“Now and then an innocent man is sent to the legislature.” – Abe
Martin
It’s a non-sequitur, okay?
It’s cute, timely, just something I ran across while looking through ten
million quotes about sleep, all of which began like, “In Abraham’s bosom…” I
want to talk about sleep, or, more to the point, the lack thereof. I like to
sleep. I’m a tactile soul and sleeping is a tactile thing. I don’t have to
sleep ’til 10. 8am on a Saturday is fine. Except it’s not 8, it’s 5, maybe
5:30am. Say what you will about early birds, it’s too damn early to eat a worm.
I have this imaginary conversation with an imaginary soul-type person sharing
my bed. “No, honey,” I tell my concerned, imaginary person. “Nothing’s wrong,
really. We’re fine. Never been happier. Uh-uh, nothing’s on my mind. No, my
conscience is not guilty! We just work together, for Chrissake! I just can’t
fucking sleep!” Extreme sleep deprivation prevents me from following a single
thought-thread, so here are some odds and ends.
I don’t wish to be a boxing apologist. It’s a sport I rarely follow anymore,
little different from professional wrestling. Still, the knee-jerk cries for
its abolition when a fighter is killed annoy me. A week doesn’t pass without a
race car driver getting horribly maimed or killed, but you never hear cries for
its abolition. It all comes down to politics: Car racing has a large
constituency, and boxing, due to its sordid history, does not… Blackie
Sherrod’s comment, “And then there was the mind reader who moved to Washington
and starved to death,” reminds me of the media. First – well, certainly far
from first, let’s say latest – they make an idiot like Dennis
Rodman a cult hero. Now, Cowboys coach Barry Switzer, criticized last year by –
guess who? – for being “too soft” has, by virtue of yelling at a few of his
players, become the second coming of Vince Lombardi. Let us repeat the media
mantra all together: “Ummmmm… If it’s a soundbite, it’s true. Ummmmm… If
it’s a soundbite, it’s true”… And now to my friends in the local media:
KVET’s Jeff Ward and Statesmen columnist Kirk Bohls are both incredulous
that Shea Morenz would hesitate a nanosecond before becoming a New York Yankee.
“Take the money and run,” as my friend Jeff says. Forget for a second Morenz
turned down more money as a high school senior to come to UT. Forget also
Morenz is a straight-A student. A kid who views college as something other than
a way to professional sports. Isn’t this greedy, cynical, take-the-money view
precisely the attitude turning off so many sports fans? Is getting his degree
really going to make him less valuable as a pro? Sure, he can get hurt; I might
come down with Ebola and La Zona Rosa might reopen. On other hand, with his
education, Shea Morenz could enter adult life with a more solid outlook on what
the world is about. On a corollary path, I’m flummoxed at how quickly the
entire local media turned on Morenz. It kinda makes me sick. One year ago, this
kid was proclaimed by all – no exaggeration – as the best quarterback in Texas
history. He gets hurt, has a few bad games, some new kid comes in and does well
and now he’s the best QB in Texas history and Morenz is lucky to be his
backup. And you wonder why today’s athletes refuse, more and more, to talk to
the idiot media… Spur coach Bob Hill didn’t lose the series with Houston but
he certainly did little to distinguish himself as a rocket (god, I’m clever)
scientist, either. Dennis Rodman’s an idiot. I’d hate to have him as a
teammate. I certainly wouldn’t want to coach him. Still, this is professional
basketball, and that’s the way it is. The Western Conference finals is not the
place to be teaching lessons to miscreant students. Each game, each quarter,
shit, every minute is precious in a format where the season aborts when
you lose four games. Rodman’s benching for lengthy parts of two games – both
Spur losses – because he was being his usual dipshit self is, given the
critical situation, absurd, high-school stuff. Dennis is a known commodity. If
the Spurs don’t like that, get rid of him after the season. This wasn’t the
place to be making Boy Scout points… The Houston Rockets were supposed to
lose in the first round. The Orlando Magic were supposed to be two years away.
Heavy favorites Utah, New York, Phoenix, Chicago, and San Antonio have sucked
heavily on the exhaust pipe. The most exciting, improbable NBA playoffs in
memory are, finally, almost over and here is Houston and Disney World playing
for the World Championship. I’m rooting for Orlando, not out of any spite
toward crying Rocket fans but because I’m an Eastern Conference kind of guy.
This unlikely match-up is uncommonly competitive and interesting. Both teams
look a lot alike. Dominating centers, a heavy reliance on three-point shooting,
and weak benches. Horace Grant – how could the spiteful Bulls let him get away?
– has been the difference in every Magic game in this long tournament. No team
has found an answer for him yet. Has he missed a shot? I’ll assure a Houston
title by predicting the Mice in six.
Write me at: coach36@aol.com
This article appears in June 9 • 1995 and June 9 • 1995 (Cover).