Writing of Doom

The Octagon of Doom.

It's a nickname for Kansas State University's Bramlage Coliseum that has suddenly gone mainstream. Much like the notion that Vin Diesel has discernable talent, no one is sure exactly where the nickname originated, but signs point to a K-State sports message board. Since Bramlage has taken a new national identity, it seems like now is a good time to examine the name and determine whether it is a good fit for the arena.

First, there's "Octagon." For those who don't appreciate geometry, an octagon is a polygon with eight sides. Bramlage is a coliseum with eight sides. Using fancy algebraic equations*, we know that 8=8. Therefore, we can deduce that the term "Octagon" is an appropriate one in this instance.

*I haven't taken a math class since high school. This is about as fancy as my equations get.

Next up, "of doom." In this case, the preposition "of" means "having" so for this phrasing to be accurate, we need to determine whether or not Bramlage has doom. The best way to figure this out is to compare Bramlage to something that we already know has doom; something like the temple from Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom.

Think about that temple. In it, a person some people fear and other despise tears out the hearts of innocents with a bare hand. Sounds a little bit like what Sherron Collins did the other night, no?

Prior to arriving at the temple, Indiana Jones and friends take part in a banquet that features extravagant dishes like monkey brain stew. Odds are that PETA's annual meeting wouldn't feature a catered meal with that dish. PETA also doesn't approve of the idea of live chickens being thrown onto the Bramlage Coliseum court.

In the Temple of Doom, Indy, his lady friend, and Short Round take a ride in a mine cart on a track that features more ups and downs than most rollercoasters. What do you know, this sounds like a bit of Saturday night's game, too. Standing in Bramlage, I was pretty convinced K-State had lost the game a few times. Then I was convinced they had won a few other times. Then I was pretty convinced Dominique Sutton should have been shooting a couple free throws to break a tie at the end of regulation. Then, after Collins hit his shot and was fouled (according to the refs) near the end of overtime, I was pretty convinced that I should push myself down the Bramlage steps... Sounds like a roller coaster to me. 

Outside the Temple of Doom, folks think they're safe, but then a bridge collapses and those who previously felt comfort in the fact that they were supported by a bridge were eaten by vicious crocodiles. Outside Bramlage, folks who leave the arena get to the comfort of their cars in the parking lot, only to soon discover that the parking lot empties so slowly that they may not see an actual road for another 40 minutes. By that time, one might be wishing they'd been eaten by starving, razor-toothed reptiles.

Heart removal, animals, roller coasters and situations that make a person wish for an end to suffering... It seems that "of doom" is an accurate description for The Octagon.

Octagon, check.

Of Doom, check.

Yup, the name fits.

What They're Saying - Basketball Announcer Edition

I enjoy watching basketball. Those close to me realize that statement is akin to saying "as a child, my head was too large for my body and I'm still working on growing into it," or "I have the balance of a one-legged yak." In other words, it states the blatantly obvious. Unfortunately, there's one thing that can foul up a televised basketball game pretty quickly. No, I'm not talking about an appearance by Drew Gooden (though that doesn't help). No, I'm referring to shoddy game commentary. Though one might think it would be difficult to clib the media ranks to the point that your calling a nationally televised game, a number of announcers seem to do their best to make it seem like all you need for the profession is the ability to put together complete sentences now and then.*

*Unfortunately, this requirement eliminates me from applicants for this job pool. I'm fairly confident that if I were tasked with speaking on live television, my "commentary" would consist of continually repeating the word "ball" and maybe occasionally saying "OOOOOOOHHHHHH" in surprised manner.

With that in mind, it's time to introduce the inaugural installment of What They're Saying - a look at the drivel passed off as worthwhile commentary.

"I've never heard an arena this loud."
The sports announcing equivalent to "You're the prettiest girl I've ever seen." Rarely is it an hoest assessment and certain folks use it all the time.

"I've always thought that what you want to do on your opening possession is give yourself a good chance to score."
Insightful. I've always thought that scoring helps a team win basketball games. Where's my check?

"X takes it to the hoop."
"X goes to the basket."
X is short for Xavier- a player's first name in this instance. Please, Mr. Musburger, I find it difficult to believe you're in Xavier's five. With that in mind, it might be time to ditch the nicknames.

... This series will be continued in the future. Alas, while I do enjoy watching basketball, there is one thing that can foul up the broadcast even worse than shoddy announcing. It involves a certain team to the east grabbing a big lead. I can't watch this.

The Facts of Life - Taking the Good and the Bad of the Royals' Offseason

Each November, I approach the baseball off-season with cautious optimism. After all, this could be the year that the Royals decide to make a move or two that could really help push the team in the right direction. By the time January rolls around, I'm usually trying to convince myself that Kansas City's signing of a washed-up player will be just what the team needs. (Reggie Sanders? We can't lose!) The Royals' 2009-2010 off-season has certainly not been short on activity thus far, but has the activity been worthwhile? Only time will tell. Sure, I could detail my own personal verdict on each move, but such opens the door for me to really look like an idiot in the future, and that's already guaranteed to happen for a variety of other reason. Nevertheless, I can't ignore the transactions entirely. What follows is a quick rundown of both the good and the bad relating to each move. Judge for yourself...

Royals trade 3B/OF/1B/2B/Radio Personality/Security Guard/Hot Dog Vendor Mark Teahen to the Chicago White Sox for 2B Chris Getz and 3B/OF Josh Fields.
The good - Getz is a better defensive 2B than the incumbent Alberto Callaspo. Fields hit 23 home runs in 2007. Teahen has never developed into a consistent offensive force.
The bad - As you can see in the details of the deal, KC loses a player with a load of versatility. In Teahen, they also lose one of the team's most likable players. (And if you're going to lose, you at least want your players to be likable.... Sorry, Jose Guillen.) In return, the Royals got a 2b and a 3B, filling holes at... well, nowhere. The team already had Callaspo at 2B and ever-ready-to-breakout Alex Gordon at 3B. Trading for a SS, C, CF or pitcher might have made more sense.

Royals sign C Jason Kendall
The good - Kendall is a three-time All Star who has caught in the postseason four times. He fills a hole behind the plate.
The bad - He's 35. His last All Star season was 10 years ago, when folks were trying to sell off the rations they'd previously collected for Y2K. The Royals fought logic and signed him for two years when they could have kept a younger catcher for a cheaper salary. He once did (warning: sickening photo ahead) this to his ankle.

Royals sign OF Brian Anderson
The good - They signed the outfield version of Brian Anderson rather than the pitcher version, who allowed 23 earned runs in just 30 innings pitched in his last season with the Royals.
The bad - Anderson is a 27-year-old that can play CF, but has never really proven himself at the Major League level... Sounds an awful lot like Mitch Maier, who the Royals already have on their roster. This is kind of like buying a season of LOST on DVD when you already have recorded all of the episodes on your DVD recorder.*

*Sorry, I have LOST on my mind. Just over a week until the new season starts...  (This footnote brought to you by ABC.)

Royals sign P Noel Arguelles
The good - A Cuban defector, Arguelles was one of the top pitchers on the Cuban national team.
The bad - Believe it or not, my knowledge of the Cuban national team is limited. His arm could be attached with three twist ties and I would not know any different.

Royals sign OF Scott Podsednik
The good - Posednik once stole 70 bases in a season. He was an All Star in 2005. That same season, he hit two triples and a home run to help the White Sox top the Houston Astros in the World Series.
The bad - He'll be 34 when the season starts, meaning much of the speed he once had could have vanished like Brett Favre's chance at another Super Bowl*. He's not particularly strong when it comes to getting on base and certainly not when it comes to hitting with power. Also, much like David Dejesus, he's a better fit for left field than center.

*Sorry. I know this is a baseball Writing, but it's tough to contain the glee that comes with knowing that something aside from Brett Favre coverage will be on television over the next two weeks.

Royals sign OF Rick Ankiel
The good - This. As you can see, Ankiel, a former pitching phenom, is able to make good use of his arm in the outfield. He hit 25 home runs in 2008; good news for a club that ditched two of it's top power hitters from a year ago.
The bad - He hit just 11 home runs last season and batted .231. He walks about as frequently as a 799-lbs. man. His range in the outfield leaves much to be desired and the Royals' roster already features so many outfielders that one wonders if they're going to field an infield at all.

With Spring Training still over a month away, it's possible the Royals could still make another move. Will it be worthwhile? Only time will tell. (Though sarcastic opinions help pass the time.)

Copyright Derek D. Larson

Copyright Derek D. Larson

Hooked 'em

Though a former president (or at least his SNL portrayl) warned against it many times, on Monday night the K-State Wildcats messed with Texas. With a national audience and an arena packed so full that students were standing in the aisles, the Wildcats out-hustled, out-fought, and generally out-played the Texas Longhorns - the No. 1 team in the nation. Not bad for a team that finished 6-10 in conference play just four years ago.

Though they are ranked in top 10 by both nationally respected polls*, The Writings have yet to really delve into what makes the 09-10 Wildcats a team to talk about. You can probably chalk to that up to two-parts laziness, one-part fear of causing some sort of jinx. No, I'm not really superstitious and I haven't read Pedro Cerrano's Guide to Voodoo, but sometimes a person is just overly cautious. (I often push over ladders just to avoid the possibility of accidentally climbing and then falling off of them.) Nonetheless, some combination of my journalistic instincts (of which their are few) and my sheer excitement about what this team could potentially accomplish (of which there is much) has made this a topic The Writings can no longer ignore. If you're prepared to attempt to follow a rambling diatribe hitting on all things Wildcats, keep reading. If not, keep reading anyway. Maybe you'll learn something. (The Writings: We're here to teach.)

*That's the AP and the ESPN/Coaches' poll. Estimated date of the Derek Larson poll also being nationally respected: Nov. 4, 2342.

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An aside, as I watch the replay of the game as I type: nice work by the ESPN camera crew on zooming in on a college student wearing a cross on his neck while the crowd serenaded the referees with a chant that rhymes with gullspit... Yes, he was an integral part of the chant.
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If anything was made evident by last night's victory, it was that this team's true identity lies in sweating the small stuff. When the team is grabbing offensive rebounds, beating the opposing squad down the floor and making hustle plays is when it's at its best. Before last night, the argument could have been made that the Wildcats would stand no chance in games where guards Jake Pullen and Denis Clemente (the team's top two scorers) were not hitting shots. The fact that the Pullmente duo combined to shoot 4-for-24 on Monday night should help obliterate such theories.

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Bob Knight - who was an excellent coach, by the way... seriously, a legendary coach... I hold great respect for his coaching ability - referred to K-State center Luis Colon (pronounced like "cologne" - a pleasing thought) as Colon (pronounced like the part of the body - a not-so-pleasing thought).
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Unlike teams from the past few years, this Kansas State squad is assembled in such a fashion that it can recover when its top scorers are rendered ineffective. Two years ago, in Frank Martin's inaugural campaign, if a team was able to negate Michael Beasley and Bill Walker, the scoring load fell to a freshman Pullen (who was not yet ready to be a go-to guy) and senior Clent Stewart (who averaged just under 7 points per game). Last year, Pullen and Clemente led the Wildcats in scoring, but beyond that pair, K-State depended on Darren Kent (whose best sport was golf) and Jamar Samuels (who a year ago was so skinny he was nearly invisible from a profile view).

This year, even when Pullen and Clemente are putting up enough bricks to build a new practice facility, the Wildcats have options. There's the sophomore version of Jamar Samuels, who tracks down offensive rebounds as if he's using GPS and is able to somehow complete shots after absorbing crushing contact from players like Dexter Pittman - a man so large he seems destined to one day battle The Undertaker at Wrestlemania. There's Curtis Kelly, who may not be well versed in consistency, but who is one of the top low-post scorers in the Big 12 when he's on his game. There's Rodney McGruder, a freshman whose playing time has varied, but who has made the most of the opportunities he's been given and has shown versatility in doing so. Against Texas, McGruder scored 11 off the bench with most coming around the rim. Earlier this season, McGruder showed off his long-range game, connecting on four 3-pointers and scoring 20 points in just 22 minutes.

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Reason #3,271 why sideline reporters are not necessary in basketball: by the end of the game, in-depth reports concern electrolyte jellybeans.
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It's a shame that the ESPN announce crew couldn't do enough homework to realize that Big 12 North teams only play those in the South once during the regular season... and one of them even coached in the conference.
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While the 2009-2010 season has shaped up to be far more than anyone (other than those that sit on the Wildcat bench each game) might have hoped so far, it is true that not everything is perfect surrounding this team. Depth in the post is questionable. The offense lacks movement. The team is prone to fouling. (A lot.) The freshmen are raw. All told, there's plenty of improvements this squad can still make. There are plenty of reasons to think that things could go awry.

Guess what... I don't care.

I once convinced myself to be optimistic about a K-State team whose top player was named Phineas and ended up winning a whopping 11 games. Annually, I talk myself into thinking the Kansas City Royals have a chance to compete in their division, only to wonder what in the world I was thinking by the time the calendar reads June. (Still working on that for 2010... Give me time.) My favorite NFL team has won a combined 10 games over the last three seasons. Based on my rooting history, you could almost argue that I'm a foul-weather fan. You will have to excuse me if I take a little pride when one of "my teams*" actually ascends to national prominence. Each Monday I'm going to wait impatiently for new polls to be released like a kid waiting to open Christmas gifts. After each victory, I'm going to watch Sportscenter solely to see K-State highlights. After each loss, I'm going to feel like someone just kneed me in the kidney. I'll continue to wear more purple than most people own think about K-State basketball far more than any person should.

I've always liked purple Kool-Aid.

*To the extent of my knowledge, I hold no actual legal ownership over any of the aforementioned teams. Despite the fact that a lot of my money has gone to the university throughout the years, administrators assure me that this is still the case.

Who's No. 1?

You can bet that The Writings cannot ignore K-State's huge win Monday night. Look for a writeup tonight.

Quality Customer Service

Typically, when one calls a publicly advertised number for a hotel, they expect to get the front desk. Today, I got a woman's cell phone.

Typically, when a hotel employee takes your call, they are near a computer so that they can easily look up reservation information. Today, the employee was on the second floor; far from her front desk computer.

Typically, in such cases, the employee might take down your phone number and volunteer to call you back once she has returned to her computer and is ready to handle data entry. Today, the woman said "wait a minute" and began walking.

Typically, someone in my position would be able to get on with other tasks while the hotel employee returned to her work area, knowing that a return call would be coming soon. Today, I overheard the clip-clap of every step she took as she walked down the hall, down some stairs, and to her workspace.

Sure, the end result was the same: the rooms I needed to book were booked. Nevertheless, I can't help feeling discouraged that I'll never get back those three minutes I spent listening to a woman's footsteps. Maybe technology isn't so great.*

*The irony of saying technology isn't great - despite the fact that: 1. I'm typing this on a computer that fits on my lap and 2. with the click of a button I'll "post" it to a "website" that can be immediately read by anyone in the world - is fully realized and appreciated.

The Rantings - Quick edition

Have you seen the Degree deodorant commercial where the guy jumps out of the plane with a shopping cart, soars down through the clouds, sticks a perfect 10 landing on a freeway and then, riding the cart like a grocery shopper on meds, zips between two semis? Have studies shown that this type of advertising works for deodorant? Honestly, I don't care if my sport stick makes me feel like a suicidal shopper. I'd just like to make sure it doesn't smell like moldy burritos.

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The Black Eyed Peas' song "I Gotta Feeling" seems to be everywhere right now. It's on commercials. It's played on football game broadcasts. It's played on basketball game broadcasts. It's taught to school children instead of the Pledge of Allegiance.* The song is everywhere, yet it's not even a good song. Sure it's easy to learn. (Repeat the phrase "tonight's gonna be a good night" approximatly 437 times and you pretty much have it nailed down.) Sure it has the creepy computer-modified singing that is so popular these days. (If I wanted to hear robots sing, I'd take Mickey Mouse hostage and have my only demand be that I get to ride the "It's a Small World After All" ride until I fall over dead from the overbridled joy that can only be induced by animatronic children of the world uniting in song.) And sure, it debuted at No. 2 on the Billboard Hot 100. (a list that I'm fairly certain is determined by deaf bush babies that are sleep-deprived.) But the fact remains that any song that states something like "tonight's gonna be a good night" is guaranteed to be played during some of the worst moments of people lives in very ironic fashion. (See: It's a Great Day to be Alive.")

*I may have made one of those facts up. Try to guess which one.

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There's plenty more to rant on, but I'm typing this while as tired as a sleep-deprived bush baby. The Rantings will return.

The People's Post

As snow blows with the force of a behind-schedule UPS truck outside my window, "celebrities" appear on my television reading corny jokes from teleprompters and shouting "what's up" in effort to draw crowd reaction. This can only mean one of two things: either I'll soon see the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse galloping through my parking lot or it's time for the People's Choice Awards.

Millions of people all over the nation vote to determine the winners of these awards. How do my opinions stack up with those of the nation at large (or at least those that actually care about the People's Choice Awards)? How out of touch am I when it comes to what's hip*? There's only one way to find out. It's time, once again, to pay entirely too much attention to pointless television and comment about it in a location that few will ever read it. Sounds productive to me.

*Case in point: who still uses the word "hip"?

Favorite Comedy Movie
The People's Choice Award nominees for Favorite Comedy Movie are He's Just Not that Into You, Bride Wars, 17 Again, The Proposal, and The Hangover. I consider myself a huge fan of comedy motion pictures, yet I have seen just one of these movies. Why? Because I'm not a 13-year-old girl. If our society has any chance of surviving much longer, The Hangover must win.

Winner: The Proposal
Folks, this is not a good start. Granted, I may have spent most of 2009 dateless (cue sympathy from reader... followed by pity) and therefore avoiding date movies completely, but even if I had company, I would have a hard time placing that movie in my DVD player without first ramming a toothpick into my retina. Something tells me that might end the evening early.

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Either my DVR just had a glitch or the CBS profanity censor just bleeped out the second syllable of Cate Blanchett's last name prior to a preview of the new Robin Hood film. Holy chett!
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Favorite R&B Artist
I have no opinion whatsoever in this category. I only mention it because the folks in charge of this whole program decided that the country group Rascal Flatts should present the award. This makes about as much sense as having me present an award for tightrope walking.

Winner: An awkward speech by Mariah Carey.

Favorite TV Comedy Actor
Nominees: Alec Baldwin, Skinny nerd from Big Bang Theory, Emilio Estevez's brother, Steve Carell, Doogie Howser
Time to redeem yourself, people. Pick Steve Carell as The Office's Michael Scott.

Winner: Score one for Derek, as Mr. Carell wins it.

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Jeff Probst comes out to announce that the next season of Survivor will be heroes versus villains. For a moment I get a little excited to see people like Hulk Hogan, The Joker, Michael Corleone and Benjamin Linus battling to be the one true survivor. Then I watched the preview. Titles are misleading.
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Favorite TV Comedy
Nominees: The Big Bang Theory, The Office, Desperate Housewives, Two and a Half Men, How I Met Your Mother
Apparently the nominating committee was comprised of my sister and my sister alone, as three of her favorite shows are listed. I make it a point to watch exactly one of them. If The Office doesn't win, it's a crime against humanity.

Winner: The Big Bang Theory
I've discovered that when it comes to the word "comedy" I apparently interpret a much different definition than most people. You see, I expect to laugh at a comedy... Crazy idea, I know.

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Christian Slater appears, but it's not to announce a sequel to the cinematic masterpiece that was The Wizard. I've lost interest.
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Favorite Drama Actor
Nominees: Well, they have this one wrong from the start. Matthew Fox is the nominee from Lost, even though he's not the best actor on the show. Michael Emerson or Terry O'Quinn should have been the pick, and either would win. Lost is the best show on TV, after all*. Nonetheless, of the options given, if Matthew Fox doesn't win, Kiefer Sutherland should.

*This is not a debatable point.

Winner: Hugh Laurie's British accent that he doesn't use when acting.
This travesty falls on the nominating committee.

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For a category I'm not mentioning as I have no vested interest, Sandra Bullock just won an award. She's been on stage twice tonight. If there was ever a time to greenlight Speed 3: The Rickshaw Rolleth, this is it.
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Favorite Action Star
Gerard Butler, Vin Diesel, Shia Labeouf, Christian Bale, Hugh Jackman
I'm fine with any pick as long Diesel doesn't find his way to the stage in fast or furious fashion.

Winner: Not Diesel.
Whew.

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Wolfboy* from the Twilight film wins Favorite Breakout Movie Actor. He says his People's Choice Award wouldn't have happened without "the people." He also wins the award for Most Obvious Statement. Congratulations!

*Is his character's name really Wolfboy? I have no clue. Will I bother finding out? Nope. He's just living in Teen Wolf's shadow, anyway.
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Because DiGiorno is apparently "the people's pizza," slices are now being delivered to folks in the PCA audience. This show is about to earn the award for Loudest Collective Shout of "Oh Sweet Mercy!" After Burning the Roof of One's Mouth on Molten Hot Cheese.
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The evening ends with Johnny Depp winning awards for Favorite Actor and Actor of the Decade. Apparently I missed the category for Favorite Blog Containing the Words "Writings" "Derek" and "Larson." Stupid TV.

Catching Up

It's time to play catch-up.

I'm not sure what the official rules of catch-up are, and odds are that I'm not very good at it. Nevertheless, The Writings have been without a fruitful* update since seemingly the Carter administration, so it's time to address a few things.

*What does a "fruitful" update on The Writings involve? Probably some combination of sarcasm, cynicism, absurdity, and self-deprication. Fruit is optional.

Away we go...

- It seems far too many interesting events in my life take place at Burger King. Whether it's simply because I've lived just a block down from the fast food eatery for the past 2.5 years or it's because I'm destined to act as The King in future commercials, I'll never be sure; all I know is that I have left the aforementioned restaurant with more interesting stories than most roaming minstrels. Though the most recent occurrence took place weeks ago, it's still fresh in my mind.

Seeking food morsels to assuage the hunger pangs brought on by a night of K-State basketball, my brother and I headed down to the land of royal burgers. Upon walking in, we took spots in line behind three college kids. While two listened, the third told what seemed to be a never-ending tale about how he planned to walk on to the university's football team. The story sticks in my mind because of the absurdity that came packed with each additional sentence. The kid was probably 5'9 and weighed close to 160 lbs., so he certainly didn't have size in his favor. It's true that many football players have overcome a lack of size on the gridiron, but those players normally do so with uncanny speed. (That, or they're played by Sean Astin in a non-hobbit role.) The wannabe walk-on did brag to his friends about his quick feet, but I did not find his argument to be that convincing. After all, how much clout can be put in claiming to be "probably the fastest guy in my dorm"?

Rudy Jr.'s tales of wishful glory carried on and on. They carried on to the point that I realized something was wrong - and it was just this guy's sense of reality. You see, from the start of Mr. Imagination's tale to the point where his buddies were showing far too much interest in the fictional reality, the BK line never moved. In fact, as time passed like a cooling french fry, no store employee ever even stood near the register. There was a flurry of activity back in the kitchen, with employees piecing together sandwiches and discussing their favorite Whopper ingredients*. Employees were everywhere; everywhere but at the register to take orders and actually make money. After what seemed like a burgerless, delusion-filled eternity, I finally asked the three guys in front of us in line if there had been anyone at the register in the time they had been there. The answer: no. After a thoughtful conversation ("Want to go somewhere else?" "Yes."), my brother and I evacuated the premises and moved on to a place that would actually provide us with some food upon request.

*Assumption.

Just another night at the neighborhood BK.


- I saw the nerdically* acclaimed motion picture Avatar. Upon viewing it, I learned three things:

1. Though it may initially sound cheesy to say you're going to a 3D movie, the picture quality is borderline-beautiful. It's really a film that needs to be seen in the theater to full appreciate.

2. My head is too large to be able to comfortably wear the new generation of 3D glasses. The film was good, but watching it without feeling as if my head was in a vice would have made it a bit better.

3. If this documentary is meant to be believed, the Blue Man Group is actually comprised of aliens from the future.


- In lessons learned from a 17-month old:

1. No matter what you're eating, you should always try asking for a cookie. Be sure to hold the second syllable of "cookie" for much longer than necessary, making your request undeniably cute. ("Cook-ieeeeeeeeeee?")

2. If your request for a cookie goes unheeded, you should approach another person and place the same inquiry.

3. If this request is also disregarded, continue asking other individuals for a cookie until you get your wish.

4. When you aren't focused on food, a good hobby is checking to see if your dolls have dirty diapers. Naturally, you do so by holding a doll upside-down by it's ankles and saying "poopy doll."

Closed for the Holidays?

Many businesses take a few days off for the holiday season. Some take a full week.

It seems that we at The Writings feel the length of such breaks is not nearly sufficient. As a result, it's been over two weeks since the last blog update. Never fear, dear readers, updates are on the horizon; exciting updates involving topics like:

- A look back at 2009.

- The emergence of the K-State men's basketball team.

- The folks one encounters at games for the aforementioned team.

- The manipulative minds of one-year-olds.

- And, of course, yet another update from the neighborhood Burger King.

Stay tuned.

Lesson of the Day

During the course of tonight's Monday Night Football game I have experienced a laundry list of feelings, including:
- confidence;
- discouragement;
- joy;
- outrage;
- insecurity;
- denial;
- acceptance;
- exuberance;
- fear; and finally,
- relief.

All aforementioned feelings took place because the semi-finals of my fantasy football league hinged on this game.

The lesson, as always: I really have no life.

Copyright Derek D. Larson

Attention Shoppers

Christmas is just around the corner (figuratively) and I've still got holiday shopping to complete. Luckily for this guy, we live in the age of online shopping, meaning I can buy gifts from the comfort of my couch, rather than doing something as physically taxing as walking in a store. The web contains a bevy of options for shoppers who enjoy avoiding human interaction at all costs, with one of the most popular being the online auction site, ebay. As a service to you, the reader*, I'm scouring ebay to find the best deals this holiday season. Sit tight, because you'll be in a bidding-war in no time.

*Replace "reader" with any of the following, as necessary: indifferent observer, lovesick stalker, bloodlusting stalker, confused person looking for something with literary value, individual researching different ways to whiff on jokes in a blog.

Want to show someone how much they truly mean to you this Christmas. Perhaps you should get them a gift that they'll have for the rest of their lives... and beyond. Imagine how surprised your loved one will be when they unwrap a granite headstone on Christmas morning. For the price of the stone, the seller will even engrave the full name, year of birth, and year of passing. Note: If you purchase one and attempt to predict your loved one's year of passing so that you wouldn't need to have it engraved again later, you may want to go ahead and purchase a stone for yourself - dated 2009 - as well.

Do you have someone with a sweet tooth on your shopping list? Have no fear, 21 packs of Japanese Candy are waiting for your bid. Where else but Japan can you get fruity gummy candy shaped like rice, tuna, octopus, salmon eggs, and broiled eel? I'm not sure what logic went into deciding that the tuna and salmon egg-shaped pieces should be strawberry-flavored, but I'm truly intrigued.

Perhaps you know someone that is very comfortable with their personal body odor, enjoys dressing up in costumes outside of Halloween, and gains unfathomable joy from scaring small children. If so, this Frosty costume is just for you. Oddly, this item currently has no bids. Who wouldn't want to pay nearly $400 to look like a snowman?

For the entertainment buff on your shopping list, what could be better than a hand-signed 8x10* of Kevin Sorbo. Mr. Sorbo not only starred in the epic television series "Hercules: The Legendary Journeys"**, but he showed his acting range by moving on to projects like "Kull the Conquerer" and "Hercules and Xena - The Animated Movie." $17.99 for this item? Hello, bargain.

*Am I the only one that would be more impressed to get a signature that had not been scrawled via hand? Give me a foot-signed photo anyday.

**See? Even the title tells you that the show was legendary.

Are you the cheap sort? The type that doesn't want to buy any gifts for anyone? Believe it or not, ebay can suit your needs, as well. Check out this listing for nothing. Unfortunately for you, it seems that even nothing costs something these days.

The Future, Conan?

News came out recently that Kansas City is a finalist on the list of cities being considered as potential World Cup soccer match hosts in 2018 or 2022. In speaking about the possibility, Mayor Mark Funkhouser mentioned that feels soccer is the "sport of the future." Such a proclamation brought forth immediate concern in my mind. After all, in my 27 years as a functioning (mostly) human, the only soccer games I have watched from start to finish were those that involved writing a game story afterward and receiving a (meager) paycheck down the road.

The sport known as football everywhere but in America is one that I have never been able to develop an appreciation of. Frankly, it bores me. Even when I was being paid to attend the games, the "action" often had me pondering more entertaining ways to spend my time before even 10 minutes had passed. Could I teach myself to balance my pen on my chin by the time the game wrapped up? Should I record my own play-by-play commentary on my electronic voice recorder?* If someone plotted my text messaging tendencies in 2006 on a graph, odds are that one would notice considerable peaks during the periods of time I spent watching soccer.

*"There's a kick... another kick... a kick to the fullback... Holy rotunda, another kick!"

Alas, the point of this Writing is not ridicule a sport so many around the world hold dear. The point is to express concern about our future. As a child, television, film, and video games taught me that nearly everything in the future would involve some combination of hoverboards, flying cars, rocket boosters, robots, space colonies, nearly invincible clones, lightweight body armor, meals in pill form, teleportation, and scary-smart artificial intelligence. Childhood Derek would be giddy at the mere thought of a sport that combined even half of those items listed. Now Adult* Derek has learned that - in at least one authority figure's opinion - the sport of the future involves running, kicking, and... more running.

*Term used loosely.

Is this really the best the future can offer? And does it really make sense to call something that has been around for ages the "(blank) of the future"? By this logic, we can say the Geo Metro is the car of the future, ABBA is the band of the future, and Burger Time is the video game of the future. It's my personal thinking that any and all "... of the future" should refer to things that have not yet been created (otterball* is the sport of the future), things that just recently hit the market (Droid is the phone of the future), or things that have yet to gain popularity (The Writings is the blog of the future**).

*What's otterball? Your guess is as good as mine.

**Checking to see if you're paying attention. If the blog of the future involves continual references to professional wrestling, we may all be in trouble.

Will Kansas City host World Cup Soccer in nine and/or 13 years? Only time will tell.

Will soccer be the hottest ticket in town in nine and/or 13 years? Is it the "sport of the future"? With this, I must disagree. Recent Major League Soccer attendance figures for KC seem to indicate that I'm not the only one who feels that way.

All the Thanks You Can Handle

It's that time of year again.

No, not the time of year where I attempt to buy stock in turkeys.

No, not the time of year where I grow depressed that the Chiefs have not won a playoff game since I was 12.

No, not the time of year where I start wearing football cleats everywhere I go in attempt to avoid disastrous slips on sneaky icy patches.

While all scenarios listed above are certainly feasible (and by "feasible" I mean either ridiculous or cripplingly disappointing), they also stray far from the point I am attempting to make. It's the time of year where giving thanks is the thing to do. Granted, one could put up a very good argument that there's always something to be thankful for. I could not agree more; however, since we are approaching the only holiday that actually contains the word "thanks" in its name*, it seems a good time to express the things I'm thankful for via The Writings.**

*Sorry, Thanksentine's Day. You'll get your recognition at some point.

**Nothing says, "thanks" like a seldom-read blog, right?

I'm thankful to be surrounded by an incredible family that supports me in whatever I do... Even if it involves numerous failed attempts at being funny and an in-depth account of an Ottawanian garage sale.

I'm thankful that the youngest member of my family is healthy, growing, and sharp as a tack. Sure, she'll carry around a globe and call it a basketball, but to the astute observer it's rather obvious that in doing so she's expressing her fondness for the Harlem Globetrotters. My guess is that she'll master this by the time she's two... and will be able to whistle "Sweet Georgia Brown" while she's doing it.

I'm thankful for a variety of friends that continue to tolerate me, even when I have nothing to add to the conversation but an obscure sports reference or television quote.

I'm thankful for The Office and seasons 3-11 of The Simpsons, as they have provided most of the material referred to in the aforementioned sentence.

I'm thankful for employment. I hear being a hobo isn't as glorious as it sounds.

I'm thankful for the opportunity to write. The fact that I have not lost any fingers to blood-thirsty doors is a true blessing.

I'm thankful for the chance to combine two things I enjoy - watching sports and writing - when the opportunity presents itself. Message board threads questioning who the heck I am are icing on the cake.

I'm thankful for the fact that Zack Greinke and Billy Butler did their bests to ensure that ritualistic mass suicides would not occur at Kauffman Stadium over the summer.

I'm thankful for the fact that certain college football coaches are actually familiar with the concepts of "halftime adjustments" and "improving during the season."

I'm thankful that the Chiefs choose to win one game they have absolutely no business winning each year. (See: Broncos, 2008; Steelers, 2009). Even the narrowest sliver of hope still counts as hope.

I'm thankful for the fact that I don't think I can dance. My attempts at Conan O'Brien's string dance belong nowhere near the watching eyes of others.

I'm thankful for the fact that "The Biggest Loser" has always been spoken for as the name of a television show... Just in case I ever get on TV.

I'm thankful for the fact that I'm not on TV. It's what is best for me and for the viewing public that is not fond of the level of boredom that could actually make one's brain attempt to escape one's head through the nostrils.

I'm thankful for the fact that my apartment walls are as thick as a cardstock piece of paper, rather than the standard 20# stock. The "dope rhymes" my neighbor "drops" would probably leave me continually "busting a move" with thinner walls.*

I'm thankful for the fact that my readers are willing to put up with completely dated and out of touch attempts to grasp slang. 

I'm thankful for the fact that someday, Brett Favre will actually retire... Someday.

I'm thankful for the fact that you, the reader, apparently made it through this whole list of items I'm thankful for. If you just skipped to the end, thinking there would be some sort of hilarious grand finale, I'm thankful for you, too. Odds are you're confused concerning what blog you're reading, since I focus mostly on in-depth studies of foreign wars, but the thought is appreciated.

This Week in Sports - Nov. 15-21

Zack Greinke Wins the AL Cy Young Award
The national media recognizes what most local folks already know: Zack Greinke was the best pitcher in the American League last season. Greinke made several hitters look like they were swinging pool noodles while at the plate this year, and for that he wins baseball's top pitching honor*. He's the first Royal to win the Cy Young since David Cone in the quasi-season (read: strike-shortened) of 1994. Greinke is also the first Cy Young winner to say that he had not been thinking about the award lately because he was busy playing World of Warcraft. How can someone (aside from opposing batters) not love this guy?

*The Cy Young narrowly edges out Royals Pitcher of the Year as the top award for a pitcher in baseball.

Astute readers might wonder why awards like the Cy Young are just now being presented when the baseball regular season finished 44 days ago. The answer to such a query lies in the fact that votes are not certified unless they are first sailed across the Atlantic and then mushed through the course for Alaska's Iditarod. Upon completion of such tasks, Snowball the sled dog will lick (if you're lucky) your ballot*.

*Ballot submission is completed by burying the ballot in the outfield at Wrigley Field, all while angry Cub fans curse about your mother, douse you with beer, and zing batteries at you in attempt to make you lose track of what you're doing.


Dwayne Bowe is Suspended for Using a Substance Banned by the NFL
What this means: The Chiefs will lose to the Steelers this Sunday by 31 instead of 24. Bowe is the Chiefs' best receiver, but such a title is akin to being called the Least Terrifying Raiders fan. They're all folks you wouldn't want to meet in a dark alley*. In the grand scheme of things, Bowe's suspension means very little for this team.

*Note: The Writings do not condone going into dark alleys at all. Nothing good ever comes from a dark alley. If you really need to venture into an alley, wait until daytime. The Writings: We're Here to Keep You From Getting Jumped by Thugs, Ninjas, or Mutated Rats.

I apologize. I'm supposed to be an optimistic fan, but the Chiefs of recent seasons seem be the kryptonite to my super-optimism. At times, I wonder if I'd trust the organization to draft my fantasy football team.


Dolphins Running Back Ronnie Brown is Out for the Rest of the Season
This news, dear readers, is devastating. You see, my fantasy football team - Get Off of Mike Cloud - is already on a losing streak that threatens to eliminate me from playoff contention. That streak continued last weekend thanks in part to Jaguars running back Maurice Jones-Drew making a selfless play and taking a knee to waste time off the clock when he could have scored a touchdown. His act helped his NFL team win, but it cost GOoMC six fantasy points... I lost by three. It seems Mr. Jones-Drew values his spot on the Jaguars' roster (and the checks they pay him) more than the spot on my roster (and the fact that I'm willing to pay him in shout-outs from The Writings... Go get'em, Mo!)

WARNING: FANTASY FOOTBALL ANALYSIS AHEAD
Brown's injury presents me with quite a predicament. He was my No. 2 running back. Now, my options to replace him are Buffalo's Fred Jackson (who has barely been worth a roster spot since starter Marshawn Lynch returned from suspension; however, there's talk that he could assume a greater role if the Bills choose to embrace the Wildcat offense), Indianapolis' Donald Brown (who was threatening to take the load of the carries from starter Joseph Addai, but then suffered an injury) or one of three players on the waiver wire: Atlanta's Jason Snelling (in for an injured Michael Turner), Washington's Ladell Betts (in for an injured Clinton Portis) or Seattle's Justin Forsett (in for an injured Julius Jones).

Best case scenario: Jackson becomes Buffalo's Ronnie Brown, and Donald Brown runs so well coming off his injury that the Colts have no choice but to give him carries. GOoMC ends its losing streak, zips through the playoffs, and leaves me in position to gloat about my championship once the season is over. Also, people don't pity me for putting this much thought into fantasy football.*

*If I ever need to write an essay on why I'm single, I might just copy and paste this section about fantasy football... They'll get the message.

Worst case scenario: My running backs continue to stand on the sidelines. My free agent pickup is injured. Donovan McNabb decides to leave the country. Maurice Jones-Drew thinks that he should start kneeling the ball every time he touches it. Roddy White is attacked by an actual falcon, which proceeds to bite 6 of his fingers off. The Steelers' defense goes on strike. GOoMC scores 14 more points the rest of the season and misses the playoffs; I suffer much taunting as a result.  I suffer much taunting for putting this much thought into fantasy football. My family buys me a CD titled "Your Neighbor's Greatest Hits" for Christmas.

The Raiders Bench Quarterback Jamarcus Russell
This week in "moves that should have been done five weeks ago."


To be continued...

Things I Don't Understand - A Place I Would Not Choose for Relaxation

As I have mentioned in this space previously, on occasion I enjoy taking a quick walk around the park. I find it can be a good way to clear one's head, to take in a nice day, or to encounter individuals fit for proper examination courtesy of The Writings. I haven't been to the park in awhile (the whole "exercise" thing could really tarnish my reputation as one who relishes torpor), but it seems the park is now trying to come find me; I just encountered a park bench... in a public restroom.

Upon seeing the bench in this location, my mind was immediately paralyzed with confusion. You see, my understanding is that park benches serve as:
- a nice place for people to sit and relax;
- a good spot to enjoy a visit with an old friend;
- an excellent location to observe one's surroundings and ponder the beauty of such creation;
- and an ideal setting for taking a loaf of bread/bag of seeds/cage of mice and feeding ducks/pigeons/red-tailed hawks as one pleases.

Alas, I've struggled in figuring out situations where any of the above scenarios would be enjoyable/feasible in a public restroom.

Relaxation? I can think of better spots. (Like hanging by one's toenails off a bridge.)

Visiting? If you're attempting to have a heart-to-heart with someone while flushing toilets provide the audible ambiance, odds are you won't be speaking with that person again.

Observation and pondering? Uhh, no. No.

Feeding winged creatures? If you encounter a public washroom that serves as home to a flock of anything, you have bigger problems than a park bench.

It's obvious that this park bench does not belong in this restroom. The question remains: how did it get there? Is it the result of a prank by a competing hotel? Did a slightly mentally unstable city employee get confused by a supervisor's instructions to install the bench "near your favorite water feature"? Did it simply materialize out of nothingness?

There's really only well way to find out... Unfortunately, that involves me getting off this bench and asking someone.

Things One Learns in Hays, America

- At least one parent in this world thought the name "Jeeroy" was a good idea.

- One is only allowed in a hotel hot tub at 6:45 p.m. if he converses in very loud Spanish.

- Daylight Savings Time does not apply in select hotel rooms.

- Hotels have free Wi-Fi... Free Wi-Fi that actually works is a different matter.

- 10:15 p.m. is not to late for the hotel maintenance guy to knock on your room door to make sure your keys work.

Shocking Stat of the Day

Through an unexplainable series of events, I currently find myself looking at the Internet Movie Database (www.imdb.com) listing for O.J. Simpson. From this page, you can access information on all movies and television programs that Mr. Simpson has ever appeared in (including an episode of Circus of the Stars!).

While it's certainly useful to know that O.J. appeared as himself in a 1977 episode of Celebrity Challenge of the Sexes, today's interesting stat relates to the website's STARmeter. As stated on imdb.com, the STARmeter reflects "what people are interested in, based not on small statistical samplings, but on the actual behavior of millions of IMDb users." In other words, if people check out your profile, your STARmeter rating will jump.

Now it's time to prepare to be shocked and appalled. If you're standing, sit down; if you're sitting, stand up; if you're drinking something, take a big swig so that your spit-take will be worthwhile. Yes, dear readers, this stat will leave you bewildered.

You see, O.J.'s popularity is down six-percent this week.

(Insert collective gasp from all readers of The Writings here.)

Yes, you read that correctly. Mr. Simpson's popularity is down six-percent.

This is horrifying.

How can people be so disinterested in O.J.'s acting career? Granted, his last acting role in a major motion picture was in Naked Gun 33 1/3: The Final Insult, which was released 15 years ago. And, granted, he's been involved in a couple moderately publicized legal snafus since that film's release, but does that really call for a decrease of interest in the man's filmography? The man was in Hambone and Hillie, after all: a film that's drawn a respectable 4.8/10 rating on imdb.com. 4.8! That's almost 5!

A six-percent drop in popularity... Crazy.

240 Words or Less

Upon sending an email citing the absurdity in bragging about college football team's narrow defeat of an unranked opponent, I received a response saying that my reply was long enough to be a book. The reply in question was 240 words long. It seems fairly obvious that the person who made such comments is not a regular read of The Writings. If he was, he'd realize that limiting myself to 240 words is no easy feat... The aforementioned comment also makes one wonder if the replier is much of a reader, as 240 words wouldn't make much of a book. I'm not sure that Tolkien, a master of miniscule details, could have described Tom Bombadil's doorstep in a mere 240 words.

Nonetheless, I decided imposing a 240-word limit might be interesting. After all, what if my readers (wheter real or imagined) sport attention spans similiar to that shared by the frustrated email reader? What if all these continually rambling posts have done nothing but turn people away from The Writings? What if my readers are much like my niece; they can concentrate on one task for only a couple minutes before they feel the need to go build a pyramid of dolls or see what damage they can do with their grandmothers' canes?

I'm willing to adapt. This Writing will not exceed the aforementioned 240-word limit. I'm interested to see what I can accomplish with such boundaries, and I'll start with-

Cloudy With a Chance of Seeds

When I went out to my car on Sunday morning, I discovered that the rear window and trunk were covered in sunflower seeds.

Covered.

When one discovers that a portion of their motor vehicle is pasted with seeds of Kansas' state flower, one question immediately springs to mind*: Why does my car look like it took a wrong turn through a Major League Baseball dugout?

*No, it's not, "What flavor are they?"

Why were these full seeds adorning my car? Did I unknowingly order a dumping of seeds at www.dumpseedsonyourcar.com? Have I made enemies with the folks at DAVID? Did I suffer the brunt of a scattered seedstorm? The answer eluded me.

Now that I've had a few days to think things over, I think I've figured out the answer.

Strange things just seem to happen to me.

What type of strange things? I'm glad you asked*.

*If your inner monologue did not ask this question, I apologize, as it's going to be answered anyway. If you would rather have something else occupy your mind, perhaps could sing the theme to The Facts of Life. I'll even get you started... "You take the good, you take the bad, you take them both and there you have..."

- Once, a girl I had never met before came to my apartment, opened my front door, walked inside and asked me if Lisa was around. Upon being informed that I had no clue who Lisa was and that I was the sole resident of that apartment and had been for three months, this stranger looked at me like I was crazy.

- After moving from that apartment, I had some trouble locating some mail that I figured may have been delivered to the wrong location as I was transitioning to a new apartment. I went back to my old place to see if the new resident had received any of my mail. The timid-looking female that answered the door said she hadn't seen anything... Oddly, this girl - despite the fact that she wore a colorful bandanna in her hair, a blouse, and a long skirt and spoke in a rather melodious tone - sounded like a man. As I apologized for taking up her time, I got a better look at this girl's face... This girl was a man. Yikes.

- A friend was once trying to encourage me to go introduce myself to an unknown female at a bar. I glanced in the direction of this female only to have an obscene gesture (commonly nicknamed for a winged, feathered animal) waiting for me. It was definitely intended for me, and I had definitely never met this girl before. Apparently my aura offends people. 

- After getting ready for work one morning, I went to the coffee pot to fill my mug. Oddly, my coffee had a rather transparent look to it. After much deliberation, I realized that I had not brewed crystal-clear coffee, but instead forgotten the grounds completely.

- As mentioned in this space not long ago, I recently received over 40 calls from a family member's cell phone during the wee hours of the morning. This was a result of his phone soaking up water like a ShamWow. Because I was sleep deprived, enjoy torturing myself, and have no common sense, I periodically answered the calls, thinking something might be wrong. Because I enjoy torturing myself, was sleep deprived, have no common sense, and I'm a nice guy, I did not simply call back out of fear that I might wake my niece.


If the above examples are not proof enough that book of my life has some odd chapters, rest assured that there are more. Unfortunately, I have to quit writing, as I'm feeling a bit hungry.

... I wonder where I could find some sort of sunflower-based snack...