The Anthem Lady, or Kat Returns to College Basketball

Note: I wrote this on the train ride home on Friday, December 24th, but because of my family's lack o' internet, it is getting posted on Wednesday, December 29th. Just use your imagination and pretend it's last week.

I had only gone to one sporting event in my life where the number of fans for the opposing team had come close to the fans for the home team. That would be Niners-Bills in October of 1998 (aka the closest I've ever had to a major religious experience).

Well, then I went to the Canisius-Boston University men's basketball game this afternoon, where I found myself in the midst of all of the Canisius alumni in New England.

I went primarily to see my boss--aka, Boston University's Anthem Lady--sing the National Anthem. I had never seen her sing, and I've worked for her since the beginning of June, which wouldn't be a big deal except that she is the Anthem Lady. I don't know how else to put it, but she's pretty much the most famous person I've ever known. I can pretty much guarantee that if you've lived in Boston for any length of time and are a sports fan, you know who she is. Name a sporting event, and she's sang at it. So I had to rectify this situation and finally go see her sing. And I figured, while I'm at it, to finally take in a Boston University basketball game in Boston, as opposed to the two I had taken in over the years in Binghamton.

I will admit, I copped out five minutes into the second half due to Anthem Lady's offer of a ride home (yes, I may be queen of public transportation, but I never turn down a ride home--she had to leave early to pick up her kids). But from what I did see, Boston has a rather deep team. Unlike the team Binghamton fielded while I was in attendance, Boston has no one overwhelmingly good player--the campus and surrounding media make it out to be Chaz Carr, but from my experience, he's not leaps and bounds better than everyone else, just slightly better at getting the ball, and he doesn't produce as much as he's made out to when he does get it. Compare that to Binghamton, where we had mediocre players--hard working, don't get me wrong, but mediocre--and then one substantially overhyped media "superstar" who we'd put in the game to take "easy" free throws that he'd never make. (But really, I love the Alaskian. He made getting lunch in the Union that much more hysterical for us 5'1 and unders who had the pleasure to stand next to him in line.)

However, Canisius took the first half in a performance that was rather unfitting of a 1-6 team. I didn't know their record before hand, and was astonished after I got home and learned it was 1-6. They sure didn't play like it in the first half. They're tough and excellent at blocking shots--they just get in the way like no team I have seen previously. But I think they may get easily intimidated. Once BU went up by 4 or so, they retreated and were too busy thinking through their defense instead of executing it. It wouldn't of been too hard to defend--every play in the latter first half and the part of the second that I saw was that had Carr dribble outside, pass to the coach's son or another similar looking guy whose name I'm not sure of, who then would dribble, Carr would move inside, and the ball would then be passed to either Carr or Peterkin, who would shoot it in for 2 or muscle to the basket for 1. All Canisius had to do was defend against Peterkin, and they could of slowed BU down, but I feel they didn't have a clue Peterkin could be a threat (all of the PERD people I sat with had no idea who he was--I found out this morning that he's a transfer from Notre Dame).

However, despite the Griffins initial scoring burst and their eventual bust on defense, what was most surprising was how many Canisius alumni live in Boston. Tons of alumni were there, and if they didn't outnumber the BU fans, they came really close. Canisius is in Buffalo, and I guess this further supports my theory that if a Western New Yorker is going to drudge away to a big city, they tend to go to Boston. This is because Western New York is just a grayer, boring, more spread out Boston. Think about it. Bills fans are just like Red Sox fans, we all love our baseball, we think nothing of winter weather, we have strange lingo that no one else in the country uses (bubblers? pop? white hots? frappes?), and we have weird accents (or at least everyone tells me Western New Yorkers do.)

The Terriers were securely in the lead 34-24 when I left, and ended up winning 62-45. Not an amazingly dominant performance by the Terriers, but they're still at the top of the America East (don't ask Binghamton's record--it's depressing). Surprisingly, Tyler Coppenrath led Vermont are struggling at .500 right now, which should make upcoming conference play very interesting indeed.

***
I'm writing this entry on an Amtrak train in business class. Yes, I kind of wish I had an eggnog latte so I could feel even more Peter-King-ish.

I know you're saying, "But Kat--you were supposed to fly home for the holidays. What happened?"

I bought the ticket despite my horrendous fear of flying--over my childhood I backed out of two trips to Disney World because it meant I'd have to fly--but freaked out yesterday when I realized that when I had the panic attack I was sure to have when I got in the tunnel and as the plane took off, I would have no one I knew around to calm me down. I'm lucky enough not to usually suffer from panic attacks. I'm a pretty calm and collected person--except when I'm on a plane. Now, five years ago I had a whole group of people I knew with me, and they were all aware of my fear and were able to combat the ensuing attack pretty quickly. But this was going to be different. I would be between two strangers who'd be calling for the stewardess frantically. I couldn't do that. Plus my flight wasn't a straight shot--it was Boston to Baltimore, Baltimore to Rochester--so it meant I'd have to go through the takeoff and landing twice, and I didn't think I could do it. So I woke up at 4:45am from a really restless night of sleep, and canceled my ticket. Luckily, some train tickets had opened up over the past few days--in business class of course, because it's not like they could make it cheap or anything--so I got those.

And here I am. The chicken of all chickens, rather enjoying my time on the train. Of course, we're only close to hour 3, meaning I have...seven more hours ahead of me. Good gosh.
****

Remember my last post? The Cinderella fantasy football season of me? Well, this past weekend was the equivalent of Cinderella's left behind glass slipper being picked up by the Prince and pounded into shreds. Then Cinderella goes back to her room to find out that her other glass slipper is OUT WITH A FRACTURED FIBULA for the REST OF THE SEASON.

Okay, now that I've gotten that out of my system...

The best I can finish now is 3rd place in both leagues. And true, the worst I can do is 4th. But still! I had my hopes up! I've been a football maniac since age eleven. To have a disappointing finish to a fantasy football season at age 22 (almost 23) is saddening. It's depressing. I've been following football now for half my life! Horribly horribly depressing.

But I should stop complaining. Third is good. Third sets me up well to build on next year. That is if anyone will have me back in their leagues.

***
So I finished 10-6 last week. 10-6. After a 13-3 week. Man, last weekend was just not good football wise for me. Well, except that I got to see the Bills kick the tail out of the Bengals (get it--tail, tigers? Laugh at me instead of with me if you must, as long as you laugh at that.) That's a rarity in good ol' Boston, to see a Bills game that doesn't involve the Pats. On a Pats note (and yes, we're ignoring that Tom Brady had a really bad game on Monday night solely because he's wicked hot even when he's sad), I did my first Pats "we" interchange this week. I said "we" when speaking about the Pats. "We" used to be reserved for the Bills, formerly reserved for the Niners when they were led by our favourite number 8 there. I think that means I'm a real Bostonian now. (The Red Sox pronoun replacement happened a while back, but that's because I'd been a Red Sox fan for a little bit already.)

So before either a) my computer overheats because it's on my lap and not on a table or b) the battery dies, let me do my picks. These will be minus the Packers-Vikings game, which starts in five minutes and to which I'll be sadly oblivious to while I sit here on this internet connection-less train.

Kansas City over Oakland--As my fantasy football confidant/student worker Chris would say, Kansas City has been "lights out" lately.

Tennessee over Denver--Go for broke when no money is on the line is what I say, so here's this upset special. I don't know if ya'll realize this, but Shanhan has been with the Broncos almost a decade...and he's proven that the West Coast offense doesn't work for everybody. He lucked out in the 90s with his string of quarterback luck (Young followed by Elway--he got three Super Bowl rings out of those two). But I think it might be time for him to go.

Pittsburgh over Baltimore--I used to like Rothlisberger because a) he's my age and b) he too has an unpronounceable and unspellable last name. However, this whole winning thing is getting old quick for this Pats and Bills fan. Darn it, just lose for once!

Detroit over Chicago

Giants over Cincinnati

San Diego over Indy--It'll be close though. Come on, give the Chargers some credit.

Jacksonville over Houston--Unfortunately.

Carolina over Tampa Bay

Atlanta over New Orleans--There is more than Vick on this team. They can win against a horribly weirdo Saints team without him.

Pats over Jets--I wish this game was on Saturday so I could laugh at my Jets and Yankees loving uncle. Hahahahaha. I should of gotten him a choker for Christmas.

Washington over Dallas

Seattle over Arizona--Homgren will suit up and go out there himself if he has to.

Miami over Cleveland--I love Wes Welker. Hate the Dolphins, but think the world of Wes Welker, with his cute little name and Belichick-like multi-purposes.

Philly over St. Louis--Mark Bulger has dropped just that much further on the hottest QBs list.

And of course, the Hailey's Comet of football matchups (okay, it happens a little more frequently than that, but it's always a special day when it comes around), Buffalo over San Francisco. I wish this would end up a little bit more of a contest, but it won't. But what's most important is that I'll be in Rochester on Sunday, which means this will be on TV for me!

Happy Holidays everyone!

Moneyball, 4 Inch Heels and Copper Highlights
(or Kat's a Living Juxtaposition)

Stop me if you've heard this one:

I'm on the bus this morning, with my new blondish copper highlights, my fake Kate Spade Bag, and my 4 inch heels (and yes, those things do hurt by the end of the day), and I realize that Boston is much like Long Island when it comes to unexpected snow: it freaks the heck out. Granted, the inch this morning surprised even me, but still--I expected more from Bostonians. So I'm on the bus, and I realize that this is going to be a long ride from Chestnut Hill, so I take out my new copy of Moneyball (book one on the "Cram in a bunch of reading for fun over three weeks inbetween semesters" list).

I look up, and a sixty something guy is staring incredulously at me. And it wasn't one of those sixty year olds up here in Boston that think that they actually have a chance with a twenty something girl on public transportation, but someone who honestly couldn't believe what I was reading.

I let it go, probably because of what had happened the night before when I went to buy the book. I knew exactly what I was looking for, promptly found it and went to the cashier. "Moneyball! One of our biggest sellers for the holidays!" he exclaimed.

"I can imagine. I've read so much about it." I acknowledged.

The cashier nodded. "It does make a great gift."

I took out my wallet. "Oh, it's not a gift. It's for me."

I looked up to see the now-silent cashier for a second and looked confused. "Oh...well, um.....shouldn't you be uh, studying or something?"

"Well, I'll start it after I finish my law paper."

"Oh...well, yeah. I'm sure you'll....uh, like the book."

Can't a girl just read her Moneyball in peace? I have three weeks to make it through that, False Start: How the New Browns Were Doomed to Fail, When the Tuna Went Down to Texas, and Committed: Confessions of a Fantasy Football Junkie.

Speaking of fantasy football junkies, I think I'm heading into the week where injuries are going to catch up with me. In the MCFFLOAT I have four wide recievers. Three of them are listed as questionable this week. And of course this is the week of the playoffs where I go up against the number one seed, the guy who never loses. I had such hope until I realized that I was playing him in this round. I mean, I made it into the championship bracket! There was no place else to go but up! I mean, if there was a Cinderella fantasy football story, I could of been it! (Hey, it was established earlier that I can handle uncomfortable shoes.)

And of course, he wins his matchup and there I go. It's midnight. Fantasy Football Cinderella is going to go back to lusting after Tom Brady and Kyle Boller, and sit quietly on her vast football knowledge until next year. Sigh...it was a nice run while it lasted.

Of course, I'm totally omitting the fact that I won the regular season for my other league, where I feel like the only people still really paying attention anymore would be me and my old boss Jeff. That was not a Cinderella story, for that league is made up of Binghamton-ites who know I know football, and who reside in a part of the state where football isn't as crucial to everyday life as it is up here in Massachusetts. (Baseball is their water, football is their bread. Take away both, and I'm convinced Massachusetts residents would wither like the fifty-cent roses we used to have at the flower store where I worked over the summer.) So really, it's been a really successful season in both leagues, and I shouldn't be lamenting.

Okay, I'm half awake at this point, so quick picks before I slump over into my computer and the rest of this entry becomes a couple of paragraphs typed by my nose. (I'd attempt some spreads, but I'm still glazed over from the law paper I finished writing this afternoon.)

Pittsburgh over the Giants--Thanks a lot, Eli. Because of your incompetence in even handing off the ball to Barber or tossing it to Shockey, my student worker/fantasy football confidant Chris fell to second in his league for the first time all season. Way to scar a kid going into finals.

Washington over San Fran--I feel like the words of the teeny-popper of the moment, JoJo, best describe my feelings towards Erickson and the entire front office staff of the 49ers. And I quote:
"Get out!
Leave!
Right now!
It's too late, and I can't wait
For you to be gone."
Such depth! I feel like so much work went into crafting this wonderfully articulate song. My brain is working overtime trying to figure out all the hidden meanings of this song.
But really, all sarcasticness aside, someone needs to schedule an intervention for this team. It's that bad.

Carolina over Atlanta--I honestly have no idea. I'm having a football pizza party Saturday night, and the lone invitee-who-is-not-my-roommate e-mailed and said, "I wish there were better games to watch. I don't care about the NFC." But it's just the novelty of NFL on a Saturday that this party is built around, so it'll work.

Houston over Chicago

Buffalo over Cincinnati--Of course the Bills go on this streak when I don't live in New York State. Gotta love it. To think I had written them off...but then again, we're finally in a playoff race, meaning we'll collapse horribly, giving all of Western New Yorkers a pitiful end to their holiday season. Happy Holidays, Bills fans! We're the new Red Sox fans of the world, except at least the Red Sox had some World Series already stashed in there. Bills fans aren't having a bad century, they're having a hurtful existance.

Minnesota over Detroit

San Diego over Cleveland--Excuse me, but I'm noticing that a certain team may be doing a bit better now that a certain QB is out for the season. Never mind that it happened to coinside with the firing of a troubled coach. I'd just thought it needed to be put out there.

Jets over Seattle

Philadephia over Dallas--Does anyone call out, "Go 'Cuse!" at the tv screen when McNabb does something great? Is it just me and the Western New Yorkness?

Denver over Kansas City--Fun game Monday night by the Chiefs. I didn't get to see it, but listened to it over the radio. Of course I miss all the offensive funhouses. Of course.

St. Louis over Arizona--Can this game just not count? I swear, I'd rather watch San Fran.
Tampa Bay over New Orleans

Green Bay over Jacksonville--Everyone says next year is the year for the Jags. But didn't they say that last year too?

Oakland over Tennessee

Indianapolis over Baltimore--I haven't spoken to my father about this game, but I can hear him right now, "Over course Indy will win. They'll rig it if they have to. They want him to get that record on national TV. It's the same reason Favre was scheduled on Monday Night Football at his 200th start."

New England over Miami--Of course, my first homeworkless Monday night, and I get this game. If the Bills (or at least the Western NY media) danced around the idea of Marv Levy returning when Gregg Williams was done with, then I swear in the next week, if Saban doesn't sign, then you're going to hear the Don Shula rumor. And not his younger son either.

Last week: 13-3. This week: Probably worse.

I Have a Paper Due on Monday That's Not Done, Thus I Feel the Need to Write an Entry

According to several columnists (cough, cough, Bill Simmons, cough, cough), women DO NOT PICK FOOTBALL GAMES. We don't do spreads, unless they're of food, and we don't play fantasy, unless you're talking about our fantasies of some hot guy.

By those two lines, you should be highly amused. I'm a woman. And last time I checked, I kick butt in most things football on a regular basis. Of course, I'm writing this the day before I enter fantasy football playoffs, and this could all blow up in my face. But I met my goals for my first season playing fantasy football, which was were to make the playoffs in both leagues. I knew that two things I would struggle with this season would be defenses and not being stupid when it came to trading--and trust me, those things bit me in the butt several times. My real concern is with my picks and fantasy--I feel as if my picking skills have gone downhill while playing fantasy football. In fact, I've abandoned picking all together for a large portion of the season, due to the fact that I haven't had time to work on my fantasy team and do picks.

Well, it's time to get back on the horse. Here we go, Week 14.

Atlanta over Oakland-- If I have to sit through another profile of Michael Vick where they compare him to Steve Young, I think I'll throw my Ithaca throw pillow through the TV instead of just at it (I'll just have to throw with my left arm). Yeah, that was cool 2 years ago. It was new 2 years ago. But yeah, um, it's no longer anything we've never heard. Plus, now that Vick has been in the league a few years, I think it's clear that Young and Vick will have far different careers. Despite his inconsistencies, Vick has been more successful in his four years (well, actually really three, given his injury) than Young was in his first few years with the Bucs. I'm not at all suggesting that Vick will have the better career, but he was more successful at the start than Young. In addition, I would like to say that Young knew how to run a shotgun before he left college, unlike Vick.

Baltimore over the Giants--The weekly conversation between me and one of my student workers goes something like this:
Chris: "This is killing me. Shockey got nothing yesterday. I'm not starting him next week."
Me: "At some point, when will they realize that even Warner is better than Manning? Even a concussed Warner is better than Manning."
And then we go on for about ten minutes about how much Manning stinks.

Buffalo over Cleveland--Me, pick against my Bills? Pick against McGahee? Pick against their defense? Pick against any team playing against a team sometimes led by Jeff Garcia? And can I just say that during break, I plan on reading False Start, a book about the reincarnation of the Browns that Peter King mentioned in his Monday Morning Quarterback column last week. I'm interested in reading about Carmen Policy, who I always considered highly talented, and what happened to make him ineffective in Cleveland. On a lighter note, has anyplace in either San Fran or Cleveland played off the whole "Cherry Garcia" idea yet? I mean, up here in Boston, J.P. Licks still has "Cherry Garciaparra" ice cream. Given all the football food take offs the nation has endurred over the years, it would only be appropriate. Nothing will ever top Flutie Flakes. On a somewhat related note, I feel that David Ortiz needs to have a food named after him. Out of all the athletes out there right now, I think he is just due for one.

Dallas over New Orleans--Disciplined inconsistency versus wild, unharnessed inconsistency. Fun times. When the Tuna Went Down to Texas is also on my "to-read" list for break.

Indianapolis over Houston--Uh, yeah. I don't really like any of the Mannings. Whiney daddy's boys. Except I do love the Mastercard commercial with Peyton cheering for the accountants and deli people. Gosh darn cute right there (the commercial, not Peyton...except at the end when he looks at his hand and says, "I'm never gonna wash my hand again!" That's a tad on the endearing side. And then I remember it's a Manning, so I scowl.)

Jacksonville over Chicago--Chicago is like white toast. Bland, underachieving, can sometimes achieve greatness with certain pinch players, like peanut butter (or Chad Hutchinson), but overall, you always want to like it but it falls way below your expectations.

Minnesota over Seattle--Both teams will fight hard, but Culpepper is a tour de force of I-should-of-been-a-basketball-player quarterbacking, and will win in the end.

New England over Cincinnati--The Pats will not fall behind the Steelers. They won't let themselves.

Denver over Miami--Or at least I'd hope so. But with Denver lately, I feel like you never know. I also haven't seen too much of them this season. On the "not seeing them" note, should getting NFL Sunday Ticket be one of my goals for 2005? I mean, getting NFL Network was one of my goals for 2004, so it would logically be the next step.

Pittsburgh over the Jets--Deep down inside, the Jets stink. Well, except for Curtis Martin. I want a 0-4 rest of the season for the Jets. That would make us Bills fans very happy.

Green Bay over Detroit--I keep tearing up whenever I see Brett Favre nowadays, and I sob whenever I read anything about him. Football isn't supposed to make me cry, but I am a girl. Some girls cry at movies, but I don't get the chance to see enough of those, so I cry at sports instead. I just bawled at the Sports Illustrated piece naming the Red Sox as Sportsmen of the Year. Bawled. I was on the bus. ON THE BUS. And I cried. I must say that any future children I may have are going to be enamored with my Red Sox World Series article collection and will hopefully think that I'm the coolest mom ever. Or they'll bawl when they read half the articles.

Arizona over San Fran--Speaking of bawling, I'm tearing up right now just writing the words "San Fran." Why are they sooooooo baaaaaaaadddddd?! (Tear, tear, sniffle, sniffle.)

Carolina over St. Louis--In case you've missed it, Mike Martz is nuts. Crazy. Incomprehensible. But then again, he is effective every fourth game or so. Maybe he'll read the clock this week. We'll see.

San Diego over Tampa Bay--SAN DIEGO, Super Chargers, SAN DI-E-GO! Come on guys, steamroll the rest of the season and get Flutie a Super Bowl ring. Tell me that wouldn't be the story of the year. Tell me that Schottenheimer hasn't proved his worth as an NFL coach with this year's job. He was pretty good with the Chiefs back in the day, but this is just something else.

Philadelphia over Washington--I'll love you, McNabb, if you can help me win fantasy football again this week, and the same goes to you, T.O. If you manage an amazing game, T.O., I'll forgive your participation in stunts that give those non-sports-likers around me a reason to nag me about watching professional sports.

Kansas City over Tennessee--A game with teams so bad that it's gonna be good.

Okay, we'll see if women can pick football games now.

The only thing I really have to venture fully into is spreads. I've done spreads before, but not so much this season. After finals are done (aka, next week), I'm going to pick with spreads. Watch out, Kat has free time! But at this point it's 1:30am, I'm a zombie, my hands feel like lead and my conflict resolution paper is sick of being ignored, so I should do something other than writing an entry. I will return later in the week with more fun procrastination reading for you all, so don't worry.

Boston Guys, Drew Bledsoe and What Us Girls Can Learn From the Two

On my subway ride to work this morning, I was reading the Metro (a newspaper for people with the attention span of a 3 year old) and as usual, I skipped right to the sports section. I'm not that apathetic in real life, but it's not like the Metro has any breaking news that I didn't already read earlier that morning online. That's the thing about sports--there are so many sportswriters out there and so many ways you can twist the facts that factual sports pieces about the same event or topic are often different enough to warrant reading more than one.

Tuesday's sports columnist for the Metro is Bob Halloran, a sports anchor for the ABC affiliate here in Boston. I usually disagree with him for some reason for another, but today there wasn't much to disagree with. His column was about what is every Boston guy seems to be talking about these days: the downfall of Drew Bledsoe.

For someone who plays for your not-too-serious division opponent, Bledsoe sure gets a lot of press. He also gets a lot of discussion out of every Boston bred guy I happen to talk to. I thought it was just because I'm a Bills fan, and therefore, they were just engaging me in conversation. But then I read the Globe this past week, and the Metro last week and today, and I finally figured it out: Boston guys between the ages of 20-30 are obsessed with Bledsoe because he was their hero for their formative football watching years. With Drew's problematic tenure in Buffalo and his age beginning to catch up with him, this population is experiencing...not a loss, but just the realization that they're growing up.

Stay with me no matter how weird this sounds. Think about it: Bledsoe is 32. I'm 22. He was drafted in 1993, when I was 11. The guys I talk to about football are all in their early to mid 20s, meaning they were all pre-teens or just thirteen when Bledsoe became a Patriot. Formative football fandom years right there. What happens in football between the ages of 10-13 totally form the rest of your football watching life. Me and Steve Young--all when I was 10ish-11ish. Buffalo's 0-4 Super Bowl run? From the ages of 8-12.

All of the men in Boston are obsessed with following the end of Bledsoe's career, even though it's with the Bills, because it's the end of one of the first thing they concretely experienced as sports fans. You may have been 5 in 1987, but how much did you realize that the Red Sox blew the World Series? You may have been alive when Larry Bird was lighting up the Garden, but you were a little concerned with trying to ride a tricycle to realize what was really going on. Bledsoe is someone they watched get drafted, go through the requisite rookie blues, learn to find his way under Parcells, and take the Patriots to their first Super Bowl. And while my Boston guys currently believe in the holy trinity of Belichick, Brady and Vinatieri, they can't ever look up to Brady, because he's one of them. He's their age. If this was high school, Brady would be that kid one grade up who is friends with your friend's stairstep older brother. He's be the guy you'd be competing with for a spot on the football team. He'd be the guy the cheerleaders would get to cheer for...

Not that wanna-be cheerleader me has a problem with that.

Nope, I'd cheer for Tom Brady any day.

But that's besides the point.

The end of Bledsoe's career is the end of an era for my favorite Boston guys. The Patriots may be winning Super Bowls now, but these guys don't have that investment in Brady that they did in Bledsoe. Their investment is at a loss, and they just can't recoup the profits. They're going to have to admit that they had their run, but the market is now at a loss, and they're going to have to get rid of it. Does that make sense? Who they banked on for so many years, who they looked up to, who they spent every fall Sunday watching during the majority of their adolescence is not only playing for a division rival, but about to be replaced with either Mr. Useless Quarterback, Shane Matthews, or a rookie who has yet to completely recover from a broken leg.

However, us girls would expect these mourning-for-Drew guys to be moping quietly, thumbing through their Bledsoe rookie cards ant those old school shadow numbered Pats jerseys and original sharktooth hats...but no. Guys don't work that way. Guys don't mope. Guys obsess and analyze. They don't ask why not, but the whole gamut of journalistic questions. If a girl is depressed, they tear up and ask, "Why doesn't he like me? Why won't it work out? Why does he like her and not me? Whhhhhhyyyyyyyyyyyy?!?!?!" Guys, they just ask, "When exactly did Drew lose his mobility? What coaching system? Was Wysche able to help him at all this season? How good was Drew's arm back in 1996? If he had had the mobility in the pocket, how good could he have been? Was he really the one orchestrating his own departure to Buffalo back in 2002?"

Because part of this letting go of Bledsoe involves their self-observation that they are getting older, Boston guys will obviously start to put up some sort of bitter defense mechanism, which in this case takes the form of making great fun out of the first Bills fan they come across, aka me. I lost a bet to my boss over the game, and now have to put my hair up in a straight out of the 80s ponytail and wear it all day this upcoming Friday. The guy I dated over the summer e-mailed me and mentioned how much the Bills were going to be decimated, and then e-mailed again Monday morning to let me know that while he had been nervous going in, the Pats beat the Bills with a ragtag group of cornerbacks and how much Bledsoe just "sucked." Sure, it's all in good fun, but I swear there's a little bit of a defense mechanism in there. Bitterness=denial that their childhood is over.

Ladies, we can take a lot from observing Boston guys mourn their favorite QBs descent into mediocrity (well, unfortunately, it might be beyond even that at this point). We may finally be able to understand the thought processes of men. They deal with depression by analyzing, they hate the idea of getting old, and they keep ugly mid-1990s NFL sharktooth hats under their bed. Or just consider this: Men and women are both nostalgia based creatures, but women miss what they can't have, and men miss what they once had and the amount of time that has passed since they had it.

Hmm...men are quite easy to figure out when you get down to it.

Okay, maybe they aren't.

An Afternoon in the Life: Kat's Sunday Conversation

I give you an unprecedented look into my personal journal. I know, I know. It is nary a time that a girl lets anyone read her personal journal. However, I want to let everyone know how sad my life has become, thus I give you last night's entry in it's entirety:

"11/6/04
So here's my question. I'm reading Sports Illustrated right now before bed, and I'm reading about Ben Rothlisberger (who isn't the greatest looking QB, but he's not that bad.) What would of happened with him had Mularkey still had been the Steelers' offensive coordinator? Would Mularkey draft Rothlisberger? I think so. Would he be as successful under Mularkey? I don't think so...but then again, isn't Rothlisberger pretty mobile and good at thinking on the fly while Bledsoe isn't anymore?"

That was my journal entry. That is not a rare journal entry for me. I remember one journal entry from last year that asked if anyone else besides me was weirded out by the fact that Billick and Belichick have similar names and if you squint or look really really quickly, they kind of look the same, but not really.

Yeah.

I have no life.

And I will not be getting one anytime soon. I just spent all weekend at a campus activities conference in Marlboro, MA. Now, these gatherings are filled with colleges the size of a small suburban high school with more corn stalks around them than students. These students and advisors want to attract talent to come perform at their school, and a lot of the time, because of their location, their only option is to hire smaller acts through campus promoters, who in turn, feature their top acts at this conference.

Then you have us, Boston University. Promoters saw my polo shirt and literally dragged me by my sleeve over to their booths, trampling over some poor student chair from Tiny Little New England College to stuff my arms with their promotional materials. "Boston University! We love you. Let me give you this DVD of my new band/comedian/really-bad-hypnotist." (I hate hypnotists.) I'm like, "Uh, sure, okay." The double-edged sword of working for a name school: everyone wants you. And when I say everyone, I mean promoters. Not men. Unfortunately.

Speaking of men, I'm going to make another plea to the male population of Boston: I'm very fun to watch football with, thus why you should date me. Example: they just showed a clip of the Broncos-Texans game, and the touchdown by Kyle Johnson where he finished it off with a little Western-like gallop jig. I turned to Caitlin, and rather dryly commented, "Ride 'em cowboy. Yee-haw."

These end-zone dances are getting a bit...elaborate? I admit to having one of the primary offenders, Terell Owens as the key to both of my fantasy football teams. I also admit that end-zone dances don't phase me or make me outraged, but that is probably because I'm of the generation who grew up with "Prime Time" in his...well, prime. My sister, as a little kid, thought Deion Sanders was cool because he danced. Back in 1995, when she was 8 and I was 13, we used to emulate the Deion dance--hop ball change to one side, hop ball change to the other.

Now on a completely unrelated note: They just showed clips from the Seahawks-Niners game (which the poor poor desolate Niners lost), and Greg Gumbel just commented, "Shawn Alexander had another awesome day." Having a "I-need-to-take-a-month-off-and-sleep-to-recover-from-the-past-five-years" moment and not recalling if I had him on one of my fantasy teams, I wondered aloud, "Am I sitting on Shawn Alexander?" Caitlin turned to me and said, "Ummm...." I looked at her worried face and calmed her, "On my fantasy team." Caitlin sighed. "Oh...I was going to say you've really lost it because you're sitting on the couch." (I didn't have Shawn Alexander, I had Stephen Alexander of the Lions.)

Okay, so I was wrong about my statements earlier in the season where I said that Doug Flutie should start over Drew Brees, and that the Chargers will never be super again. Um...they're proving me wrong on a weekly basis now. And Drew Brees is actually cute. My new question is, have the San Diego radio stations broken out the Super Chargers song yet? I sing that song in my head every single time the Chargers are mentioned. It was that ingrained in my brain during that whole lead-up to Super Bowl XXIX...which, if I haven't mentioned before, will be 10 years old this January. A whole decade ago. My Super Bowl XXIX sweatshirt (which I wear to bed still) is 10 years old. This freaks the heck out of me.

The Pats just beat the Rams. The Bills beat the Jets earlier today. The Niners lost miserably. Why can't all three of my teams win? Two out of three isn't bad, but the Niners need to step it up. According to various reports over the past few days, Kevin Barlow and Fred Beasley agree with me. But they're placing the blame on the wrong people. Don't blame each other, Niners--blame your front office. Oh, you can't, they pay you.

I will wrap this up--dinner and law reading awaits--but I would be remiss if I left the previous entry without a follow-up. I wrote that entry ("Why I Moved to Boston") at 2am after returning home from working Game 6 of the Red Sox-Yankees American League Championship Series. I honestly didn't think the Red Sox would win, so I knew I had to express the unique hopefulness of Boston before it came crashing down. I remember when the Bills made the Super Bowl when I was in elementary school and middle school, and I remember the pep rallies in school and the parties my friends and family would have, and how my mom and I went to Ames (a discount department store) to get Bills clothing to wear during the week leading up to the game. This was exactly like that, but magnified a hundred times.

If I will remember anything for the rest of my life, I will remember two feelings: I will remember being so nervous during Game 7 that I refused to move from the raffle table. (We had raffles during Game 7 of the ALCS and Game 4 of the World Series as part of our "alternative celebration" plans.) I was forced to go in during the bottom of the ninth because I had to start the raffle immediately after the game ended. I was facing the crowd, and at the last out, there was a collective leap and a huge blur in front of my eyes. It was the most amazing feeling ever, where so many people were so excited and then the collective thud when everyone's jump fell to the crowd. I can't explain it any better than that.

And then there was a week later, on Nickerson Field. By this point, I was bitter and cold, hoping that they would just win because I didn't want to have to sit out here another night and deal with the DJ and the tables and the catering--but then again it was the bottom of the ninth. And Mike, Danielle and I were standing in a line on the edge of the track facing the big screen. One of us said, "Can you believe this might actually happen?" We just watched, and watched and then all of a sudden Foulke threw it to first and the whole field either fell to their knees or hugged the person next to them or jumped in the air. All I remember is seeing at the screen and field and squealing, "Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh, they just won the World Series!" and Danielle, Mike and I looked at each other and were just floored. I couldn't think, "Don't let the kids leave for Kenmore." I couldn't think period. At that moment, the past three weeks of getting extensions on my papers and falling behind in life in general so I could show this on campus and make it something other than just watching it on TV for these students was all worth it. It was the most amazing experience of my life.

The year I moved to Boston was the year the Red Sox won the World Series. That's it--I'm here for life.

Why I Moved to Boston

While waiting for my ride back to my apartment tonight, three girls, arms linked, walked by me on Commonwealth Avenue, singing "Take Me Out to the Ballgame" horrendously off-tune. Cars were making their way down the street, beeping their horns in unintelligible tunes. Although it was 12:45am, there were groups of people around, taking to each other, backpacks stuffed with midterm studying that had just sat on their lap, not actually being studied, for the past four hours.

Everyone has shunned FM radio in their cars. No one has cared for the past two weeks if you like country, alt rock or teen pop, because music that is not either "Sweet Caroline," "Dirty Water," or "Tessie" does not exist to us right now.

Professors start their class by saying, "Luckily this class is scheduled till 7pm, meaning we have an hour to all get home--otherwise, I'd have to let you go early," and mean it. Professors who held class at 4pm on the first day of the ALDS ran back and forth to their offices to check the score and report it back to us.

I had three 19 year old guys willingly take my markers and make "Hit it Far, Millar" posters out of construction paper and hang them up on the wall of BU Central, our student lounge. I witnessed college guys--who despite wanting to appeal to girls, hate to seem anything remotely emotional--emotional. I sat next to groups of girls dissecting which pitcher throws the best curveball, and why trading Nomar could be considered a good idea. One of these conversations taking place by me one night turned into a football discussion, with one girl turning to another and saying, "You know who is grossly underrated as a quarterback? Steve Young. He did have the highest quarterback rating of all time, and he totally hooked up with Jerry Rice for enough touchdowns." And that girl, believe it not, wasn't me.

People who take Greek, Latin, French, and German are suddenly throwing the word "papi" around like they've been taking Spanish all this time. Jewish girls are wearing a t-shirt with a man who resembles Jesus--well, at least his hair does--and the words, "The Passion of the Johnny." Academics and their friends who consider professional sports the spawn of a non-denominational Satan are now wearing red and blue hats. Girls who had only watched Fox before for "The OC" now criticize the network's Yankee's bias. And there are always at least five of us in a room at any one time who crack up when they run that commercial where the doctor yells, 'You are risking a patient's life!"

It'll all end tomorrow night, maybe early Thursday morning. I'll pick up BU Central and the Ballroom one last time, say good night to my police detail one last time, say good night and good job to Chris and his people one last time, and carry my Gabe Kapler shirt wearing body to Commonwealth Ave and resign myself to finally going home despite the advanced hour. Sure, I'll work with them all again, probably as early as Thursday, but it won't be this. It won't ever be eating mediocre hot dogs and squishing 350 into a room for 300, stacking plastic chairs at 1am, while watching the preempted news. It won't be 300 something college students standing, clapping, cheering, rallying and hugging like they had Green Monster seats. Unfortunately, October only comes once a year, and it's nearly over, and there's no promise of annuality.

I have never experienced anything like it, and I doubt I ever will. I've been a sports fan since I was little, first with the Olympics, then with football, always with hockey, and now with baseball--and this has been the most fun. Even if it all ends tomorrow, these last two and a half weeks have been some of the most memorable of my life, and if I ever question why I moved to Boston, all I'll have to remind myself of is this.

Why I Got Stares on the T...and not just from sketchy skeevy men

The Life of a Sports Girl:

After supervising the Family Recreation program all morning and checking in on the Programming Council ticket sales for a hour or so (Gavin DeGraw, Oct. 14th!!!!), I walked down to Barnes and Noble. My aim was to get my mom's birthday gift (nun-related for the 4th year in a row.) I walked out with that and Patriot Reign, the new book about Bill Belichick and the Patriots that's mentioned everywhere you turn around there.

Now mind you, I'm wearing a cute bebe rhinestone top, low cut jeans, my sequined slippers, with my hair curly and half-up and I have my makeup all done, because that's just the way I am. And here I am, buying this book. They must of thought I was buying it for my non-existent boyfriend or something.

So I'm sitting on the T (the subway for those of you non-Bostonians), reading this book. I can't even count how many weird looks I got over my 15 minute T ride. It was like I had put my pants on backward or was wearing hot pink and red together. See, in Boston, you have a lot of girls who know sports. They can talk the talk. They know that Crennel is not a spice and they could pick Weis out of a crowd on a B Line train headed inbound at 7pm on a Friday night. They can even name offensive linemen. They'll appear with the Globe sports section, but there are doubts if they're actually reading it. But never, ever, ever do you ever find a girl devouring a book about sports. Especially a girly girl.

In the style of the little old crabby man on The Simpsons, "This is how I live my every daaaaayyyyyyy."
*****

I HAVE NFL NETWORK!

I just discovered this 20 minutes ago. Yes, our cable was installed almost two weeks ago, but I haven't been able to sit here and wander the channels until right now. And I have it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Okay, all my goals for the year have been fulfilled:

1) Graduate from Binghamton.
2) Move to Boston.
3) Date another guy before my 23rd birthday.
4) Get NFL Network.

I am never moving from this couch.

Ever.

And I must let you know, that within 10 minutes of me discovering that I have this channel, they showed a random Super Bowl highlight of Super Bowl XXIX, including the famous line of Steve Young's playoff speech: "...and no one can ever, ever, EVER take this away from us! EVER!" And then he practically makes out with the Lombardi trophy.

Does NFL Network have ESP? Did it want to properly welcome me?
******
Picks for the week:

Pittsburgh over Cincinnati - I'm all for rooting for people who are my age. I'm also all about people who have long, unpronounceable last names. Therefore, I'm all about Ben Rothlisberger. Also, my favourite fantasy running backs are on this team.

Indianapolis over Jacksonville - I hate the Colts.

Oakland over Houston --Oakland has an old but steady defense. It's a toss up for me, but I have to go with the old over the new in this one.

New England over Buffalo - Tear, tear, sniffle, sniffle. My Bills are going to get decimated by a much better team. To over-reference Pedro Martinez, the Patriots are the Bills daddy. Tom Brady's awesomely amazingly gorgeous, so it makes it a little better.

Philadelphia over Chicago - Chicago hasn't been memorable since Steve Walsh. I rest my case.

Cleveland over Washington - I watched Monday Night Football while writing my Perspectives on Higher Education paper. And maybe I missed something, but Gibbs seems to think that a NFL sideline is a frantic and messy NASCAR pit, and Gregg Williams needs to be banned from coaching. But I was under the influence of the defense of the American community college system, so I could be wrong.

Green Bay over the Giants - I am currently watching "In Their Own Words" on NFL Network, and the profile is on Brett Favre. The man has a wicked sense of humor. I'm learning to like him. My hatred of the Packers kind of delayed my realization that he's actually an amazingly good quarterback. But now the hatred clouds have lifted somewhat, and I appreciate him for what he is, which is not just the owner of a sexy Southern accent.

Carolina over Atlanta - Vick is stealing Young's thunder. But I'm happy for Jim Mora Jr. Liked his father as a coach, liked him as the 49ers defensive coordinator, and so far, he's not doing too bad of a job with the Falcons. But it's the Panthers at home, coming off a bye. I side with the Delhomme led Panthers in this one, even though Delhomme doesn't strike me as an interesting QB yet.

New Orleans over Arizona --Poor poor Denny Green.

Jets over Miami -- Who is the Dolphins third string QB? What would the harm be in starting him? It's not like they could do worse than Feely and Fielder.

Tennessee over San Diego -- Sing it with me: San Di-e-go, Super Chargers, San Di-e-go! Now realize that that was now a decade ago, and they will never be super again...unless they start Flutie. Note to anyone looking to gift shop for me: I would like a Chargers Flutie jersey before he gets forced into retirement. One I could wear (meaning it would have to be a boys size). I'll really never get it, but I'm just saying, if you can think of nothing else to get me for a holiday, get me that.

Hold on, wait, they're doing a montage of Favre's father and they're talking about last December's
Packers-Raiders game. Excuse me while I tear up.

Okay, back now.

Denver over Tampa Bay --aka, the two teams I know nothing about. But I've never really liked Jon Gruden, except for this quote from ESPN's Page 2 last year--warning: explicit quote ahead:

“Bucs head coach Jon Gruden, reveals that he lost his virginity at age 17, in South Bend, Indiana. 'I lost my virginity to the Notre Dame fight song,' Gruden says. 'There was a band?' asks Playboy. 'No, not even music,' Gruden replies. 'But it was in my mind."

I like that quote because it finally gave me the answer to what men are REALLY thinking about all the time. Not sex, but the Notre Dame fight song.

San Francisco over St. Louis - Upset special! Rattay is back, we always know the best 49ers QBs are always somewhat concussed, and everyone is down on Martz. First win of the season right here.

Baltimore over Kansas City - A win which will hopefully be leading me to another successful week in the MCFFLOAT (most competitive fantasy football league of all time, previously referred to as the MCFFLYCPEBI, but I've finally found a much better acronym.)

Last week: 10-4. This week...hmm...the fact that so many teams I've picked to lose are at home...I'll play it safe and say 8-6.

******
Mini-Oreos (aka, small little things that I just arbitrarily decided that I would call mini-oreos):

I was watching MTV Hits earlier, and again, I emphasize: Alicia Keys, he doesn't know your name because you are STALKING HIM. Thank you.

About my workaholicism: I am fully aware of it. I wish I didn't have to work all this much. But I do, and it's going to be a part of my life for just a few more months. So bare with me.

Legal Issues in Higher Education is a hard class, but it's so worth it. I love that class--the three hours just fly by as the 20 of us just debate and discuss the cases. And the cases are interesting to read, even if you don't know all of the terminology.

No Bingo Homecoming because I have to work Boston University's showings of the Red Sox playoff games. I get to arrange them all and everything. It's a major task, and I hope to do a great job, because if I can really pull this off, it'll look awesome in my portfolio. I'll miss you guys though, and I'm sure Homecoming will be fantastic. But this is one of my dream jobs, and I really want to give it my best shot.

Speaking of Dream Jobs: The right two people were booted off Dream Job this week. It got moved to Tuesday nights at midnight, so I can watch it. However, we are now down to one female representative, and it's only the third week, and I don't think she'll hang on much longer. But in happier news, there are some total hotties this season (both Jasons in particular), although I doubt anyone can top the loveableness of the original Dream Job Mike.

Speaking of total hotties, if anyone wants to set me up with any nice, sports-loving, my age or older, happy, and all-in-all lovable Bostonian men, please let me know. I'm all for it.

And I finish with my quote of the week: "Collinsworth asked Marino, Carter and Carter's eyebrows the following question: 'If you could take one QB in a game for all the marbles, who would you take: Manning, Brady, McNabb or Favre?' Marino thinks about it, then takes Manning, and rightly so -- famous QBs who can't win anything when it matters always stick together." -Bill Simmons

Christmas in September: The Dolphins, Week 3 picks, and a Plea to the NHL

The following thought came to me while walking to the T Friday morning, and I had to share:

It's Christmas in September, thanks to the Miami Dolphins.

Da-da-da-dum.

Thank you, thank you, I'll be here all week.

In case you are football illiterate, the Dolphins have always had this tendency to really...how do I put this kindly...suck around December. Several sportswriters always make reference to the annual December downfall of the Dolphins (and not just because it's excellent alliteration.) But this year, they've decided to not have actual ready-for-the-NFL quarterbacks, and therefore, their suckiness has come along four months early. Nice to all of us of fans of other teams in the AFC East, because it means the constant threat of "this actually is the Dolphins' year" doesn't exist. Great news to us Bills fans--it means we actually might be better than someone this year. Squishing the fish shouldn't be too hard this year, providing Bledsoe maintains the limited quarterbacking capacity he has left. It might actually be a good game...and by good, I mean, "evenly matched up." I didn't actually mean the teams were good. Oh no, not at all.

But is this game this weekend? No. Do I get to get phone calls from my parents talk about squishing fish and reminiscing about the infamous "Mom causing Dan Marino's freak devastating ACL injury in 1993" incident, which led my father for years following to ask us all when we hurt ourselves, "Oh, is it your anterior cruciate ligament?" thinking that was the most witty remark he could ever make? (I don't even know if it was an ACL injury to Marino--but in Hasenauer lore it is.)

No.

It is a bye for the Pats and Bills. Unfortunately, it is not for the Niners. Can the Niners' go on a permanent bye until Donahue and the rest of his front office decides that in football, money is for spending, not sitting on? Great, you're rebuilding your team with draft picks. Fine. That's a commendable way to go. However...if you don't have veterans, who are the draft picks supposed to emulate? Sure, they have...like one veteran. Jeremy Newberry, who is now out indefinitely, and who wasn't the best offensive lineman ever in the first place (he's the one who missed the block that allowed Aeneas Williams to sack Steve Young to end his career) counts as their like one veteran. Tim Rattay? Not a veteran. Okay, wait, they have a really good cornerback guy that I read about in ESPN the Magazine...and he's not such the young chicken. Oh okay. I was wrong. The Niners have two veterans. My mistake.

Mind you, due to work, I have yet to watch a good amount of football yet this season, and we are entering week 3. This is a travesty. However, I have set aside this Sunday to wake up at 10, eat breakfast, then sit in bed and watch Steve Young out yell Michael Irvin for two hours while Chris Berman screams random things about frozen tundras. It's good stuff. For those unaware, that's the equivalent of watching a debate between that good looking and amazingly successful guy everyone hates because he just knows he's right and has some kind of debate training to back it up and a frantic drug addict who insists that he's right despite the fact that he couldn't tell you that 2 + 2 = 4, all while your middle aged goofy uncle attempts to referee. Oh, and after that I'll watch some football games, all while writing a paper about the "double edged sword" of community colleges. Ahh, some things never change: Sundays = football and homework. Well, until next year, when it equals just football, which will be amazingly weird.

So providing that I've neglected picking games so far this season due to my busy schedule and my need to devote appropriate time to my fantasy standings, I give you my picks for Week 3. I may be rusty, so let me feel it out this weekend.

St. Louis over New Orleans (I am the most iffy about this one)

Pittsburgh over Miami (Go Class of '04!)

Minnesota over Chicago (I hate the Vikings. I pity the Bears. However, I am realistic.)

Giants over Cleveland (Hate Garcia. The Browns also lost like their whole offense last week, so Garcia must be lamenting that he would of had more offensive weapons right now on the Niners than he does right now with the Browns.)

Atlanta over Arizona (Vick = A cocky Steve Young. Arizona = worst team ever except for Fitzgerald and the fact that their coach is Dennis Green. My family is partial to Green, and I don't really know why, but we always have been.)

Indianapolis over Green Bay (This is Manning's league right now, whether he deserves it or not.)

Baltimore over Cincinnati (and if they don't, I'm screwed fantasy wise)

Philadelphia over Detroit (Love ya Mooch. However, I adore the anchors of both my fantasy teams just a bit more, and after Monday night, I am convinced that I made the right decision with them.)

Tennessee over Jacksonville (Second least sure about. I hope I get to see some of this one--I don't know what either team is really like this year, and seeing them is ten times better than reading about them after a while.)

Kansas City over Houston (The Chiefs are due. They aren't as bad as everyone is making them out to be. They just have senile, weirdo, or both coaches and coordinators.)

Denver over San Diego (Bring back Flutie!!!!!!!!!!!! Come on, you know Flutie would beat Plummer. You know Flutie would beat Drew Brees for that matter. Or maybe it's just I who will still be picking Flutie when he's 60 and doing Canadian infomericals.)

Seattle over San Fransisico (Sniffle, sniffle, tear. Dorsey's hot. Rattay's not bad. Why must they lose?)

Oakland over Tampa Bay (Even though Oakland got rid of Rick Mirer. He's gone to a better place, and that would be backing up Joey Harrington. Sigh...where did the Class of 1993 go wrong?)

Washington over Dallas (Feel better soon, Brunell. Although I have been told never to pick against Parcells, I think it's safe to this year.)

I think I'll be lucky if I go 7-7 this week. It takes a week for me to get into the swing of the season.
******
Welcome to the SAO:

Two weekends ago, I had to take the student group I advise on a retreat, and the car ride activity in the van I was in was to name your Top 5. Of course, I being the new intern, I was one of the first targets. Of the top of my head I named:

1) Steve Young
2) Mark Brunell
3) Tom Brady
4) Jerome Ignilia
5) Gabe Kapler

Not that those are really my top 5, but they were what I could come up with at the time. My boss laughed at me, and when we were talking about it in the office a few days later, said, "To name her top 5, all you do is just name 3-4 NFL quarterbacks and then fill the rest with two random athletes."

I beg to differ. Gabe Kapler is not a random athlete. He's the hottest baseball player ever to exist in the history of the game. That's definitely not random.

******
A short plea to the NHL:

Dear NHL players, owners, and involved parties;

I have recently become single again, therefore I need you to start playing so that I can be easily distracted from my single status. I also have become somewhat attached to writing papers while listening to NHL Radio online, and I fear without that to listen to, my grades will diminish. While I understand I'm probably the last one holding out hope left in America, and that this further proves what a Canadian I really am, I hope that you all take my reasons into account.

Thank you for your time and consideration.

-Katherine

******
So I take the bus to work about 60% of the time now. And they have these prerecorded announcements that order us, the T riders, to "report any suspicious activity to the driver," like the subway does.

Have you ever taken a bus in Boston? If I followed those instructions, I would be sitting in the driver's lap the duration of my 20 minute ride.

******
Personal Note of the Week: I am 3 for 3 in "not only keeping all composure while being dumped, but in keeping the guy as a friend." I need to teach classes in this. I am single handedly transforming the stereotype of the dumped girl, one breakup of mine at a time.

I'll give you secret #1, free of charge.
1) Have six tons of work due the next day.
It's saved me quite a few times, if not all.

******
I have yet to catch the new season of Dream Job because I work Tuesday nights, and ESPN is not repeating it yet, but it doesn't surprise me that the two top contestants right now are Syracuse alums. When I went to the auditions back in July, the guy I thought would definitely make it from Boston was a Syracuse alum. They're extremely well-spoken and definitely know what they're doing. This guy had resumes, a tape of his work, references, detailed writing examples...when we hadn't been asked to bring anything. It was hard core.

It also sounds like the women stink this year. I will make no comment on that, except that you could of avoided that by picking any girl from Boston. It makes me not wonder if they don't want the women to succeed...but I'll wait to pass judgment until I can actually see an episode.
Realistically, could I ever make it on Dream Job? Heck no. I mean, in case you haven't noticed, I stutter. Not the best trait for a sportscaster to have. So I don't mind sitting back and watching.

If I ever get to catch an episode, that is.

******
Signs that my life is wicked different than it was five months ago:

It's sad when you get up at 8:30, and you consider that sleeping in.

I can shop at Sephora.

My jeans are collecting dust because I can't wear them to work.

I can go shopping at the Pru and at Copley on my free Friday nights. (I love Back Bay on Friday and Saturday nights. It's the epitome of what I dreamed my life in Boston would be like.)

But some things never change: I work either Friday or Saturday night every weekend, and it's September, and I'm battling laryngitis.

Till next time...

The Super Post: Young's 8 Best Moments, Me & Fantasy Football, and Other Stuff...

While watching the Patriots-Panthers preseason game last Saturday night, I saw a commercial for the "Super Bowl Collection"--Super Bowls I-X and XI-XX in 5 DVD collections. Well, if they have up to 20, they've got to have plans for at least up through 30, so I scrambled online to Amazon.com to see what I could find out. Good news: Super Bowls XXI-XXX comes out the first week of November. Score! Just in time for my birthday and the holidays. I wrote in my profile that the only thing that would beat this would be 5 DVDs of just Steve Young.

Hmmm....

If Bill Simmons was allowed to program a whole weekend of NBA TV, during which he did a 24 hour Larry Bird marathon, I think I am allowed to give a list of Steve Young moments I want on DVD or on a weekend of NFL Network (well, provided I have NFL Network at the time it airs. That's my next goal in life. 1) Graduate college. Done. 2) Move to Boston. Done. 3) Get NFL Network. Still working on it.)

So I thought about it as I went to bed. And here's a partial list.

1) Super Bowl XXIX. A no-brainer. (And can I just say that while I was looking on Amazon for the DVDs, I finally finally found the 1994 San Francisco 49ers season yearbook video. You know, the collection they make for every Super Bowl Champion? I think the Patriots one is called "3 Games to Glory II" or something like that. I should know this by heart--that and "Still We Believe: The Red Sox Story" is for sale absolutely everywhere. Well, anyway, I finally found it--I didn't own it originally because I was too young to order it when it came out. Guess what I'm buying after I finish buying my textbooks?)

2) The Deflection Return. I forget the team it was against, but it's when he threw the ball, and two defenders jumped up in tandem to deflect it. They succeeded...but who ended up catching it?

Steve Young.

For years, my father has defended Young in any discussion about great quarterbacks by saying one sentence. "Only one quarterback that I can remember has ever caught his own pass."

3) The Run Against the Vikings: October 30, 1988--This is when Young was still a backup. Legend has it that this run was the first time Chris Berman said, "He could....go....all....the...way!!!!!" I am unsure as to if this is true, but when I was in middle school, that run was used all the time in highlight reels. Of course, I didn't see it when it happened: I was all of 6 years old and was a tad more concerned with first grade at the time.

4) The Spike Against The Bears, NFC Divisional Playoff, January 1995--I mentioned this in my 5 Hottest Quarterbacks entry in January. The Bears just were steamrolled over by the Niners, and it was the first and I think only time I ever saw Steve Young spike the ball after he ran it in for a touchdown.

5) "There's Joy in Mudville" The 94 NFC Championship Game-- If you lived in Western NY in January 1995, even if you hated the Niners, you loved this game, because it denied the evil Cowboys a third straight Super Bowl. I still have the newspaper from the day after that game, and the lead headline of the sports section reads, "THERE'S JOY IN MUDVILLE," commenting on the soggy state of Candlestick Park during that game.

6) Monday Night Football Opener 1994, Niners vs. Raiders--This is when Jerry Rice broke some record that I'm blanking on against the Raiders. The Raiders were never even in it. I loved that game. I have the newspaper clippings from he day after that game somewhere in my mess of a room (I just moved into a new apartment. Don't ask me where anything is.)

7) The Comeback II: Niners v. Packers, 1999: I remember screaming at the television with my entire family. We couldn't believe they had finally beaten the Packers in the playoffs. I had given up on that game too--my father had actually walked into the kitchen, resigned that the Niners had lost. And all of a sudden, Owens made that catch and they won. Great ending. Young's last playoff victory.

8) Any Niners game where James Brown broke in during the third quarter to say, "With the Niners up a gazillion to 3 against some really bad team, we are now switching you to a more competitive contest." I only want those because I never got to see the rest of those games because we were switched out of them.

Those are the immediate 8 that I think of off the top of my head. There are definitely more, I just need more time and more resources around me to figure them out.

Consequently, this past week, ESPN Page 2 named Young's 1994 season sixth out of the 100 greatest individual seasons in the past 25 years. Right on, ESPN. He was the highest ranked football player. Argue what you may, but I think Steve Young takes whatever accolades he can get, considering he'll probably have to wait a while to get into the Hall of Fame (throwing my famous Hall of Fame trip off by a few years), so let him have this little one.

***
So I have become a fantasy football junkie. For the first time in my life, I have been invited to play--and not just in one league, but in two. I am going into this hard-core. I am determined for this not to be a repeat of my fantasy baseball league, where I lost all hope back in June. I haven't won since the end of May. This is because I barely know baseball. I know enough...but not enough to really succeed. I gave it a good shot though.

But the thing with fantasy football is...well, I know football. Now, had I done fantasy football when I was 15, I would of seriously kicked everyone in the world's butt, as I regularly did with football picks during my entire adolescence (and as I still routinely do now that I'm entering my mid-20s--eek, in 4 months I will be in my mid-20s. Freaky moment right there.) So this should ultimately be far less embarrassing than baseball was.

Out of my two teams, I have to say the Boston Bearcats outdoes The Bearcats (okay, I lack all imagination with team names.) And this is because of one reason: I drafted one far later than the other--aka, I had more time to research. Unfortunately, The Bearcats is in the most competitive fantasy football league you could probably ever be in (otherwise known as the MCFFLYCPEBI....or not.) I swear, the commish (one of my good friends from Ithaca) should probably change the league's name to that. But not to fret--the core of both my teams is exactly the same: McNabb and T.O. My dad and I agreed that has the makings of an excellent team. It also could completely tank, but let's hope they're as prolific as they are being made out to be. Both my defenses totally rock as well: New England in one, Baltimore in the other. Speaking of Patriots, I also have David Givens, i.e. the only football player Marsha knows because she was forced to watch the Super Bowl and thought he was the hottest. He's also a pretty good wide receiver. I know, I know, WRs don't make fantasy teams, running backs do. Well, I do have to say I'm set with The Bearcats on the RB front: Bettis and Staley. Hate the Steelers, love their RBs. Anyone whose nickname is "The Bus" gets on my team.

So as of Thursday, we will see if I can contest in the land of fantasy football after a good two years of wanting to be a part of a league. Of course, I'll still pick games. I need to back up my ego on something.

***
On the non-football front, the last week has been nuts. I moved into a new apartment and started my graduate assistantship with the Student Activities Office at Boston University. So far it is an awesome position--the office, the professional staff and the students are great. We went on a retreat to the Cape and it was very informative and a lot of fun. I just have to get used to not being student staff, but on par with the professionals. It can be very confusing. I'm still working for my Boston Mom at PERD (my boss there, Barbara, has been amazing this summer--she has become like my best friend in Boston, or at least my second mother) as well. I love my jobs...except for the florist. That is on the backburner. I'll be there when I have time...which looks to be never.

My new apartment is nice as well, and Caitlin and I are busy reliving freshmen year at Ithaca. Caitlin's first day in the apartment, we had crab rangoon. It's just like three years ago...except we're 22, not 18, we're in an apartment in Chestnut Hill, not Tracy's and I room in Terrace 5 and we're in grad school, not undergrad. Oh, and the crab rangoon is not from Jade Garden on the Commons, but Chang's House on Commonwealth Ave.

I should mention my two weeks of Olympics devotion--even though my Summer Olympic devotion is far far less involved than my Winter Olympics devotion is. For one, I was way disappointed in the makeup of the women's gymnastics team--no "Scrunchie Girl." Plus, I honestly don't think Annia Hatch deserved a silver medal on vault. She's a consistent vaulter, but not an awesome vaulter. In the individual vault event, there were at least two, three people better than she was. Plus, how can you leave off Holly Vise? It was just a weirdly put together team, but they did get it right with Courtney Kupets and Carly Patterson. Swimmers are fun to watch, but since I can't swim all that well, I can't relate. And that's about it. Give me figure skating, hockey, and bobsledding over softball, beach volleyball and basketball any day.

I don't know when I'll get the chance to post again, but I'll try my best to make it soon!

Notes From Work...

I don't want to do my homework, therefore here are some short little things I've been thinking lately...

-What's going on with all these football players suddenly getting busted for drug use? The Ricky Williams thing was shocking, but didn't phase me all too much. But this Quincy Carter thing--I'm sorry, if he was stupid enough to be using drugs while being coached by Parcells, then he doesn't have enough brain capacity to be allowed to play football. That's like a 15 year old girl talking about having premartial sex in front of a old nun. You just don't do that.

-I honestly love the listing of all the At-Bat songs on ESPN's Page 3. I hate Page 3 usually, because it's just a silly concept most of the time. I mean, I don't read ESPN for entertainment news. I read it for sports news and commentary. If I want entertainment news, I'll go to Yahoo or something. Not ESPN.

But anyway, despite me not really being knowledgeable about any baseball besides the Blue Jays, Red Sox, Yankees and Orioles (you'd think I'd know the Devil Rays, but no, never made the connection that they were all in the same division until recently. They have no connection to me. All those teams do: I grew up in Rochester, where we were the farm team for the Orioles; I love all things Canada, therefore have always rooted for the Blue Jays; I went to school with all Yankees fans (except for Brian, the lone Mets fan I knew at Binghamton); and I currently live in Boston and therefore am obsessed with the Red Sox. Tampa Bay has no play into that theme whatsoever. But anyway, I'm saying, despite me not knowing a thing beyond those four teams, I find this list of at-bat music highly amusing. One person on every team has "Yeah" by Usher. Some teams have that token alternative Christian music person. Then you have your token country guy who plays Tim McGraw (who I'm guessing has got to be the country artist of choice for baseball players, seeing who his father was and all). Then you have the 70s rock dude. Every few teams has someone with obscure salsa music. The rest is all popular rap.

Why do I bring this up? Well, it got me thinking. I was explaining to Kit not too long ago that I had this thing where I listened to Ben Folds' "Rock This..." from his live album before I had to take a test or interview or something high pressure of that sort. It made me laugh hysterically that I was trying to get pumped up by listening to Ben Folds. I love the guy, he's second only to Barenaked Ladies on my favourite artist scale, but he is not pump up music. But this song was to me. I don't know. So I made Kit listen to it once, and she laughed. I don't think she added it to her pump up music repertoire, but maybe she did and just hasn't told me yet. I wouldn't say that that Ben Folds song would be my "at-bat" music, which led me to thinking--what would be my "at-bat" music?

I still don't know.

Here's where ya'll come in (all three of you left that actually read my blog.)

What would be your at-bat music? Or for those of you not as athletically-interested, what music would you have playing as you entered that big interview, that major test, that life-changing performance? E-mail me at katherinehas@yahoo.com and let me know, or IM me the rare times my computer in the apartment stays online. With Research Methods quickly coming to a close, I'll have time to write more, and therefore, will be able to post and comment on your choices. I'll also be asking everyone who doesn't read my blog, so we'll get some new names and faces as well.

Call it random audience participation time. I try to make this engaging. Whether or not I succeed is unknown.
****************************************
Later this weekend (because I didn't post the link to this entry till Sunday because I was hanging with cows and tractors while learning various drinking games. Long story. Definitely fun times though.)

So for some flashback fun, read this entry of my blog from last year. A year ago this weekend, I was in Boston, trying to decide if I should move here or not.

And here I am.

Things are 65 times different than I imagined them. As much as I loved BU, inside I thought it was a given that I'd be a Harvard-ite. I thought I'd be working as a RD to get through grad school. There's a couple more things that I won't go into that I thought would happen that didn't. Moving here was ten times harder than I thought--there were several times in the past three months that I've wanted to pack it all in and go home. But that's natural--you can't leave everything you know and not expect that to happen.

But I'm extremely happy. Busy, stressed out, overworked, insomnia-ridden--but happy. I have great jobs, I'm thisclose to being done with school forever, I have an awesome cat that sleeps with me at night, and while I don't have a lot of friends yet, the ones I do have are amazingly awesome (especially the one that dragged me out to tractor country this weekend). I get to watch the Red Sox on TV, pass Fenway Park on the way to work, and talk sports with everyone because everyone gets them.

It's amazing that a year has gone by, and I'm here.

I just thought I'd share.

"Can I Get Some Information, Please?"
(quote courtesy of Paula Abdul, who I wanted to be when I was 9)

What is the purpose of a sports journalist? To report given information and place it in its correct context, or to report what information isn't given and expand on it?

Wednesday, the Rochester Democrat and Chronicle devoted two articles (http://www.democratandchronicle.com/sports/bills/0804DO54EOD_sports.shtml and http://www.democratandchronicle.com/sports/bills/0804DO54EO6_sports.shtml) to Bills tackle Mike Williams, a second year player who had missed most if not all of the offseason workouts due to a "personal situation." As per the information given by the Bills, a close member of his family died. Approaching the current training camp in good ol' Rochester, Williams was demoted to the second string by Mike Mularkey because he had missed so much work in the off season. This was big news--Williams has always been toted as one of GM Tom Donahoe's "good" draft picks (as opposed to Willis McGahee and the yet-to-be-determined pick of Losman as the new Jim Kelly, just several years removed.) Mularkey was making waves as a new coach by demoting such a player.

Williams was absent from practice on Tuesday, which incurs a fine from Mularkey. The Bills information said that he missed due to a "personal problem."

These two articles on Wednesday infer that although Williams has suffered personal tragedy and family hardship recently, his absence was due to a lack of work ethic and therefore an oversight by Donahoe. Williams is a "38 million dollar backup" now, it proclaimed. They should of drafted someone else, in particular Byant McKinnie, instead. Will Donahoe ever get anything right?

In my own opinion, no, Donahoe will never get anything right because he's highly overrated and worked only well with the defensive-obsessed Cowher-headed Steelers, who never ever had an offensive bright spot in the 90s (and yes, I remember Kordell Stewart.) But that's besides the point. Williams indeed was back on Wednesday, ready to work after having to attend to family business the day before. His work ethic still intact, he told reporters that everything was fine, and he understands why he was fined.

However, the reporters at the Democrat and Chronicle decided not to report solely the information the Bills were giving them, and hypothized that Williams has just become lazy and happy to sit on his laurels, much like the recently retired Ricky Williams, and it was just a mistake by Donahoe, who might actually be the weak spot on this oh-so-promising-over-the-past-three-years-franchise. And their two stories (not just one--two--one presented as opinion but not attributed to any author on the website, and the other as a training camp report) revolved around this non-information.

And I, being the doormat that I am, ate it up.

I mean, I was raised by a lifelong Steelers hater. You blame Donahoe for something, well, I'm right on board. He's from the Steelers, therefore he is evil. So I bought into this idea. I rely on the good ol' D&C for my Bills news. If they are saying that Mike Williams could be going the way of Ricky Williams, they must have good reason.

And then you find out all of the information by reading what the Boston Globe is saying, and what ESPN.com is saying, and then you realize that those two articles were based more on inference than information.

What is the job of a sports journalist? Is it to explain to us, the non-sports-journalist, those of us who would love to do that but got derailed upon the way, what is going on in that sport? Or is it to take advantage of us who trust the journalist to give us the facts by "explaining" a situation by inference? We, the average reader of the sports section (a demographic which is constantly changing), are not "in the know" or smart enough to place pieces together and come to our own conclusions, so the reporters at the D&C have decided that they are going to use the information not given and present it as the only information.

Bill Simmons, in one of his many loving tributes (sarcasm) to Nomar this week, said this about Boston sports journalists: "Many of the columnists care more about stirring things up than making sports more fun to follow, which is the whole reason you should be covering sports in the first place." These two articles were more about stirring up rumors about the "truth" the Bills were "hiding" from us, than the truth.

And you know this isn't that big of a deal. It's a fine line between the facts that are given and what is the truth and what needs to be shared and just overall ethics of giving thousands of readers information. Disputes like this happen often--this is why freedom of the press is an awesome idea. We need several different outlets so that we the reader can come up with our own conclusions. However, it's sad in this instance because it is obvious that Mike Williams suffered a catastrophic family event and now a couple hundred guys in Rochester who think that Bob Matthews is the be-all-end-all of all sports media (sorry, personal jab--I listen to his show when I'm at home, but it's only to argue with everything he says. My father always wants me to call in, but I'm too shy) think that he didn't show up to practices because he's just another Ricky Williams--a spoiled and free-spirited 20-something who got rich too quick and now wants to rest on his laurels. The guy, as per the actual information provided by him and the Bills, is going through a tough time and doesn't deserve us thinking he's a waste of space--physically and cap money wise.

I adore football season, but it's back to studying research methods...

The Name Game

So, as you may or may not have noticed, my life has returned to that insomniac-like workaholic state that I thrived in back in Binghamton, thus me and my computer have little to no private time anymore. Tis a typical day in the life of grad school Kat:

6am-Wake up, get ready.
7:15am-Leave for work.
7:45am-8am--Get to work at PERD
12-12:30--Lunch, aka, I walk like a mad woman up and down the BU campus running errands
1-Back to PERD
2:30-3:30--Somewhere around there, leave PERD for the day.
And here's where it varies:
Mondays, Wednesdays, Thursdays:
3:30-Grab a snack.
4-6:30 Go to Perspectives on Inquiry, aka the most frustrating class ever because I actually have to work at it, seeing that I have no basis in any of this educational psych/research stuff (Educational Psych at Ithaca three years ago doesn't count because I don't remember anything but watching a 10 minute segment of Kindergarden Cop.)
6:30-7 Wait in line to copy readings for class.
7-8 Get home. Seeing that I need to exercise and have no other time to do so, I usually walk either from Kenmore (where my class is) to St. Mary's Street, where I'll board the C line home, or I will just book it from Kenmore to Cleveland Circle, which is 2.8 miles. I get it done in approximately 45 minutes, sometimes 50 if Coolidge Corner is really annoying (me and that intersection just don't get along.)
8-Eat dinner.
8:30--Call Caitlin and the Other Kat for "Apartment Search 2004" updates.
9:15--Other phone calls.
10:30--Read for class.
1am-Go to sleep.
Tuesdays and Fridays I go to work at the florist from 3-8, then the rest of the schedule is the same. On the weekends, I work at the store, do more homework and hang out with my favourite Bostonians.

Add to this the following:
-In a week, my lunch time is gone temporarily, as I took on a job as a Recreation Assistant for the Greater Boston Youth Symphony Orchestra Camp. I play on the playground with kids for two hours a day for two weeks and get paid handsomely to do so. Gotta love it.
-I interviewed for a grad assistantship on Thursday at the Student Activities Office. I'm crossing my fingers that I'll get it--I'd get paid to be Miss Extracurricular. Wouldn't that be awesome?

So that's where I am. And I'm exhausted as all get out. My mom rarely hears from me anymore, as do the majority of you. I'm sorry. With the fall coming, I'll soon find a routine and be able to balance it all better. I only have to be crazy for one more year. Then I'll get to do normal things, like read, watch TV and breathe.

Here's some random notes of the week:

--Dear Flower Customers of the World;
Thank you for giving me a job. However, just a few notes so that my blood pressure can stay its normal too-low self:
-Yes, that is the price of roses. No, that's not just for Valentine's Day. Yes, that's the everyday price. No, not many places have them cheaper. Roses are expensive. I don't control the prices. If you want them, suck it up and pay up.
-Okay, you're in a hurry. That's fine. However, if you want me to make you a unique bouquet with "nothing cheesy like those stupid carnations," please allow me 5-10 minutes. Even the people I work with who have been doing this for as long as I've been alive take 5-10 minutes. It's not as easy as it looks.
-There is nothing wrong with carnations. Well, I mean, if you want to impress a girl, guys, don't get carnations. But any other time? They're fine. They aren't ugly. They bring back good memories of all of my dance recitals, where I would get bouquets of carnations from my parents and Grandma.
-Don't tell me "don't make a ugly bouquet." Do you think that's my aim? Really now.
Keep these in mind and all of our lives will be 17 times easier. Thank you!
Sincerely,
Kat

-I had to update a database at work this week to cross list the names of the parents who register for our programs with their children's names. I had to shuffle through two-three years of back registration forms to do so. Now, the forms were indexed by child's name. The database is indexed by parent's name. I had to match up each child with their parent, and add that information to the database. Easy enough, right?

Wrong.

Thank you, feminist theory and increasing divorce rates for making this task 10 times harder than it had to be. I love women's rights as much as everyone else , and I regularly exercise the rights that this movement has fought for. However, when I get married, I will take my husband's name, and now not just because of the impossiblness of my own last name. And my children will have my husband's name. And I will try my darnest not to get divorced. Some poor office worker will appreciate it. Trust me. (Hyphenating is fine too. I couldn't hyphenate because I have the longest name ever to begin with. As long as some aspect of the name is shared between child and parent, it's all good.)

Also, I recognize that everyone wants their child to stand out, be unique, express your and the other parent's ideals and personality. However, remember that your child has to live with this name for their whole life. In addition, they might have high aspirations to be something with a lot of prestige. Please consider these factors before naming your child, otherwise in a few years some poor office worker is just going to look at your child's name and say, "That poor kid."

-Steve Beurlein retired on Wednesday as a Carolina Panther. He was one of the original "Steve Quarterbacks." The "Steve Quarterbacks" were a group of QBs in the early-mid 90s that my Dad and I followed simply because he and them shared a first name. This is where my Steve Young fandom came from, seeing that he was the founding QB of the group. The group consisted of Young, Beurlein, Walsh, DeBerg, and later on, McNair. It expanded to include honorary members Christie and Tasker, who were not QBs, but played offense for the Bills, and I'm sure Dad wishes Doug Flutie's name was really Steve Flutie. But alas, some things are not meant to be.

But Beurlein's retirement means that McNair is the only active Steve left. Christie, one of the honoraries, is currently a free agent in his 15th season, meaning he's sitting in limbo, praying that some kicker freakishly tears a tendon. It's a sad day for my father and I. The Steves are gone. My childhood is now completely over.

So here's to you, Mr. Beurlein, the second to last official Steve to retire. You still hold all Panthers' passing records despite the work of Jake Delhomme last season. You were a journeyman, and have the distinction of existing in the NFL for just about as many years as my sister has been alive.

-Peter King has returned from vacation. Bill Simmons graces us with writing nearly everyday. I am a happy girl. And I contend that I have never written Simmons, meaning that non of the letters in the last two week's "Fe-mail Bags" (http://sports.espn.go.com/espn/page2/story?page=simmons/040730) are from me. But read them over. They sure sound like it, don't they? I'm glad I'm not alone, despite the fact that it negates a bit of my uniqueness.

-I will never get sick of the smell of ice rinks. I walk in Walter Brown Arena every morning and take a deep breath and I swear for that second, all is right in the world. Another childhood dream fulfilled: work in an ice arena. It's downright sad--I still get nervously excited sometimes from that smell, just like I did when my parents would take me to the War Memorial to see a hockey game or skating show. I remember being a child and getting so excited when I'd walk in to an arena that I would tremble. I'm crazy, I know. But that's my almost-Canadian childhood for you.

--I wish I had good stories from the DNC, but the only thing I have is that I walked by Lewis Black from the Daily Show on Wednesday because he was taping a piece outside of the Tsai Center on campus. The Daily Show was taping on campus all week, but because I'm a workaholic, I didn't get to see it. :-( I didn't venture downtown at all this week. I stayed in Brookline, and only was able to catch Kerry's acceptance on TV. Darn no cable in my room.

--Best Baseball Game Ever: Last Saturday's Red Sox-Yankees battle. I was in the car when Varitek scuffled with A-Rod. Of course. The biggest fight of the year and I'm not in front of the TV. My friend Brendon and I were screaming at the radio. "HIT HIM! EJECT A-ROD!!!! GET JETER INVOLVED!! Come on!!!!!" Then there was my, "No, no, DON'T HIT KAPLER AND RUIN HIS GORGEOUS BOD!!!!!!!!!" Then there was the, "Why the HECK are we not in front of the TV?!?!" We ran into his apartment the minute the car was parked and turned on the game, waiting in intense anticipation for the replay. Then there was the whole winning home run in the ninth...AMAZING GAME. I love Boston, because everyone was listening to the game, and everyone was yelling at the radio and screaming at their TVs, and you could hear it all. We may be Democrat, we may be Republican, we may be college students or professionals, we may be born here or transplanted, but we all are united in that one common cause: The Yankees are evil and need to be stopped.

I'm officially a baseball fan. Hardcore.

Just in time for football season.

Hmm......