Thirsty?

At the grocery store this evening, I noticed a couple. Both members of this couple had a cart, and each cart contained as many six-packs of soda bottles as one could possibly fit in a grocery cart. Seriously. I'm fairly confident that if the greatest minds in the world of architectural engineering convened at this grocery store, they would not have been able to find a way to get more six-packs of soda in these carts.

The question that immediately came to mind, upon seeing these carts, was, "Why in the world do these two need that much soda?" After much thought, I have decided there are three possible answers.

1. They plan to take the soda to an undisclosed location, remove the labels, and then stick their own labels on them, all in effort to start their own soda company, which they have unfortunately decided to call "I Can't Believe It's Not Dr. Pepper."

2. They're so concerned about children's teeth rotting from sugary soda that they're buying all they can and then pouring the bottles into area rivers, ponds and streams. Sadly, this means we'll soon encounter hordes of deer on caffeine highs and with rotting teeth.  

3. They recently purchased a pet store and they're really interested in testing whether hamsters will explode if they drink highly carbonated beverages.

As I see it, these are the only three possible explanations for buying that much soda.

What do you mean, "They might be having a party"?

... I guess that's possible. But would exploding hamsters really add that much to a party?

People in your Neighborhood - Back to the Park

It's true; we at The Writings have dissected* the sort of folk on might encounter during a lap around their nearest park before. Nonetheless, the wonderful thing about the park is that no two trips are alike. Consider the park-goers encountered in my neighborhood this very evening...

*Not literally.

The guy looking for the gym
Whenever one goes out to do any sort of activity that might be considered exercise (running, walking, biking, army crawling, weightlifting, chasing one's shadow, hiding from gypsies, or spinning until one becomes dizzy), it seems one is always bound to encounter a muscle-bound person that looks like they went to GNC and purchased an Everything Basket. From television and film, I gather some of these Herculean folks think a clever way to impress those of the female variety is to ask them "Which way to the gym?"*

*I have never tried this. Reasons: 1) It's creepy; 2) I have little muscle to speak of; 3) I look younger than my age. So young that the female hearing this query would probably direct me toward the jungle gym... Oooh, monkey bars!

This evening, I encountered such a Hans-and-Franz-ian individual. He walked with a menacing stature, wearing a cutoff shirt to alert everyone that he was, in fact, strong. Sadly for this fellow, the "Which way to the gym?" question would not have worked out well, as he was carrying two dumbbells with him on his stroll. Some might say this is a method to help gain strength as one walks. I like to think he left the gym and forgot how to get back.

"No, seriously, which way to the gym? They know I have these dumbells and I don't want to have to pay for them."


The guy looking for the fridge
The title of this one is misleading. I'm not referring to any folks that might be large in stature and candidates for the next season of The Biggest Loser. No, the man I'm referring to looked like a refrigerator repairman. This silver-haired gentleman enjoyed his evening constitutional while wearing a dirty t-shirt, dirty jeans, and aviator sunglasses that have surely been around since the last time they were in style. I cannot confirm that he had a wrench in his back pocket, but as he meandered around the park's perimeter, he almost seemed like he was searching for something - something like the house he was supposed to be completing a service call at.


The guy with a tattoo in an unfortunate location
As I journeyed around the municipal recreation area, several joggers zipped past me at different times. Did I feel silly sauntering down the sidewalk when so many folks were getting in touch with their inner Prefontaine? No. I despise running. It's horrible. I really, really cannot stand it. (Editor's note: This anti-running rant carried on for approximately 2,387 more words. In the interest of reader wellness, we have eliminated the rest.)

The joggers that went by came in all shapes in sizes - big and small; round and stick-like; dogless and dogful - but only one made me stop to ponder his sanity. As I walked northward on the west end of the park, a figure zipped past me without warning. I was listening to my iPod and pondering what life would be like with discernable skills; therefore, I heard no approaching footsteps. As the figure took off past me, I noticed it was some guy lacking a shirt. Whether he wore no shirt as a fashion choice or a product of the recession was unclear, but one thing was not: his lower back. There, at the L-5 vertebrae, was ink on skin creating some sort of design that I did not bother to commit to memory. Like so many Hollywood starlets and college-aged females, he had a tattoo on his lower back.

Unfortunately for this guy, he apparently is not aware of the following rule: tattoo on a girl's lower back - okay; tattoo on a guy's lower back - odd and disturbing. Unfortunately, I spent the rest of my walk around the park pondering why this guy would get the ink-needle treatment on this area of his body. Was it a fraternity prank while he was passed out? Is his idol Angelina Jolie? Was it as the result of a pinkie-swear with his BFF? I probably should have asked, but catching up with him would have involved running.

Nothing But Football Strikes Back: The Main Event

At this point in time, my couch is making comments about how lazy I am, but I can't quit now. It's nearly Wildcat game-time.

9:09 p.m.
Before we get to K-State-UCLA coverage, we're treated to the end of the Cincinnati-Oregon State contest. Out of sheer boredom, I decided to look at Cincy's athletic website. It makes me wonder if they have a difficult time believing that they actually have a successful football program.
Why do I feel this way? The Bearcats list their spring game as a victory on their schedule page.

9:24 p.m.
Apparently things are more relaxed on the west coast. I was pretty certain kickoff was set for 9:15 p.m. Weird.

9:27 p.m.
UCLA coach Rick Neuheisel basically confirms that we'll see two different UCLA quarterbacks in the game tonight. With that, the over/under for quarterbacks to appear in this game is set at 4.5. What's your bet?

9:30 p.m.
Wildcat quarterback Carson Coffman carries the ball on two consecutive plays. The next play, running back Daniel Thomas carries. One of the plays was not like the others.

9:33 p.m.
An announcer insists on calling K-State receiver Attrail Snipes "AN-trail," despite the fact that his first name does not contain the letter necessary to create the "nuh" sound in the English language. Oh well. Names can be DIN-ficult.

9:35 p.m.
After putting together a rather productive drive, it all goes awry when Coffman throws an interception after being flushed from the pocket. Opening-drive points are overrated, anyway.

9:45 p.m.
The Bruins take a 7-0 lead after pushing the ball down the field in fairly impressive fashion. D'oh.

9:52 p.m.
Right after I send a text message complaining about too many carries by Coffman, the Cats get a big gain on a shovel pass that was perfectly set up by the QB run threat, and then get another good gain on a QB keeper. There are many reasons I don't coach football; this supports one of them.

9:53 p.m.
After missing a touchdown by a length of receiver Brandon Banks' toes, kicker Josh Cherry knocks in a field goal to put the Wildcats on the board. Cherry missed three kicks a week ago, so such a sight is akin to seeing a Gatorade factory after being lost in the Sahara.

9:59 p.m.
UCLA has a touchdown called back due to having an ineligible receiver downfield. Nonetheless, I'm beginning to have second thoughts about my prediction.

10:05 p.m.
UCLA hits a field goal, and it's revealed that some stats for this game are sponsored by eharmony.com. K-State is thin enough on the defensive line that I'm tempted to check eharmony for some backups. Does it work as a recruiting service?

10:14 p.m.
UCLA converts on 3rd-and-14.

10:15 p.m.
I turn on the curse-word filter in my head.

10:16 p.m.
UCLA decides to try to pick on the most proven player on the K-State defense, cornerback Josh Moore. Moore expresses his appreciation by pulling down an interception. I'm not sure what the Bruins were trying to accomplish there, but I hope they try it a few more times.

10:26 p.m.
K-State is penalized after a UCLA player shoves a Wildcat into the Bruin punt returner. Two plays later, the Bruins are down to the Wildcat 35-yard-line. Luckly, the curse-filter is working effectively.

10:31 p.m.
Wildcats limit Bruins to a field goal. Bruins lead 13-3. K-State is right back in this game if they can score a touchdown... Unfortunately, at times that seems like a pretty big "if."

10:37 p.m.
Daniel Thomas completes a pass out of the Wildcat formation... And tonight's winner of the "get this guy the ball more" award is... Daniel Thomas!

10:39 p.m.
Thomas gets the ball... Unfortunately, he has to scoop it off the turf after a failed pitch on the option. What starts with 'p' and rhymes with bunt?

10:42 p.m.
UCLA leads 13-3 at the half. The announcer deems it an "effective" half for both squads. I disagree.

11:06 p.m.
We're back, and the announcers are talking about the Rose Bowl as if it is the Holy Land. I'm 98-percent sure that's not true.

11:16 p.m.
The Wildcat offense looks effective thus far on this drive. The reason? Thomas has taken several snaps in the Wildcat and has befulddled the Bruin defense. No. 8 needs to be involved in nearly every play at this point.

11:22 p.m.
"A lot of Wildcat fans expected Thomas to be a Michael Beasley or Ell Roberson-type."
Honestly, I didn't expect Daniel Thomas to be anything like Michael Beasley. I don't recall him doing much on the gridiron.

11:24 p.m.
Thomas finds paydirt. Wildcat fans find hope. Coach Snyder finds an offensive option.

11:25 p.m.
The special teams unit finds a new way to botch an extra point when the holder somehow cannot find the ground to set the ball on. I've lost track of a lot of things in my life, but the ground has never been one of them.

11:30 p.m.
UCLA punts after finding nothing on offense. Can the Cats score on back-to-back possessions?

11:33 p.m.
No. But, the Bruins' next drive starts at their own 4 after a nifty punt by Ryan Doerr.

11:37 p.m.
UCLA punts from its own end zone and KSU's next drive will start at the Bruin 41. Can the Cats score on alternating possessions?

11:40 p.m.
A Bruin defender leads with his head instead of thinking with it, prompting a flag and extending the Wildcats' drive. Hooray for mindless antics.

11:43 p.m.
The field goal unit is back. Accuracy is not. K-State misses an opportunity to cut the UCLA lead to one. I think they might be approaching the record for missed kicks set by a Charles Brown years ago.

11:46 p.m.
UCLA receiver Nelson Rosario a one-handed grab that any receiver would envy. Speaking from experience, it's also a catch that brings fans of the opposing team to shout obscenities.

11:54 p.m.
The UCLA kicker nailes a field goal. He's on the Groza Award (best kicker) watch list. It seems that a kicker is something one takes for granted until they don't have one.

11:58 p.m.
That drive was about as productive as a visit from a Jehovah's Witness.

12:03 a.m.
We're past midnight, and UCLA drive is saved by a horse-collar penalty. The Bruins capitalize with a long passing touchdown... I never have been a fan of equestrian fashion. 

12:14 a.m.
A pass that basically amounted to K-State's last chance to stay in this game just fluttered to the ground like wounded moth. Thirteen hours after it began, Nothing But Football day ends with nothing but aggravation. This game could have been something very different, but the production from certain areas on this team is far less than it should be.  

12:18 a.m.
Unbelievably, K-State attempts to defy my eulogy by forcing a fumble and getting the ball back. Miracle time?

12:20 a.m.
If allowing two sacks, a near-interception, and an actual interception in a span of four plays counts as a miracle, then yes; miracles can happen. Who has a fork? This one is done. Bruins 23, Wildcats 9. 

12:22 a.m.
I never have liked football, anyway.

Copyright Derek D. Larson

Nothing But Football Strikes Back: 6 p.m. - 9 p.m.

This edition of Nothing But Football brought to you by Little Caesar's Pizza. Providing authors of blogs that few read with suitable Saturday evening meals since the dawn of time.*

*Timeline may be skewed.

6:59 p.m.
Louisiana Lafayette @ Louisiana State
LSU leads the battle for Cajun Country 14-0 in the second quarter. A Lafayette victory would make K-State's loss to them look a lot more respectable... I'm not expecting to gain any respect.

7:06 p.m.
Florida State @ BYU
For the second time today, I've heard mention of a football player missing some time with the swine flu... I know there's a lot of this going around, and that it's a serious issue, but would it be so wrong if we started calling it the "pig plague"? Alliteration makes everything better.

7:17 p.m.
Florida State @ BYU
The play-by-play announcer for this game is slightly less annoying than having your ear canal serve as a temporary beehive. Enough is enough, and it's time for a change.

7:36 p.m.
Texas Tech @ Texas
The Longhorns return a punt for a touchdown and end up celebrating near the school mascot, Bevo - an actual longhorn. The beastly being rose to its feet and for a moment I thought we might see what it would look like if a rodeo clown wore football pads. Fortunately, cooler heads prevailed and Bevo went back to simply hating his life as a showcow.

7:53 p.m.
Texas Tech @ Texas
Thanks to a hot-potato fumble, the Red Raiders just lost 32 yards on one play. Oddly, Texas Tech chooses not to go for it on 4th-and-41. I think they need a dose of "bold and daring."

7:54 p.m.
Self-loathing @ Derek
I kind of hate myself for typing that.

7:56 p.m.
Texas Tech @ Texas
According to Brent Musburger, Texas Tech coach Mike Leach is "absolutely fascinated" by pirates. Garrr?

8:08 p.m.
Temple @ Penn State
How long before PETA attempts to strike the phrase "pooch punt" from the football dictionary? It's bound to happen, right?

8:12 p.m.
Texas Tech @ Texas
After the Red Raiders convert on 4th-and-2, Kirk Herbstreit says that he thinks Detron Lewis has a chance to be "this year's Michael Crabtree." Does this mean Lewis is going to sit out next season when he doesn't think the millions of dollars he's being offered are enough?

8:31 p.m.
West Virginia @ Auburn
Word from the press box is that there are several "smurf hybrid" players in this game. Shows what I know... I thought smurfs were fictional. Apparently they're not only real, but they're having interspecies relationships with humans. I wonder if there are any Gargamelian descendants playing on the opposing squad.

8:45 p.m.
Texas Tech @ Texas
The Red Raiders pull off a fake kneel-down so convincing that the referees rule the play dead and the half ends. This proves my theory: referees hate entertainment.
On another note, Mike Leach refrains from talking like a pirate in his halftime interview.

8:58 p.m.
Other games prepare to take a back seat, as it's nearly time for the game everyone* has been waiting for.

*Naturally, for purposes of The Writings, "everyone" refers to everyone that reads this blog. The over-under on this number has been set at 1.5.

Because I enjoy making predictions (even though most inevitably go horribly wrong), here's the shot at tonights game. Wildcats top the Bruins 20-19. You read it here first. (... and probably last.)

Nothing But Football Strikes Back: 2:30 p.m. - 6 p.m.

Previously on Nothing But Football...
Announcers acted as if they owned players, a Cal running back attempted to win the Heisman with one game, and a horrendous pun was offered up by the author.

2:39 p.m.
Utah @ Oregon
No two people have the same fingerprints. No two people have the same DNA. No two snowflakes are exactly alike. Along the same lines, I don't know if the University of Oregon has ever worn the same football uniform twice. I'm waiting for the day that they take the field with Daffy Duck on the side of their helmets.

2:49 p.m.
Michigan State @ Notre Dame
The Fighting Irish score. Bandwagon fans everywhere consider rooting for Notre Dame again, but decide they better wait until they're in definite bowl contention.

2:53 p.m.
Tennessee @ Florida
Bryce Brown, a freshman running back from Wichita, carries the ball for the Volunteers. Brown refused to consider attending K-State when a certain former coach was "pursuing perfection" with the program, but showed a little interest again once Bill Snyder took over the program. Alas, it was not enough to land Mr. Brown.
Ron Prince - the gift that keeps on giving.

Non-football Rant (effectively rendering the title of this Writing "Nothing but Football..." moot. Sorry. You get what you pay for.)
Can someone explain the concept behind the Tacos at Midnight-flavored Doritos? Is there a distinct difference between the taste of a taco at midnight and the taste of a taco at any other time of day? Does it refer to the fact that the disgruntled employees of a fast-food Mexican place might even be further disgruntled if they are still making tacos at midnight? Or is this flavor derived from the fact that most people who are eating tacos at the midnight hour probably have some booze in their system? Have the chips been soaked in skunky beer? Which is it?

3:22 p.m.
Tulsa @ Oklahoma
I enjoy watching OU backup quarterback Landry Jones, who is taking snaps since Sam Bradford went down in the opening game of the season, play football. Why? It has nothing to do with his playing style. It has everything to do with the fact that he currently is sporting a mustache that makes him look like a skinny Farva from Super Troopers. It's undeniably entertaining.

4:13 p.m.
Michigan State at Notre Dame
The Spartans score to take a 17-16 lead just before halftime. The game is a tight one, but the more entertaining thought is the idea of a bunch of rowdy Irishmen actually fighting against Spartan Warriors. That would be an epic battle.

Quick aside...
For those worried about the well-being of someone who stays locked up in his apartment all day watching football when the weather is near-gorgeous in the outdoor world, don't fret. My windows are wide open. I could not get more fresh air if they sold it in packets at vending machines... Although that's probably because I would refuse to buy it, much like bottled water.

5:04 p.m.
Tulsa @ Oklahoma
The Sooner Troopers are up 45-0 with seven minutes remaining in the third quarter and the game's announcers have begun comparing football to life. "You get knocked down, you gotta get back up." ... I'll take "Quotes you hear when your team has no chance of winning," Alex.

5:05 p.m.
Tulsa @ Oklahoma
I also realized that the announcer was dangerously close to quoting Chumbawamba. What ever happened to that group?

5:13 p.m.
Nebraska @ Virginia Tech
According to the sideline reporter, a player in this game "just limped off with a right leg." I'll take instead of the alternative (limping off without a right leg) any day.

5:30 p.m.
Tennessee @ Florida
The Gators just picked off a Volunteer pass to seal a 23-13 victory. One commentator talks of how Tennessee put up a good fight against the top team in the nation, and says that coach Lane Kiffen might not sing "Rocky Top" (the unofficial fight song of UT) after the game, but he can sing Aretha Franklin's "Respect."  I will mail my next paycheck to CBS if Kiffen does this in his postgame interview.

5:34 p.m.
Tennessee @ Florida
My paycheck is safe.

5:46 p.m.
Nebraska @ Virginia Tech
Behind 15-10, two Hokies just hooked up on an 81-yard pass play to put them at Nebraska's three-yard-line with just over a minute left. No failed attempt to be amusing here. It was just an impressive play.

5:50 p.m.
Nebraska @ Virginia Tech
After dancing in the pocket for seemingly the length of a Harry Potter marathon, VT quarterback Tyrone Taylor finds a receiver in the back of the end zone for a touchdown. Hokies 16, Huskers 15, with 21 seconds remaining. Wow.

5:54 p.m.
An update was just shown of the USC-Washington matchup, in which the Huskies upset the No. 3 Trojans. Two words come to mind: Ha. Ha.

5:56 p.m.
Nebraska @ Virginia Tech
A VT interception ends things. The Hokies are victorious. Virginia Tech was the higher ranked team, yet VT fans are storming the field, causing a ruckus in general, and forcing coach Frank Beamer to yell at a few of them. I refuse to attempt to make sense of this situation.

6 p.m.
Michigan State @ Notre Dame
In a situation that could not be made up, a Notre Dame player just tackled his own teammate in the Irish backfield. I hope the statkeepers at least give the guy credit for the tackle. It was a decent hit.

Nothing But Football Strikes Back: 11 a.m. - 2:30 p.m.

It's Saturday, again. It's a day full of college football games, again. The Kansas State Wildcats are on the road, again.

Bake those ingredients at 350-degrees for a couple of hours and, odds are, I'll be about as active today as an average paperclip.*

*What about an above-average paperclip? Your expectations of me are entirely too high.

With my agenda set*, my couch fully prepared to support my body weight for 13 hours, and my fridge just 12 feet away, it seems that the second edition of Nothing But Football is imminent. Join me, won't you?

*11 a.m. - Midnight - watch football and note observations that I (and most likely no one else) find relevant and/or slightly humorous.
Midnight - 12:01 a.m. - Briefly regret the fact that I have no life to speak of.
12:01 - 12:02 a.m. - Consider actually developing some social skills, which might aide one in developing a social life.
12:02 a.m. - 12:03 a.m. - Say "nah" quietly to myself, with a wry grin; the sort you might expect at the close of a poorly written 1980s sitcom.
12:03 a.m - Sleep.

10:44 a.m.
College Gameday
No, games have not started yet, but ESPN is already doing its best to grind my gears. For the past year, whenever a situation has called for Texas Tech highlights to air, the network has seemingly just popped in the game film from the Red Raiders' game with K-State last season. I realize that Tech dominated, winning 58-28. I also realize that then-quarterback Graham Harrell threw for over 400 yards and six touchdowns. Nevertheless, as a K-State alum, I would not mind occasionally seeing a highlight of a Red Raider touchdown that did not take place in Manhattan. Please.

11:03 a.m.
Cal @ Minnesota
"This is what college football is all about."
I'm not sure how many times I have heard that phrase, but I'm pretty confident that every time I've heard it, it has been in reference to something different. Just now, the phrase was uttered regarding the atmosphere at TCF Bank Stadium. Apparently college football is "all about" corporate sponsorships.

11:10 a.m.
Cal @ Minnesota
The Golden Bears just put together a rather impressive scoring drive, going 80 yards in nine plays. All but seven of those yards game via Cal's rushing attack, led by running back Jahvid Best. Meanwhile, one commentator mentioned that Minnesota defenders were waiting for the arrival of the Calvary. Not the cavalry, mind you, but the Calvary. This game seems to have taken a religious turn.

11:23 a.m.
Duke @ Kansas
Duke quarterback Thaddeus Lewis finds a hole in the defense and runs 20+ yards for a touchdown. The Blue Devils lead the Jayhawks 7-0. It's early - very early - and the odds of Duke holding on to such a lead are akin to a donut's chance of surviving on the KU sideline. Nevertheless, I always enjoy the thought of the Jayhawks losing.

11:32 a.m.
Eastern Michigan @ Michigan
The Wolverines score to take a 10-3 lead and the Michigan band celebrates by playing "Hail to the Victors." The aforementioned fight song is also the fight song of my high school alma mater; as a result, I'm reminded of my high school glory days on the gridiron. It's hard to believe it's been ten years since those in the class ahead of me made it their personal missions to see how firmly they could plant me in the dirt each day in practice. (Pretty deep, it turns out.) Nothing like a good game of "paste the skinny kid that minds his own business." Ah, memories.

12:11 p.m.
Cal @ Minnesota
Jahvid Best takes off for his third touchdown of the day. The score prompts one of the commentators to say, "That's my boy."
... I don't think he's speaking literally.

12:47 p.m.
Duke @ Kansas
KU leads 20-7 at the half. Due to an unwritten but understood rule of The Writings, I cannot provide any more updates of this game unless Duke regains the lead... I wouldn't expect to hear from this game again.

1:02 p.m.
Cal @ Minnesota
The game commentators just talked about a 310-pound offensive lineman that used to play ice hockey. I guess if anyone needs a new twist on the "How much does a polar bear weigh?" pickup line, you might have one.
... Then again, a response of "Not as much as that dude," may not have the intended effect.

1:14 p.m.
East Carolina @ North Carolina
In a battle of directional Carolina's, the northern version blocks a field goal. One announcer refers to the player who blocked the kick as "our guy." Is it just me, or is there a disturbing trend of commentators taking ownership of players today? First we had "my boy," and now "our guy." If we reach the point where a player is referred to as "my schmoopy" I'm calling ESPN to complain.

1:22 p.m.
Cal @ Minnesota
The fightin' Gophers just tied the game at 21 with some trickery, but the noteworthy thing here is that comment from the broadcast crew that "it looked like Cal was going to blow Minnesota out of the gym in the first five minutes." Credit goes to the architects in Minnesota, as they made this gymnasium look frighteningly like an outdoor stadium. It's uncanny.

1:41 p.m.
Eastern Michigan @ Michigan
"Your guy." Is there some sort of illegal college athlete trafficking program going on that I'm unaware of?

2:06 p.m.
Cal @ Minnesota
The Golden Bears have 35 points, and all five of their touchdowns have been scored by Jahvid Best. It's probably safe to say that he's the best of the Bests.

... I'm sorry. It had been awhile since I'd had the chance to write such a horrible pun. It's an addiction and I'm seeking help for it.

Hi Neighbor

I'm currently listening to some smooth R&B tunes... Unfortunately, it's not by choice. You see, the apartment that I call home* is encased by walls whose thickness rivals that of most delicious Triscuit crackers. While having walls an octogenarian could bite through might prove beneficial should I ever become locked in my apartment while hosting a game of bridge and need a creative escape route, this feature of my apartment is not so pleasant on a night like tonight.

*I also call it "the building... thingy... where my bed and TV is," but that's neither here nor there.

My neighbor, new as of the beginning of August, enjoys doing his best Brian McKnight impersonation in the evenings, meaning I get to experience the performances as if I were on the front row of a concert I'd feel inordinately out of place at. It can be quite the show.

When my neighbor isn't singing, it's not uncommon to hear a nagging female voice on that side of the wall. Whether this girl is my neighbor's wife, girlfriend, "it's complicated" friend, mistress, lady of the night, sister, sister-in-law, maid, or a hobo he decided to take in as an act of goodwill is something unknown to me. What is known is that this girl really seems to enjoy calling her mother and yelling at her over the phone. I'm not sure what the mother could have done to this girl to make her so consistently angry, but with the way she yells, it seems like it would have to involve the torture of some small animals.

Interestingly, prior to this neighbor, the guy that used to live next door also took great joy in singing, however he seemed to embrace soft rock more than R&B. Instead of Ruben Studdard, I was hearing Clay Aiken. I can't say it was any better.

Two consecutive neighbors that performed daily/nightly concerts, and yet I still haven't attempted to see how many Q-Tips I could fit in my ears... That, dear readers, is willpower.

The neighbor before these Apartment Idol contestants was a timid one. She was apparently so shy that, back when my television was next to the shared wall, she would slide notes under my door requesting that I turn the volume down. Unfortunately for her, she never knocked or did anything to make me aware that she had passed this written communication underneath my door, which is not in my line of sight from my living room area. This meant I often read notes requesting that I turn down my television volume as I left for work the following morning. It seems passive aggressiveness may not always be the best route.*

*Note to self...

What's the point of all this? There really isn't one. Sorry.

I guess maybe it should spark thoughts in my head wondering what neighbors say about me. Hopefully it's something like, "No offense, but Beyonce would be the best neighbor ever."

Nothing but Football - 3 p.m.-4:18 p.m.

... picking up where we left off...

3:09 p.m.
Texas @ Wyoming
The Cowboys draw a standing ovation as the result of closing the first quarter down just three points to the No. 2 Longhorns. That's nice. I haven't seen a good moral victory ovation in awhile.

3:15 p.m.
BYU @ Tulane
Continuing an earlier theme, I'm now stuck with the question: In nature, how would a cougar react if it encountered a green wave?
... I think I may have too much time on my hands.

3:19 p.m.
Notre Dame @ Michigan
In describing Michigan quarterback Denard Robinson, and announcer just referred to his feet as "magic" and said "He's electric" in a 20-second span. While I'm disappointed that the announcer didn't follow up said statements with "boogie woogie woogie," I'm also rather curious. I've never before seen a person that runs on electricity whose feet perform illusions. Seems like the Wolverines could sell tickets just based on that.

3:40 p.m.
Houston @ Oklahoma State
I think fans who are shown on camera during football game broadcasts should not allowed to yell "We're number one!" and hold up one finger (normally the index finger... hopefully) unless they are actually fans of the team that is ranked No. 1. If not, they must appropriately represent their school.
For example, OSU is ranked No. 6. Therefore, their orange-clad fans are allowed to look at the camera with wild looks in their eyes and yell "We're No. 6!" while holding up six fingers. If your team is not ranked in the top 10 (and therefore cannot be appropriately represented by your fingers," you are allowed to yell "We're... trying to get better! Seriously, we are! Someday - hopefully soon -  we'll be in finger-representation range!"

4:01 p.m.
Houston @ Oklahoma State
Thanks to an on-side kick and then some nifty running on a screen pass, Houston takes a 24-7 lead over OSU. At this rate, Cowboys' fans might want to yell "We're number six!" while it's still factual.

4:08 p.m.
Texas @ Wyoming
Words of wisdom from this broadcast crew: "It's not how you react, it's how you respond."
Funny, I react and respond to that comment in the same way: They're synonyms! The words mean the same thing! The definition for "react" at www.thefreedictionary.com even begins "To act in response..."
Sorry, broadcast crew, it's not that you're wrong, you just aren't right. 


4:18 p.m.
... With that, it's time to leave the home office (my couch) to go secure seats to view K-State's battle against Cajuns who apparently show unnecessary rage. Unfortunately, my trusty laptop will not be making the aforementioned journey. 

It's true, all good things (and, as in this case, all appallingly mediocre things) must come to an end.

Nothing but Football - 11 a.m.-3 p.m.

It's the second Saturday of the college football season and K-State is down in Cajun country. If there's a better occasion to waste a day watching college football and composing random nonsense in electronic written form, I've yet to hear it.

11:09 a.m.
Fresno St. @ Wisconsin
An injury to Wisconsin's starting center prompts the hypothetical question from on announcer, "What are you going to do when you have 290 lbs. lined up on your nose?"
My hypothetical answer involves some combination of the fetal position, uncontrollable sobbing, and prayers for mercy... But that's just me.

11:45 a.m.
Iowa @ Iowa State
They just showed footage of Iowa State students running into the stadium to secure good seats as soon as the gates opened. A few students took pretty good tumbles as they ran down the Jack Trice Stadium steps.
Normally, the saying "no pain, no gain" might come into play, but Iowa State football is involved... Pain is inevitable; gain, unlikely.

11:49 a.m.
Common Sense @ Derek Larson
A pot and a kettle just made awkward small talk after being introduced. I realize it's a little ironic that I'm bashing a struggling college football team when my alma mater has not appeared in the postseason since 2006. Please remember, logic isn't something normally embraced around here.

12:09 p.m.
Iowa @ Iowa State
Football can sometimes generate deep thoughts in my head. Example: couldn't the "naked bootleg" just be called a "leg"?
Think about it...

12:22 p.m.
Syracuse @ Penn State
"Coach, how do you get better on first down?"
"How do we get better? We play better."
This moment of zen brought to you by Joe Paterno.

12:57 p.m.
It finally happened. I have been flipping through four different games, but at this very moment all are breaking for commercials. It seems that I'm actually going to have to think for mysel- Hey, the Fresno State-Wisconsin game is back on! Whew.

1:14 p.m.
Iowa @ Iowa State
The Hawkeyes take a 21-3 lead on a play where one Cyclone defender ran right over another. Remember that "pain is inevitable" talk we had?

1:28 p.m.
Iowa @ Iowa State
Hawkeyes 28, Cyclones 3. I hope those bruises heal quickly.

1:57 p.m.
Iowa @ Iowa State
Iowa safety Tyler Sash picks off his third Cyclone pass of the day. It's crazy that ISU's relatively recent switch to uniform's that look just like those of USC didn't result in immediate succes... I'm sorry, Cyclone fan(s). I'll stop.

2:07 p.m.
Fresno State @ Wisconsin
The sweetest word in college football? Overtime. It seems weird to feel that way, considering K-State's history in overtime games, but it's just ridiculously entertaining to watch.

2:15 p.m.
Fresno State @ Wisconsin
Wisconsin receiver Nick Toon puts the Badgers ahead in overtime with a diving catch in the end zone. The notion that Nickelodeon sends Mr. Toon a Spongebob Squarepants check every time his name is mentioned remains just a rumor.

2:27 p.m.
Central Michigan @ Michigan State
Thousands stand shocked as the Central Michigan kicker nails a field goal with three seconds left in the game to give the Chippewas a 29-27 lead (and ultimately the win). This is Sparta?

2:32 p.m.
Fresno State @ Wisconsin
The Badgers drop the Bulldogs with a field goal in the second overtime period. It's at this point that I realize that Fresno State coach Pat Hill looks like he'd be a NASCAR fan.
The Writings: Offering insightful observations at opportune times.

2:40 p.m.
BYU @ Tulane
A new batch of games to view brings a new batch of questions to mind... What inspires one to give a school the nickname "Green Wave"? A vision of the future where nuclear waste has polluted all of our oceans? A splash pool lacking chlorine? A farewell from Oscar the Grouch?
I must know.
...
According to Wikipedia, the nickname came about in 1920, as the result of a song titled "The Rolling Green Wave," which was published in the school newspaper.
The Writings: We're here to educate (by citing sources that could have been edited by mentally unstable hobos).

2:49 p.m.
I'm now entertaining myself by thinking of possible school nicknames that could be inspired by songs of the current generation. The Boston Boom Boom Pow? The Louisiana LOL :-)? The San Diego Sexy Bitches?*
Thankfully, those in charge of university's no longer follow such trends.

*These song inspired mascots brought to you by www.billboard.com. Truth told, I'm not exactly in touch with most of today's music scene, and therefore needed a little help finding some song titles for the tunes kids are listening to these days.
The Writings: We're hip.

People in Your Neighborhood - The Perplexed Grocery Shopper

"It just doesn't make any logical sense."

I heard the aforementioned quote just minutes ago. Oddly, it did not take place in any sort of philosophical debate. This sentence was not uttered in a lecture hall, a library, or even some sort of coffee shop where mind-cramping issues might be discussed.

No, I heard this quote in the frozen pizza aisle at the supermarket.

Don't get me wrong; I'm not saying the grocery store is not a place that serve as home to stimulating topics of conversation. I'm sure many issues so deep that my feeble mind could not comprehend them have been discussed while comparing prices of Ketchup vs. Catsup. Unfortunately, this quote was not uttered in a discussion about fertilizers used to ensure good crops of tomatoes. It was not in reference to an embargo that prevents us from being able to purchase Cuban cuisine. It did not even relate to the fact that the Little Debbie website has a gift shop section.

No, this slice of wisdom was given verbal birth because a grocery shopper did not understand a two-for-$5 promotion.

Yes. That's right.

The gentleman in question, dressed as if his grocery shopping was a precursor to a monster truck rally this evening (and heretofore referred to as "the professor"), could not process the concept that the market could charge $2.75 for one pizza, but then only charge $5 if he were to buy two.

The professor was utterly baffled. It reminded me of the time I read Stephen Hawking's "A Brief History of Time." Sure, I made it through, but that doesn't mean I'm going to be writing any dissertations on wormholes.

"It makes no f****** sense," he said.

That's right. This issue of this grocery promotion was so disturbing that profanity came into play.

Unfortunately, his colleague ("the professess") was of little assistance with the matter. Sure, she verbally volleyed with him, countering his quip of "They can't do it," with the utterly brilliant, "Yes, they can," but her followup to the next question was less encouraging.

"How?" asked the professor.

Digging into the deepest recesses of her mind, the professess retorted, "I don't know. They just can."

There I was, trying buy something perfectly unhealthy to transport to my freezer, and all of the sudden I was at the mercy of a conversation that basically equated a two-for-$5 special to the illusions of David Coppefield.

"How did he make the Statue of Liberty disappear?"

"I don't know, but can you imagine how much more amazing it would of been if he had sold us two $10 tickets for $17.50?... Amazing!"

I grabbed a couple pizzas and left, trying to avoid shaking my head as I pushed my cart away. I continued my shopping, checked out at the cashier, and went on my way.

I did not, however, ask the cashier how they could logically run that promotion on frozen pizzas.

... I figured good magicians never share their secrets.

Good News, Bad News - K-State vs. UMass Edition

Good news - The Kansas State Wildcats started the 2009 season 1-0 with a win on Saturday.

Bad news - The Wildcats nearly coughed up an 18 point lead, and only beat Division-IAA, FCS, brought to you by the letter B, YMCA opponent UMass by four, 21-17.

Good news - Saturday's game served as a "family reunion," with over 300 former K-State football players returning to watch the action.

Bad news - I know plenty of people that despise family reunions.

Good news - Legendary coach Bill Snyder also returned for the Wildcats, starting his second coaching sting at K-State.

Bad news - Snyder was not able to have former players like Terry Pierce, Terence Newman, Darren Sproles or Jordy Nelson suit up in purple.

Good news - The Wildcats will have an opportunity to get rid of the sour taste of their wafer-thin victory in less than a week.

Bad news - This chance will come in Lafayette, La., where the humidity may be near 123-percent by gameday. Weather forecasters are refusing to calculate the anticipated heat index, as the figure gives them brain cramps.

A Title Gone Wrong

The Discovery Channel is currently showing a program called, "Explosions Gone Wrong."

Is there a good way for explosions to "go right"?

I plan on watching simply to see if Daffy Duck, Elmer Fudd, or Wile E. Coyote make an appearance.

Digesting Some Reading

I received an email today from the folks at Reader's Digest. Now, I'm not sure whether anyone reads Reader's Digest aside from me and those over 60, but I always have to take a quick peek at the mass emails they send. Today's was touting a piece titled "13 Things a Burglar Won't Tell You." Unfortunately, I didn't follow the link to see what the 13 things actually are. They could be crime secrets, they could be all-out lies, or they could be details about their pet ferrets. (Burglars are extremely protective of their pet ferrets... It's well documented.)

Anyway, here's my crack at the 10 things a burglar won't tell you (that probably didn't make the real list)...

1. Hi, I'm a burglar.

2. I'm planning on robbing your house when you leave for vacation. Any chance you can leave the doors unlocked to make things easier?

3. You know that time someone broke in and took your TV? Yeah, that was me. I've always wanted picture-in-picture.

4. Your security alarm scared the hell out of me when I was trying to pry open your door the other night.

5. Hey, does this watch look familiar? Yeah, it should.

6. I prefer robbing homes in your neighborhood between 10:45 and 11:45 p.m.

7. Dogs? I love dogs. Especially the really noisy ones. 

8. I think I left my good crowbar in your living room.

9. If you liked your GPS unit that much, you can buy it again down at the pawn shop on the corner.

10. You haven't lived until you've worn panty hose on your head.

10 Quick Lessons Learned From a 13-Month-Old Niece

1. Socks are for suckers.

2.  If you hear applause on television, naturally you should start clapping, as well.

3.  Grapes are best served in halves.

4. Everything else is best served two handfuls at a time

5. Although your baby doll cannot actually eat, it's polite to offer her a bit of anything you consume anyway.

6. It's also good form to toss food on the floor for your dog, even if the dog isn't with you at the time.

7. Anything semi-round is referred to as a ball. Anything. Even pine cones and rocks.

8. If a gingerbread house has been sitting out for eight months, the trees made of peppermint are definitely fair game.

9. Nothing is funnier than a good game of peek-a-boo.

10. Grandparents and uncles serving as babysitters are putty in your hands.

One more thing...

Am I the only one who has a problem with the title "America's Got Talent"?

Sure, I think America has talent, but it never seems to show up in this show. I'd like to suggest that the network rename the show, "America's Got Talent, It's Just Nowhere Near this Show."

A Return to Pointlessness

Popular opinion* says that it's been far too long since a Writing has been composed of nothing but random thoughts of a bulleted nature. It's time to rectify this lack of typed drivel.

*"Popular opinion" belongs to the author. He supports his opinions, in most cases.

- I picked up a new cellphone awhile back. When texting, it often attempts to guess the next work i'm going to type. If I type, "I'm going" it might suggest "home" as the next word. I can see how it might be a convenient feature. Unfortunately, my particular phone seems a bit paranoid about our nation's safety. On several occasions, it has attempted to finish my sentence with the word "terrorists." My phone wants me to send messages like "I saw the terrorists," "let's go watch terrorists," or "I ate terrorists." Believe it or not, I don't take my phone's advice very often.

- My toaster is the one that knows what it is talking about.

- The opening to "Shaq vs." refers to Shaquille O'Neal as an athlete "formed out of Greek mythology." That seems like an odd nickname for his mother.

- I'm also glad that the announcers decided to clarify for the audience that "Shaq vs." is "the only show where four-time NBA Champion Shaquille O'Neal takes on world class athletes in their own sports." I thought for sure I'd seen it happen on "Nash Bridges," but thanks to the informative announcer, I know I was mistaken.

- I had never watched "Shaq vs." prior to tonight... Now that I have, it seems there is good reason that I've never programmed it into my DVR.

- Zack Greinke currently has 12 strikeouts through six innings pitched. He's been the best pitcher in the American League this year, but he's on the worst team in the league. If you are writing a story about things that are not fair, consider this for your lead.

- Yes, I admit that the Royals are the worst time in the American League... But they aren't the worst in the Majors. Thank you, Washington Nationals, for taking charge in the department of futility.

- Need to figure out if you're an adult yet? Head to the dentist. If paying for the dental work hurts more than sitting through it, congratulations, you're all grown up.

- Did I say 12 strikeouts through six innings? I meant 14 through seven, which ties the Royals' single-game record. With the way things have gone lately, I'm just glad we're talking about records that don't involve "most losses," "most consecutive at bats without actually making contact with a pitch," or "most fans that leave directly following the hot dog race."

- My new neighbor (in my apartment with thin walls) apparently enjoys calling her mother and yelling at her over the phone. I'm sure her mom appreciates it as much as I do. Luckily for the mom, she at least has the option of hanging up. I have yet to locate that button on my Dunder-Mifflin brand wall. 

- 15 strikeouts in a game marks a new Royals record for Donald Zackary Greinke. Congratulations to the young man, and congratulations to KC beat writers for having something to write about other than the Royals failing to capitalize with runners in scoring position.

- I'll close with a video most of you have probably seen, but if you have not, have a look. K-State guard Denis Clemente hits a shot that looks like it belongs in the old Jordan/Bird McDonalds commercial. I have not received any confirmation as to whether coach Frank Martin is petitioning the NCAA to make this sort of shot legal.

Denis Clemente (K-State) Crazy Shot, Can you beat this Lebron?

The Favrings

Since their inception, The Writings have been about two things:

1. Providing insightful tales of early Latvian settlers in southern Connecticut; and,

2. Providing in-depth analysis of everything Favre.

Naturally, this is an exciting week at The Writings, and not just because LatFest 09 is taking place in Guilford, Conn.* This week marks Brett Favre's triumphant return to the NFL. After leaving the Vikings, the NFL, the nation, and even the world in a state of mourning after saying he would remain retired a week ago, Favre's recent decision to join the Vikings was met with widespread joy.

*Editor's note: Unfortunately, research does not support this claim.

In Minnesota, Governor Tim Pawlenty proclaimed this week "Brett Favre Week" and declared that any state employee who purchased a #4 Vikings jersey could enjoy a paid month off, and that they would earn bonuses for correctly answering Favre trivia.

Across the Midwest, schools delayed opening so that kids could mimic their hero in sandlot football games. This meant children everywhere walked outside of their homes carrying footballs, only to decide they were no longer interested in playing. They walked back indoors, but reemerged seconds later, wearing different clothing, and expressing a new desire for the sport. After tossing the ball once*, the children said they wanted to spend more time with their families and ran back into their homes. Before one could bat an eye (or ask about family), the children then returned outdoors (again wearing different clothing), and said they were ready to play. It's clear that children idolize Mr. Favre.

*The toss was intercepted.

In Washington, inspired by Favre, democrats and republicans chose to put aside partisan politics, and listen to both sides of pressing issues. With a new sense of camaraderie, it was decided that Favre's face would be added to Mount Rushmore.

Favre's return has been a truly epic event, and we at The Writings could not be happier. Longtime readers know how much we love the idea of an aging quarterback holding different franchises in limbo while attempting to decide if he's willing to play another season. They know we love the second-by-second coverage that major media outlets give Favre*. With the contract official, readers now have to know that we think those in the Vikings front office are uber-geniuses for signing an aging QB who threw as many interceptions as touchdowns last season to a two-year, $25 million contract. Brilliant!

*Who wouldn't want to know if a 39-year-old quarterback flossed this morning?

 We at The Writings certainly aren't ROOTING FOR THE VIKINGS TO LOSE EVERY GAME THEY PLAY THIS SEASON. We also certainly don't WANT TO SEE FAVRE CHALLENGE GEORGE BLANDA'S RECORD FOR INTERCEPTIONS THROWN IN A SEASON (42). No, we here at The Writings are thrilled that every NFL recap show this season will ignore quality recaps of every game played in favor of dissecting Favre's choice of ways to stay regular.

The Writings: We're thrilled... THRILLED... that Favre is coming back. As thrilled as we are about attending LatFest 09.

It's time to seek help.

When a person has self-destructive tendencies, it is always best for that person to seek help. Many have done it, and now it's my turn. You see, I have an addiction. One that leads to little more than frustration, heartache, and the urge to stick one's hand into a garbage disposal. I know how feeding this addiction leaves me feeling. I've known for years.

I used to be able to fool myself into thinking that my actions were rational; that what I was doing might somehow pay off in the end. Now, as I get older, I may be seeing the error of my ways. I know I have a problem, and I know it's one I've brought upon myself. The only thing left to do is address it head on.

Hi. My name is Derek, and I am a Royals fan.

It's good to have that out there.

Back in April, the Royals became a trendy pick to be the winner of the American League Central. Some off-season transactions combined with a stellar month of play last September instilled many - including the author - with the idea that the Royals could put things together and win a relatively weak division. At first, it seemed that such hopes might have firm backing, as KC opened the season by winning 18 of its first 29 games.

My, how things have changed. After falling to the Tigers tonight, the Royals are 45-70, at the bottom of their division, and they have won more games than just one other team in all of Major League Baseball.

It's true, being a fan of a team during one disappointing season doesn't call for an intervention, but the Royals have only had one winning season since the 1994 strike year. Each of the 15 seasons since, I have conjured up optimism, fooling myself into thinking, "This could be a good year." At the end of most of those seasons, I felt like I did at the end of the third movie in the Matrix trilogy. I was searching for answers and occasionally muttering, "What just happened?"

The big victim of this disappointing 2009 has to be Zack Greinke, a pitcher considered by some to be the best in the American League. Earlier tonight, Greinke tossed seven shutout innings against the Detroit Tigers, the top team in the AL Central. He struck out seven Detroit batters and gave up just 3 hits. It was a stellar outing; one you might expect from a Cy Young Award-caliber pitcher. It was a performance that results in victory 13 times out of 14.* The Royals lost 1-0 when relief pitcher Roman Colon gave up a walk-off home run to Brandon Inge.

*I have not actually done the math on this.

Greinke entered tonight's game leading the American League in earned run average and was second in strikeouts. Despite his dominating numbers, the Royals have won just 11 of the 24 games he has pitched in.

Collectively, the Royals have the lowest team on-base percentage and have scored the second-fewest runs in the American League. Their lineup tonight featured a journeyman catcher batting cleanup and the third-string catcher as designated hitter. Their offense this season has been slightly more intimidating than a puppy that just learned to chase its tail.

Despite the disappointing year, the Royals front office made no moves at the recent trading deadline. There was no attempt to drop dead weight, no pursuit of young, promising prospects. Nothing.

A well person would probably have learned his lesson by now. A well person would have been subjected to three or four years of disappointment and then moved on to something else, like sewer fishing, razor wire climbing, or buffalo tipping. A well person would not be crafting this writing. Some might suggest giving personal wellness a try.

I've addressed the issue. Now, I have to figure out the next step. Some might suggest just buying a Cardinals cap. Others would say I need to move closer to another Major League team. Others would suggest giving up baseball altogether and maybe switching my fandom to soccer, cricket, or jai alai. Alas, I'm the one in control here, so it's my decision to make.

...

...

... Hey, the Royals play at 12:05 p.m. tomorrow. Maybe a Luke Hochevar start is just what they need.

Forget wellness.

Tales from the Road - Days 3-5

To continue the common theme here at The Writings of posting things after they are no longer timely, this summation of days 3-5 of the Road Trip of Derek Larson comes two days after I returned home. This lack of punctuality was the plan all along.*

*Cough*LIAR*cough.

In our last post - which may be commonly referred to as The Epic of Derek, thanks to it's absurd length* - Derek traveled to Arkansas, caught a Double-A baseball game, was awaken by some sort of terrorist infiltration alarm, and traveled across Missouri into Illinois. As we pick things up in part 2 of The Epic, our protagonist is departing from his stay in Galesburg, Ill., and headed toward Clinton, Iowa.

*The Cliffs Notes will be available in bookstores soon.

News flash - I can be easily distracted. While I do not officially have Attention Deficit Disorder, at times I like to consider myself as an honorary member of the ADD society. With one task on my mind, the simple sight of something out of the ordinary ("Ooh, an Arby's!") can throw me off completely. This journey marks one such occasion, as it seems some sort of distraction led me to divert from my intended route. I pulled into a gas station, grabbed my road atlas, and attempted to gain my bearings. It was at this time that I found an alternate route guaranteed to be more scenic, as it would travel right along the Mississippi River. After a quick discussion with my navigator*, this new route was accepted, and I was back on track.

*I do my best to make talking to myself sound reasonable.

 While the alternate route brought a bit of frustration, courtesy massive road construction efforts, it also brought provided the opportunity to assuage my inner gambler.



At the sight of a casino, I slammed on my brakes, swerved to the right, hopped a curb, parked illegally, jumped from my car and ran inside, shouting "ching, ching" all the way. Sprinting up to the nearest roulette table, I put $500 on red, only to see that little ball settle on 26 black. Discouraged, but not defeated, I continued to feed the gambling demon inside me, only to leave when I had lost all my cash and I discovered they wouldn't accept my scorecard from the Northwest Arkansas Naturals game as a bet. As a result, I currently live in the streets of Davenport, Iowa, and I'm typing this Writing from the laptop of a Starbucks customer who is currently in the restroom.


Remember when I said I can be easily distracted? Consider the previous paragraph as proof. In truth, as I drove through Davenport, I found that this area of town along the river seemed to be a pretty nice location. Thanks in part to the Holiday Inn's "You'll Wake Up and You'll Like It" alarm from the morning before, I was well ahead of schedule, so I decided to stop and check things out. I did go and check out the casino, however my gambling exploits were not as bold as those detailed above. Embracing my "wuss bets" nature, I played nothing but penny and nickel slots. I left with $6 less than I arrived with, and the knowledge that this particular casino was basically a retirement home with smoking, drinks, and slot machines. I'm pretty confident I was the youngest person there by about 40 years.







After departing the casino, I took a stroll along the river. It was there that I encountered a rather large (read: obese), shirtless man, who wore shorts that appeared to be a bit too small; a wanna-be singer who was having a friend snap pictures of her on the stage of an ampitheater, and another large man who was putting his shirt on as he walked toward the casino. None of this is really relevant at all, but I am glad the last guy was going to follow the "no shoes, no shirt" policy at the casino.

A scenic trip on Highway 67 brought took me to Clinton, where I found the need to adjust my initial plans for lodging. Such changes were deemed necessary when I discovered that the hotel I orginally planned to stay at was located next to three rough looking bars and a gentleman's club. I decided this lodging option did not meet my strict standards for overnight stay options*, and found an alternate option.

*Rule No. 1 - Don't stay someplace where the odds of you getting stabbed are 1:1.

After settling in, I was off to Alliant Energy Field to see the Burlington Bees attempt to sting the Clinton Lumberkings.



 Hitting the highlights...

- The folks in Clinton seem to take the "park" in "ballpark" very seriously, as there seemed to be as many seats available at picnic tables around the field as there were in the stands. It gave the game the feel of a little league contest. Unfortunately, I did not witness any angry parents shouting from the stands or players sitting down in the outfield.

- The drop from Double-A ball to Single-A was noticeable. The stadium featured no video board, and names did not appear on jerseys, again contributing to a little league feel. Unfortunately, I'm unsure whether the teams went out for pizza after the game.

- During the eighth inning, the folks in the stadium PA box played the chicken dance. After watching those that participated, I determined this is the method used to determine who in the stadium is no longer sober enough to drive home.

- Instead of traditional ballpark vendors, this park featured waitresses walking around with serving trays and taking drink orders. I'm unsure whether LumberKings* management conducted studies to determine that drink sales increase when those in the stands feel like they're at a bar. If so, it seems that the next step is having a jukebox in the dugout and a pool table in the outfield.

*For those curious, it seems that a LumberKing is simply a lumberjack wearing a crown. I'm not sure how many lumberjacks in the world are actually of royal bloodlines, but it may be worth looking into.

- In regard to the actual baseball game that took place, Burlington picther Ivor Hodgson showed some pitches that moved as if they had minds of their own. He struck out 12 batters in just 5 2/3 innings. Burlington topped Clinton 6-4, putting Royals-affiliated squads at 1-1 on my trip.


Friday morning, I departed the wondrous city of Clinton on my way to Omaha, Neb. This trip called for driving the entire length of Iowa, from east to west. Luckily, I wasn't traveling alone. You see, a friend called rain decided to accompany me for a few hours that morning.



While the company provided by such precipitation was appreciated*, the rain and I decided to part ways before arriving in Des Moines. Because I had plenty of driving at hand and little time for detours, I drove Interstate 80 for the length of this trip. As a result, the scenery I witness on this journey could be summed up in one word: corn. By the time I reached Omaha, I was having a hard time distinguishing what was real and what was the result of cornfield overload hallucination. The Kellogg's Corn Flakes rooster on my shoulder telling me stop at every grocery store for Corn Flake goodness certainly wasn't helping, either.

*In the same way one appreciates a flesh-eating virus.

In Omaha, I found myself cursing the person who first came up with the idea of a one-way street. Driving through the downtown area, it seemed every turn I wanted to make involved going the wrong way on a one-way. With rebellion not being part of my nature, I fought such notions and drove through the city as if I was obeying a short-circuiting GPS unit. I don't consider it a good sign when you make it from one end of a city of 390,000 people to the other and still have no idea where you are going to be lodging. I'd say my meandering trip went unnoticed, but there are probably a few folks on street corners that noticed a car with Kansas plates drive by multiple times who would disagree.

After finally finding a place to lay my head that did not involve sneaking into the zoo, I was off to Rosenblatt Stadium.



I gathered from the souvenir program that the theme for the 2009 Omaha Royals is "Fun Rules!" Sadly, the Royals entered the contest sitting at the bottom of the Pacific Coast League. Fun may rule, but it apparently doesn't involve success.

One thing fun must involve is screaming, as the kids in attendance treated the game as if it were a Jonas Brothers concert. I'm not sure why a t-shirt toss calls for ear-crippling cries, but apparently it must be listed in the Fun Rulebook.

The Royals lost to the Las Vegas 51s, 6-4. Despite the losing effort, I enjoyed the chance to see the Triple-A Royals in action. For those unaware, Triple-A is the highest level of the minor leagues, meaning many players on this squad are one sprained ankle away from playing in Kansas City. The fact that the Triple-A version of the Royals is in last place, though, does not seem to say much for the immediate future for the major league club.

The big event following the game was a fireworks display, which I decided would serve as a replacement for the colorful explosions I missed seeing while away on business for Independence Day. This particular display proved noteworthy due to the soundtrack that accompanied the show. I'm not sure what exactly Ace of Base's "All That She Wants (is another baby)" or Inner Circle's "Bad Boys" (the theme from Cops) have to do with fireworks, but I'm sure there's an explanation out there somewhere. (Even if it involves a disgruntled employee.)

With my time in Omaha coming to a close, I discovered the following morning that the Days Inn in the city is apparently the preferred lodging for hobbits in the area. The showerhead was situated no higher than the top of my chest. I could handle such an issue, but I soon discovered another problem. It seemed that the hobbits that normally inhabit this room had an issue with hot water. The basic liquid intended to wash me reached a temperature no higher than that of soup that has been sitting out for a day. Before this trip, I knew I was not a morning person, but now I am wondering if mornings are taking offense to this fact. If I ever am run down by a steamroller that has been hijacked by an escaped gorilla, I am sure it will happen in the morning.

A Saturday trip to Kansas City gave me the chance to meet up with my brother and some close friends for the final baseball game of the trip - a battle between the Kansas City Royals and the Oakland A's at "The New" Kauffman Stadium.



While I can be considered a bit of a loner, (or a hermit,) I definitely enjoyed the chance for a little human interaction after days of talking to few ballparkgoers that would pass a sobriety test. I also relished the opportunity to take in the sights at the renovated stadium. It definitely impressed, and I'm looking forward to going there again for the chance to check out new Royals Hall of Fame.

During the game, I discovered one detail about Royals fans that cannot be argued: they're literate. Everytime the stadium video board urged fans to get "louder" or "make some noise" such instructions were followed as if they were military commands. A study of cause-and-effect relationships leads to the conclusion that fans must read the words on the board in order to comprehend them. Therefore, we have literate fans. I think there's a marketing slogan in there somewhere.

Royals ace pitcher Zack Greinke took the mound for the Royals, and while he gave up more runs than he does normally (three... which speaks to how dominant he's been this season), the offense offered a performance very out-of-the-ordinary, scoring 12 runs. An excellent capper to the Road Trip of Derek Larson. The Royals topped the A's 12-6, pushing the Royals organization to a 2-2 record in games viewed by the author. Not too shabby.


With the trip now in the rear view mirror (figuratively and literally, in a figurative sort of way), I am not sure I could have picked a better agenda for this vacation. I got to see plenty of baseball, watch some upcoming prospects, view a lot of scenery along the open road, encounter a variety of people, and absorb plenty of material for The Writings. There's just one thing to do now... Figure out where the Second-Annual Road Trip of Derek Larson will take me.

Tales from the Road - Days 1 and 2

Ahh, vacation. If only it could come along more often. It gives one the chance to escape the incessant drone of everyday normalcy. It gives one the chance to hit the road and see new things. It gives one the chance to be unexpectedly awoken at 5 a.m. and be instilled with a momentary fear that their life will end in Arkansas... but, I'm getting ahead of myself.

The inaugural Road Trip of Derek Larson kicked off Tuesday morning. Unforeseen circumstances (e.g., the need for a pair of new tires. Nothing like shelling out cash before you even approach any road the trip involves.), pushed departure time back a couple of hours, but I soon found myself heading southeast, like a migratory bird whose inner compass is slightly askew.

After venturing through thriving metropolises (metropoli?) like Gas, Kan.*, and (insert indistinct town name here), Mo., I arrived in Springdale, Ark.

*Pun not originally intended, but the author chuckled upon realization.

As one who enjoys the finer things in life.. such as television and flim, I have noticed that Arkansas is oft characterized as a state full of southern yokels who might be as likely to marry a pig as they would be to bathe. I fully expected this erroneous depiction to be rendered moot right away. Unfortunately, the man at the hotel counter chose to fuel the fire.

How so?

Let's just say the moon was bright in the Holiday Inn.

That's right, when I strolled into the hotel, the first thing I was greeted by was the sight of a large man bent at the waist so he could lean on the check-in counter, with his pants drooping a quarter of the way down his backside... Welcome to Arkansas, Derek.*

*While this story is true, most folks I encountered in Arkansas were very nice folks. I'd also like to stress that I saw no one married to a pig. 

After Arkansas' Grand Canyon made his exit, I booked a room and that was that... Well sort of. This would normally be a rather mundane portion of the trip, but the guy working the check-in counter sounded identical to Jonah Hill, of Superbad (and other movies) fame. He also looked a bit like him, which made the situation even more eerie. I nearly asked him to say a line from one of his movies, but my better judgment won out. (Lousy brain.)

After some unwinding at the hotel, it was off to Arvest Field, to witness my first minor league baseball game. In post-game wrap fashion, we'll hit the highlights...

As I approached the stadium, I was greeted by the Arkansas branch of the Scottish National Guard. While I may have misidentified these gentlemen, their music was, well, bagpipey. Unfortunately, because I grew up watching professional wrestling, I paused for a bit waiting for Rowdy Roddy Piper to make an entrance. He never showed up.

Once inside, I strolled around the concourse to check things out. There was an autograph booth set up, with no line whatsoever. Like an eight-year-old at his first ballgame, I soon found myself asking two guys (both younger than me) for their autographs, even though I did not recognize their names. Afterward, I grabbed a hotdog and a soda (total price - waaaay more than they were worth. It seems that major league food prices still apply in minor league parks.), and found a picnic table in the shade to eat a bit. During this time, the folks controlling the pregame music decided it would be a good idea to play Eiffel 65's "I'm Blue." At this point I found myself trying to decide whether it was done on a bet, or if the "DJ" had enjoyed a few pregame drinks. I'm still not sure what was going on.



After eating, I reluctantly left the comfort of the shade to find my seat. I discovered one big positive about minor league baseball - excellent seats for low cost. The above picture was taken from the comfort of seat 16 in row D. Unfortunately, that line of shade was still 30 minutes away at this point.

For those interested in the actual baseball aspect of this experience, the game featured the Northwest Arkansas Naturals (the Kansas City Royals' AA affiliate) and the Tulsa Drillers (the Colorado Rockies' AA affiliate). Sitting four rows back from the field with my Royals cap on, I figured I might encounter others sporting something similar. I figured wrong. I spotted no other fans wearing any sort of gear promoting the big league club. In fact, I only spotted two other people in the stadium wearing anything relating to Major League Baseball at all. One was wearing a Ryne Sandberg Cubs jersey, the other donned a Vernon Wells Blue Jays t-shirt. I hope to one day figure out how fan gear of a Hall of Famer who retired 12 years ago and a guy who plays in Canada relates to that particular contest in Springdale... Some day.

As the game progressed, I was reminded that some baseball terminology is easier to decipher than others. This reminder was generously provided by the absolutely clueless woman sitting directly behind me. Perhaps the baseball geek that often fuels my thinking is the only one that would notice this, but she incorrectly used the phrase "1-2-3 inning" twice in a three-inning span. For those that might be unaware, a "1-2-3 inning" is a half-inning in which all three outs are recorded in consecutive fashion. No hits. No walks. No catcher interference. Nothing but outs. This vocal fan, who seemed to always make sure all around were listening to her, deemed one inning that of the 1-2-3 variety, despite the fact that only two outs had been recorded. A couple innings later, she pulled the phrase out again, even though a hitter had singled earlier and had been standing on first base - just 20 yards away from her, for a few minutes. The situation served as a strong reminder that one should only speak knowledgeably of a subject if they actually are knowledgeable of said subject.*

*Editor's note: The author has been reminded that he often uses this very space to write about subjects he knows virtually nothing about. Forgive him. He's a little slow.

As the game carried on, I noticed that I was the only - ONLY - individual seated in my entire row. Granted, the ballpark certainly wasn't full, but this seemed excessive. There were 18 seats, but just one seat filler. That situation dissolved when a quartet of guys arrived a few minutes. These four, who all appeared to be around 30 and were downing beers like the keg was almost empty, seemed to have their pick of seats in my section. They chose my row, which was fine. They chose my end of the row, which was fine. They chose the four seats directly to my right. This was a bit odd. I seached the depths of my mind in attempt to think of a situation where I might have invited four heavy drinkers to come to the ballgame with me. The search drew no results.

For the next few innings, I was "treated" to their "side-splitting jokes" and "hilarious mockery" of the opposing first base coach... Okay, enough of the sarcasm, these guys were basically the baseball fan versions of any obnoxious drunk you may have ever encountered. Their "jokes" consisted of little more than talking about how the first base coach was not in the coach's box (although they laughed like the Full House laugh track every time it was mentioned), and their taunting of the coach did not turn out so well. You see, Tulsa's first base coach was also the hitting coach, and the Drillers scored 11 runs on 16 hits. Advantage: coach.

The sudsy crew left before the end of the game, as did most other fans. Before they left I caught a t-shirt thrown by Strike the Naturals' mascot, despite the fact that Norm (made up name for inebriated individual next to me) was draped over me like an NFL defensive back. At this point I did a touchdown dance, shoved the shirt in his face, and told him to bring his 'A' game next time... In reality, I listened to his slurred ramblings, showed him the shirt he almost had, and sat back down to continue keeping score. Sorry, readers who enjoy personal conflict, I'm mild-mannered.



The picture above tells the story. One game on The Road Trip of Derek Larson down, one Royals-affiliated loss witnessed. Nevertheless, there were a few players I was impressed with. If I had to pick four names of players to keep an eye out for in years to come, I'd say David Lough (centerfielder), Jarrod Dyson (leftfielder), Jeff Bianchi (shortstop), and Juan Abreau (relief pitcher, hit 96 on the radar gun).

Back at the hotel, I soon felt like I was losing another battle. I discovered that my lodging place of choice did not feature free Internet access or a free breakfast for the following morning, and the pillows on my bed were thicker than most couch cushions. When lying in bed, I felt as if my neck was being contorted in impossible ways.

Luckily*, I didn't have to deal with these substandard conditions for long. At 5:08 a.m. the next morning, I awoke to the sound of an alarm the likes of which one hears on television when some sort of secure goverment facility has been infiltrated by evil-doers. Thanks to a working knowledge of the television show '24', I realized that nothing good comes about when CTU security is breached, so I had little chance to survive at a Holiday Inn. I listened to the voice accompanying the alarm instructing all to head downstairs via the stairway, got dressed in rattled fashion, grabbed a couple belongings, and took off for the lobby. 

*Is luckily the right word?

In the lobby, I encountered a bevy of other hotel occupants looking as disheveled as I was. What was the emergency? Who had broken in? Where was the fire? The questions were tossed about. The answer was that it all was well. While it was a relief to hear, it was also a bit disturbing to hear the hotel employee refer to the false alarm situation as something that happens "periodically."

Pardon? Full moons happen periodically. False alarms in a hotel that instill all staying there with a sense of unrest at an early hour should not. 

Now awake a full three hours earlier than I had originally planned, I chose to embrace opportunity and hit the road.

Planned as a rather uneventful travel day, after the morning's surprise, this day reverted to the uneventful route as I rolled out of Arkansas, all the way across Missouri and into Illinois. The highlights:

- When ordering a CroisSonic sandwich and a cherry Sprite for breakfast at Sonic, the communications specialist on the other end of my order decided it would be a good idea to ask if I would like mozzerella sticks, as well. Hmmm... deep fried cheese first thing in the morning. Tempting, but I had to pass.



-Prior to this trip, I had no idea that there was a city called Mexico in Missouri. Having never been to Mexico (aside from the "New" version of it), I had stop in. Erring on the side of caution, I chose not to drink the water.

- I discovered that western Illinois has some of the worst highways I have ever encountered. The state of their roadways is downright shabby. You know the feeling when you are clinking along as you climb the initial slope of a roller coaster? That's similar to the bumpy sensation I encountered on several highways in the western part of the state.


Two days, and nearly 2,000 words later, it's time for bed. Here's hoping morning arrives a bit later tomorrow.

Copyright Derek D. Larson