Dear Charleston Southern,
If you did notice the return address for this missive you might already know that the above salutation is given tongue firmly implanted in cheek. I am a little upset over CSU dropping Men's Tennis from the athletic program. Alas, poor men's tennis, I knew them well . . . but the program is yet another vicitm of the need to supply more football scholarships in order for that program to try to become competitive. The infamous NCAA rule known as "Title IX" dictates that scholarships for women's sports cannot be out of proportion with men's sports (I don't know if the ration is supposed to be 50:50--you're on the Internet, you look it up!). What this means is that if CSU wanted to add football scholarships (think they do?), they would also have to add scholarships for women's sports. To do this without raising more money means that another men's program has to lose scholarships or even lose the program altogether. Ergo men's tennis and their sacrificed forefathers men's soccer. Who could have seen this coming?
Why, thank you, I will toot my own horn. Take a look at this . . .
http://www.flickr.com/photos/27726669@N05/2613293229/sizes/l/
Hate to be a party pooper, but please cancel my reservation for the Miami trip.
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Monday, June 23, 2008
Fantasy vs. Reality
I have been playing fantasy baseball for a number of years now. It finally got me into trouble.
A couple of weeks ago Trisha and I were watching the Braves play the Cubs. The Braves were getting shut out by the Cubs, thanks to pitching by Ryan Dempster. In the top of the 7th inning Corky Miller came up to pinch hit for Atlanta. He crushed, as Harry Carry would say, "a high . . . fly ball" to left field. At the ball flew I said--out loud, "C'mon, catch that." Well, Corky Miller's shot was caught . . . by a Cubs fan in the left field stands, but my supplication was also caught . . . by my wife.
"What did you say?"
"Uhh . . . nothing . . ."
"No, you said, 'C'mon, catch that.' What did you mean by that?"
I was busted. I had been rooting for Ryan Dempster to play well because he was on my fantasy baseball team. If Corky Miller's ome run had been a fly ball out instead, Dempster would have earned me a complete game shutout, rare points in fantasy baseball.
Trisha's response to this was a rather angry, "This is not fatasy baseball; this is REAL baseball!" as she pointed at the television.
All I could do was confess my wrongdoing and beg forgiveness.
I have been playing fantasy baseball for a number of years now. It finally got me into trouble.
A couple of weeks ago Trisha and I were watching the Braves play the Cubs. The Braves were getting shut out by the Cubs, thanks to pitching by Ryan Dempster. In the top of the 7th inning Corky Miller came up to pinch hit for Atlanta. He crushed, as Harry Carry would say, "a high . . . fly ball" to left field. At the ball flew I said--out loud, "C'mon, catch that." Well, Corky Miller's shot was caught . . . by a Cubs fan in the left field stands, but my supplication was also caught . . . by my wife.
"What did you say?"
"Uhh . . . nothing . . ."
"No, you said, 'C'mon, catch that.' What did you mean by that?"
I was busted. I had been rooting for Ryan Dempster to play well because he was on my fantasy baseball team. If Corky Miller's ome run had been a fly ball out instead, Dempster would have earned me a complete game shutout, rare points in fantasy baseball.
Trisha's response to this was a rather angry, "This is not fatasy baseball; this is REAL baseball!" as she pointed at the television.
All I could do was confess my wrongdoing and beg forgiveness.
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