Fascinating article. Oddly enough, the registration feature on the website the article references is down right now. Oh, how will I ever know where I stand without the machine telling me?
Just saw this item in a sports business trade newsletter: "Golf Digest has released its ranking of the Top 15 golfing presidents with President-elect Barack Obama occupying the 8 th spot, between Bill Clinton and Ronald Reagan. The top-five golfing presidents, as determined by their handicap index, were John Kennedy, Dwight Eisenhower, Gerald Ford, Franklin Roosevelt and George H.W. Bush (Golf Digest)." That's a terrible joke to make about FDR. Golf Digest, shame on you.
The Stanley Cup playoffs continue to surprise me. Not in a good way either. I expected the final a long and entertaining series full of highly skilled, exciting play. Instead it has been largely a snoozefest with Detroit embracing a boring defense-first system that is aided and abetted by referees who appear to have been instructed by the league to call it like it’s 1999. On top of that, we have the sad ballad of Evgeni Malkin. Poor Evgeni is tired. It’s so hard to be a professional hockey player. Listen to his tale of woe from between games one and two in the Pittsburgh Tribune-Review: "I'm just tired," Malkin said. "Practice is long. The season is long. I feel bad." Awww...poor guy. Imagine how he’d feel if the Pens had played more than two games over the minimum you can play in the first 3 rounds and make the final. In just a few days Malkin has gone from being the guy that some overzealous writers called “this generation’s Messier to Crosby’s Gretzky...
It is late afternoon on Long Beach Island and a cargo ship is sliding south out on the Atlantic. The awsome Glen Jones is on 105.7 FM doing one of his day jobs, the Saturday afternoon shift. It's a very different listening experience from his WFMU Sunday afternoon show but an illuminating one nonetheless. I don't know how much creative control he has on his commercial radio shows though there are noticeable differences from the usual classic rock jock like unusual song selections from the typical roster of artists ("Working Man" from Rush instead of the dead horse that is "Tom Sawyer" or "The Immigrant Song" from Led Zeppelin instead of the dreaded you know what with the bustles in the hedgerows and whatnot) and interesting footnotes when one of the hoary old warhorses is on the playlist (he notes that "Carry On" by Kansas was on the soundtrack to a little-regarded 1975 movie called Heroes that starred Henry Winkler and Harrison...
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And how do I damage my prefrontal cortex so I can get rid of this nagging harrumph?