Boo to the Hoos!

Tonight I almost did two things I never do.

The first was I nearly watched a college basketball game.  I can't tell you the last time I actually sat down to watch a college basketball game -- it may have been when Michigan's fab four lost to UNC in the NCAA men's final in 1993 (the one where Chris Webber called a time out he didn't have).

The second was that I was prepared to root for UVA.  [Continues on in my best Jerry Seinfeld Voice] UVA!  Me!  A Virginia Tech graduate!  Rooting for UVA!  I even wore the new Virginia Tech T-shirt I got for Christmas today (though it's been so cold it's been concealed under a fleece all day).  I can't root for UVA!  It's UVA!

I don't know why.  I do value excellence, the unbeaten run is (or, rather, was) impressive, and it has been covered in the local news with a laconic sort of excitement, and while it wasn't infections maybe it was just nice to think about something sports wise besides Tom Brady's deflated balls or Chelsea's uninspiring draw today against Manchester City.

Furthermore, it seemed safe.  Virginia Tech and UVA are so far apart this year in the ACC Standings, it just didn't seem like I'd be harming anything if I rooted for UVA this one time.  And I don't really care much about Duke either way.  What harm could it do?

Well, take heart Hokie fans.  It turns out I did neither.

I was only able to watch the first few minutes of the game.  Soon it was 8:00 and my wife starting watching Torchwood on Netflix, desperately trying to finish the series before it gets dropped tomorrow at 12AM.  Sure, she could watch it on her computer, but she prefers to watch it on TV (which, unlike everybody else in this country, we only have one of).  So I played the martyr and sacrificed myself in the name of domestic tranquility, because Torchwood is important to my wife and college basketball isn't really that important me.

That's what marriage is all about.  I know, I read it on the back of a matchbox.

I did, however, see the pregame festivities.  After the Duke players were introduced in a rather leisurly fashion the arena went dark and the music started playing, and out on the middle of the floor there was this fucking guy in a Cavalier's costume strutting around like Brian Johnson of ACDC.

Now, I feel that Lord Grantham and I, were he to invite me to dinner at Downton Abbey, would probably not agree on many things.  But one thing we would agree on, I am sure, is that pre-game pomp is unnecessary. The two teams should come out of the tunnel, shake hands, have the coin toss, and get on with the game.

The only pregame ritual worth seeing is when the Hokies come into Lane Stadium, and they start playing "Enter Sandman", and everybody starts jumping up and down in unison, and the sophomore engineering students are trying to get everyone to stop because they just learned about resonance in physics class and are worried that the motion of the students could result in a Tacoma Narrows Bridge event - in other words, an engineering disaster of incredible proportions.

But this little Diego Montoya, dancing to some kind of jams being pumped out to get the UVA fans up for a game they couldn't possibly be more up for?  Stupid.

Nice Goatee

It's like that gobbler sound Virginia Tech plays at football games on third downs.  "Gobble Gobble Gobble" holy crap motherfuckers its third down and the clarion call of the Turkey is calling us to defensive glory.  Let us cheer our asses off for the team!  Come on.  It's dumb, you can hear it on TV, and we look stupid.

So, long story short, the pregame ritual reset my spiritual compass and I found myself hating UVA once again with a cool passion.  Not the school or the people who go there (I actually have some good friends from high school who went there), but just the basketball team.  I wanted to see Duke put them to the sword.  And while I didn't actually see it (Torchwood marathon, remember?) and while Duke didn't exactly put them to the sword they at least punctured the hopes of hoos everywhere that their beloved basketball team would run the table.

And so, I am happy.  Not the good kind of happy, it's the happy that you need to go and tell your therapist about, because it is no good to be hateful and to take joy in other's misfortunes.  But happy is happy, and I will take what I can get.

Marickovich Zips 1, Downton Abbey 2.

It's been a rough start to the series.

I speak of course of the fact that I find myself down to Downton Abbey 2 games to 1.  After a surprise victory in the first match, where I impressed everyone by staying awake for the entire 2 hour opening episode, I have fallen asleep in the following two matches, setting up a very important tie tonight with episode number 4.

Game three was a particular embarrassment.  If I am going to fall asleep I usually put up a good fight, scrapping for every moment, keeping those eyelids propped open to the last.  But during last weeks episode I realized in the first five minutes that victory was impossible, and I decided to stretch out as best I could in my favorite blue chaucer wing chair and give in to the sleep that my body so desperately craved, despite the possibility of scandal coming once again to Downton.

On the other hand perhaps I should be forgiven, as it seems scandal lurks around every corner in every episode, upstairs and down, beneath the eaves of Lord Grantham's humble abode.  Why is this such a great show?  Is it really all about Maggie Smith?

Currently the odds makers in Vegas are giving me a 20% chance of gaining the 3 victories I need out of the remaining 5 fixtures to force a tie break at 4-4 (Season 5 having 8 episodes), to be settled if necessary at Christmastime during the annual Downton Christmas special.

And the odds of winning the whole shabang?  Psh.  Forget about it.  I'm already praying for a draw for the hopes to maybe win in a more favorable time of year.

I'm getting ahead of myself, of course.  Need to take it one game at a time.  I am a little concerned, as the larger than normal lunch that I paired with a fine bohemian beer is starting to catch up with me as the afternoon waxes into a chilly evening - with about 3.5 hours to game time I feel like I could do with a nap. But napping is against the 1894 Vauxhall Spectators Association Rules, and so I will have to make do with a cup of strong coffee.

Wish me luck!  Just thinking about the soothing drawl of the Edwardian upper class is enough to....to....

Zzzzzz.    Zzzzzz.

It's a great show.  It really, really is.

Guess Who is not Watching the State of the Union this Year?

This guy.

When I was a lad the State of the Union was sacred.  When I was a lad my mom would watch George H.W. Bush's SOUs, turning over every word for veiled threats to Headstart.  When I was a little older watching Bill Clinton's SOUs endowed me with a self gratifying veneer of sophomoric sophistication.  Older still, and you would find me glued to the TV while Bush the younger demarcated the axis of evil and made the case for a number of military misadventures.

And now with President Obama?  Meh.

If the Obama presidency proves anything, it is the limit of high falootin' oratory.  There is no doubt that Obama can turn a phrase and inspire the nation (at least when he wants to run for office), but Obama's State of the Unions have become little more than a long list of things that he would like to do that Congress ain't gonna do.

Add that to the fact that I already know what that list of things is, because the Obama administration has already told us (2 years of Community College for free; a bit of welcome wealth distribution), and there is really no need to watch.  The only fun in watching is see who in the crowd is standing up or sitting down as the speech is read, but that is only interesting for a few minutes.

So no thanks.  I'll read about it tomorrow in the papers (delivered wirelessly to the device of my choice, of course) and learn all I need to know in about 10 minutes.  If there are any jaw dropping errors or gasp inducing gaffes I'll be able to watch them on CNN or You Tube or whatever.  There are much better ways to spend my time then to watch a speech that is a symbol of our anarchic traditions which, while venerable, probably don't serve us particularly well.

How am I going to use the hour?  I could learn a new language with Rosetta Stone.  I could keep picking away at some George Eliot.  I could go out and get some exercise.  I could go shopping to strengthen the American economy.  I could go out and sabotage the prophylactic factory to make sure that America's population stays robust. I could go out with my flint lock and drill on the village green to make sure that the Queen of England doesn't get all colonial on everybody's asses.

But I think I will watch re-runs of the Simpsons.

Do I agree with what I am guessing Obama is going to talk about?  I suppose so.  If I had my way we would have fewer people go to college, deal with degree inflation, and make sure that public schools can equip people to have good jobs.  But that probably won't happen.  So I grudgingly accept that if the government could make an investment in its citizens by helping with community colleges.  I could be persuaded otherwise though, I think.

Taxes?  I would naturally be in favor of a modest tax increase on the wealthiest Americans, especially because some of that money would probably be coming my way in the form of higher child tax deductions.  Is it better for the nation?  I'm inclined to think so but I know that there are cogent arguments for why it isn't.  Is it better for me?  Hells yeah. And that is why I support it.

Anytime the government wants to give me money (or rather take less of the money I have already earned), I will take it.  Especially if that money once belonged to Bill O'Reily or Glenn Beck.

Quest Fail due to Over Consumption of Sport!

So I didn't make it.  10 posts in 10 days turned out to be a bridge too far.  By the time I had the chance to write last night (i.e. the children were all mercifully, mercifully asleep) it was well past ten in the evening on New Year's Day.  I had been feasting on sports all day, and was groggy from ingesting too much football of all varieties.  I thought to myself, as I lay on the floor trying to squeeze in yet another game, that I should get up, get a cup of coffee, and complete the quest of 10 blog posts in 10 days.

But then I passed out on the floor, a victim of a football fueled bacchanalia.

There is such a thing, of course, as too much, even with sports.  I watched the equivalent of three soccer matches yesterday (one of which was actually EPL Breakaway on NBC Sport, which I enjoyed -- sort of like NFL Redzone for soccer covering 8 different matches at the same time -- another was Chelsea's 5-3 defeat to Tottenham, which I did not enjoy at all), and then on top of that tried to watch both college football playoff games.

I did try to cheat a little on the Oregon v. FSU game.  I recorded it on the DVR and started watching it about an hour and half after the kickoff.  Usually when I watch a football game I fast-forward just until I see the two teams line up for the snap, and then press play.  This cuts out the commercials, the time outs, the play reviews, the huddles, the time it takes for the two teams to heave themselves off the ground and get ready to smash into each other again.

But this hasn't worked as well this year, and it didn't work last night very well at all.  The game is just moving so fast.  Oregon sometimes only had 10 - 14 seconds last night between plays.  That's too many buttons to press too often which of course can lead to remote fatigue and possible carpel tunnel sydrome, so in the interest of viewer safety I have to just sit back and watch Oregon play.  I have yet to find an answer for the no-huddle offense.

Florida State?  It's easy to say they sucked, but if they hadn't made so many turnovers the game may have been different.  In the first half they looked like they were hanging in allright, didn't seem afraid of Oregon and were playing with them.  But don't mistake me for a Florida State apologist; I thoroughly enjoyed watching them get stomped.

I caught up with the end of the game just in time to start watching the next.  But it too proved a bridge too far.  I fell asleep when Ohio State were losing; when I woke up and staggered off to bed they were wining but I left the issue in doubt until the morning.  I am no fan of Ohio State, but I don't like Alabama either, so I guess I am...what?  Conflicticated.  Tired.  Ready to get back to the land of the living.

It's been a long vacation, my friends.  I'm not looking forward to getting back to work per se, but its time for life to assume its natural rhythm.  Though nearly everything around me is designed to entertain me I find long stretches of the day where I am just bored bored bored.  My 6 year old desperately needs to go back to school, for her sanity as well as ours.

That's all for now.  Be back in a few days, when I have something hopefully (though not likely) more interesting to say.