’t sure. Dick Jauron, right? Or is it Marv Levy? As Roger Daltrey once asked, “Who are you? I really wanna know.”