stupid commentators

yeah, so this is old news but...

last sunday during the first ten or so minutes of the texans' ass-raping by the raiders, the commentators were saying how they thought the texans would try to start off with the running game...then the texans did something the commentators called "creative"...

for those of you who dont know the texans have only one game plan in mind....play action pass...ALWAYS....so when the commentators called it "creative" i was like...are you fucking kidding??...of the first seven or so plays...i think five of them were, guess what...play action passes...wow...i mean...i never would have figured...i was so amazed it was like one of those "cough-sneeze-fart-burp" things that leaves you kinda "whoa, that was weird!"...

and if you've never had that experience...all i can say is this...the force must not be strong with you...you need more metachlorians...

cg

you're the best around...really??

last night texas tech utterly outplayed texas in a huge game in nearly every way...and that galls me to say it...but, you have to give credit to the red raiders...i screamed expletives at the screen every time colt mccoy threw a pass that a receiver dropped...the first half was flat out deplorable play by the longhorns...way too many penalties overall...and that terrible interception...not to mention that hair-pulling loss in the last the few seconds of the game...

anyhow, i usually enjoy keeping up with the heisman "race" simply because i find it utterly fascinating...but i always found it curious that when a team lost, it affected a player's chances for winning the heisman...it doesnt make a whole lot of sense since you are looking for the best player in college football, not the best player on the best college football team...

i found this little article that echoed some of my thoughts...now, why i do think that his examples were a bit flawed (graham harrell was very very good out there), he had a point...what i thought was so interesting a couple of years ago when troy smith and brady quinn were on the radar for the heisman, i recall several commentators making statements to the effect that troy smith would win the heisman, but that he would not be very successful in the pros...it's like saying,"dude, you are the best!...but, this is about the best you'll ever be"...lol...

oh, and i just have to remark on john elway...i know this is old news, but let's take a look at his thoughts on quarterbacks in the NFL..

"JaMarcus Russell's only chance at NFL success is to get out of Oakland. OK, maybe that's harsh. But we all know it's his best chance at success," Elway writes.

The fastest way to ruin a quarterback is to put him on a bad team, with a bad line, with no weapons, with no continuity in the coaching staff. That pretty much describes the current Raiders. The game has passed Al Davis by, and he's the only one who doesn't know it. Every time the Raiders get a good coach -- Mike Shanahan, Jon Gruden, Norv Turner, etc. -- who doesn't buy into Al's outdated program, he fires him.

"It's this kind of organizational instability that can ruin a quarterback, like the Texans ruined David Carr and the Browns ruined Tim Couch. A young quarterback, especially a No. 1 guy with the weight of a city's expectations on his shoulders, can wilt. A young quarterback needs a calm, steady influence on and off the field. The first three years for an NFL quarterback are rocky no matter what. He needs a coach to teach him the game of football and a kind of father figure to nurture him and get him through the tough times off the field.

"Too bad JaMarcus didn't have the leverage I had in 1983; then he could've avoided the Raiders all together. ...

"I feel for JaMarcus. Physically, he has it all. He's an unbelievable talent -- strong arm, tall, big. In the right situation, he could have a great NFL career. In Oakland, he has almost no chance."

wow...i have no idea how to respond to that...this is like vince young's momma saying that he cant handle the pressure because people arent nice and why cant they just be nice to him...her baby just needs some love and cuddles so that he can play well!...

...

this is like archie manning telling everyone to not tackle his son...um....again...really??...

first of all...the challenges in pro football are no secret...if you want to raise your hand and say "pick me! pick me!" in the draft, then you better have a fucking clue, son, about what the hell goes on in the field...i have no sympathy and no pity...talent will get you nowhere real fast if you dont have the drive and desire to practice and do what it takes...

every person is in charge of their own performance...if you want to be better, then you better find the next train to better training not superstar status...

the ridiculous assumption elway makes that these players need a "daddy" to hold their hand and show them really cool power points to make them better players makes no sense...it is their job to make themselves strong and capable...unless the contract states "the franchise agrees to hold your dick every time you piss and wipe your ass after every shit you take" it is flat out stupid to assume that they will be there to make you better...they are there to make money...i know...shocker...

i will say this, however, a poorly managed franchise/team will not lead to successful players...that is fact...but again...no one is forcing these kids to sign contracts...coaches are like teachers...you have some that inspire and others that drive you to madness...so, basically if you failed chemistry it's because of a mean, terrible teacher...or like saying "i failed at the pass rush because i had a mean coach that didnt talk to me and tell me what to do"...how many of these guys actually ask how to be better?...i wonder...

this all comes from what really drives pro football...money...but that is another rant altogether...

ah, where are the good old days when they would just hide a prospect in a hotel room so that other teams couldnt sign him?....

cg (feeling terribly cranky because both texas and texans lost this weekend...oh, the tragedy!)

EDIT: in more uplifting news, the giants are totally ass-raping the cowgirls...i love the giants...um...only when the play the 'girls, i mean...

doomed franchise?

i sit here shaking my head at the television...the texans scraped together a two point lead...with six minutes left, you just KNOW they are going to blow it...i remember when sundays used to be such a wonderful time...and now...i just close my eyes and hope that when i open them the texans have decided to actually play consistently...they cant just be consistently bad or good...they have to play well...then blow it...they play well and win or play badly and lose or play badly and win...year in and year out...which is sad given some of the excellent players we have...and then...the not-so-excellent players...*sighs*...

cg

know your ABCs

when working with women, let us refresh our brains with a little course on Women In The Work Place...everyone ready??

A - antagonistic

women in the work place are notorious for their antagonism towards other females...in a striking study done by myself at my own work place, i was amazed at how the women lash out in subtle or not-so-subtle ways...whether they are threatened by another's performance or confidence or even if they are outraged that someone is getting away with something - women immediately pounce on the attack...the phrase "preemptive strike" originates here...dont wait until someone actually does something that directly influences you, oh no...be sure to smack that bitch down before she even has a clue what's coming...that way she knows the hierarchy of bitches...

B - bitch

all women in the work place are bitches...oh dont even try to say "but i know plenty of women who are good, hard-working blah blah blah" or "i am the nice one at work and i never get involved in that stuff"...*coughs* bullshit *coughs*....all women are bitches...some more so than others...but there are three main kinds (i like things to happen in threes...it is a nice number):

novice - she is the one that gets easily overwhelmed and, at times, will fall right into the melee without knowing what happened...she wants to stay focused at work but her ears pick up all the little bits of garbage here and there...she in no way could ever contend with the queen B and the queen B is hardly aware of her existence...but beware...sometimes the queen has a sharp eye and will attempt to bring the novice to her fold...

princess - she has it all...or so she thinks...she loves to talk...to the point that you almost wonder...who is she trying to convince?...her love life is pretty good and she will admit to having only the best things...she is very strong and sometimes people do not see her for what she is because of her happy smile and pleasant attitude...but...be very careful with this one...she is even more dangerous than the queen B because of she uses her charm to manipulate others...you are not to trust this little princess because she knows no loyalty but to herself...she will often place herself as a victim and can hide her identity with employers....when caught in a tangle with a queen B, however, she will bark and bite in self-defense...but in truth, she fears the queen B for her "intangibles"...she may aspire to queen status, but she has stepped on so many others that her reign will be precarious at best...

queen - she came forth from her mother's vagina hurling orders and making demands...she isnt necessarily unkind, but she knows what she wants...she has little time for the princess and the novice, but may take the time to rescue a novice if she feels the novice has "queen" potential...her morals are her own and are immovable...do not try to court her, princess, for you will get a very nasty sting...she watches the princess parade about and will, at times, remove her little tiara...but, generally, she has her own agenda...like all queens, some are honorable monarchs whilst others are power-hungry women intent on stepping on as many as it takes to get to the very top...however, all queens are susceptible to a coux...a well-planned take-over could have a queen out on her arse while the princess takes the crown...

C - control

what it all boils down to is - control...women enjoy feeling a certain amount of power and control at work...and when that control is threatened, then all sorts of lovely little problems form...what women fail to understand is this...you cannot control others...you can only control yourself...or maybe they understand that too well...

so, in conclusion...women are antagonistic bitches when they feel out of control or when feel they have no control...and yes, i am having bitch issues at work...the sad part is, they are dealing with a Queen who has little time for their display of foot-stamping and pathetic imitation of a woman wronged...shoo fly...don't bother me...

cg

to the victors go the spoils

and in a fantastic display of college football...UT beat OU....*dances to "you're the best around" from the karate kid*....tsk tsk tsk...now if only the texans could get their shit together instead of blowing a decent lead and handing the fucking game over to the opposing team...

cg

speechless wonder

being a very verbal person, it amazes me how often i am left speechless...i think it can be attributed to the fact that i mentally orchestrate conversations before and during a conversation...i stray from topics i am either uncomfortable with or would prefer not to discuss for whatever reasons...i retain a vagueness that can put people off...as direct as i am in many things, i will take the curvy road to ambiguity any chance i can...it keeps others at a distance and myself in control...

what is the purpose of this?...there is the distinct allure of playing a game with myself...it is never about the other person (and this happens with friends, family, and co-workers)...it is about my own limitations and desires to challenge my thought processes...i know that for many of you, you will instantly jump on the word "game" and think that my sole purpose is to manipulate others...and that is true, it happens as a side-effect...much like medication still in the beta form where the list of side-effects is long and often posing much danger to the taker...however, that is not the focus...the focus is stimulating my brain in so many ways that i become dizzy with the idea of taking that circuitous route to schizophrenic conversation...

but through all my efforts to become the multi-conversationalist within a single conversation, there are many moments that the driver becomes the passenger as the other person untangles my knot of words with a single pull of the smallest thread...and i am left there....speechless....wondering how in the hell did they manage to do that??

and it is always the ones that watch me twist and turn myself with mild interest, waiting until i am nearly finished and nearly satisfied with my work to inform me that i have spun a weave that has nothing to do with them and they neatly step aside leaving me with an armful of useless yarn...

cg

the melody within

as i compose this post...as my fingers tap quietly against the keys...i hear a melody inside my head...again i picked up my father's guitar...such a simple little melody...i am learning by touch how to make the sounds...first one finger on the lowest note, then the others in a strum...only one string held down...alternates after four beats...i have an urge to sing...i havent sung in a very very long time...so very long...

i didnt want to put it down...but my fingers hurt so much that i had no choice...last week the tips were a bit bruised for a couple of days...the pain in my hands that is normally there did not help matters...but i ignore it...

do you ever just want to be somewhere so badly...and you try and try and try....but to no avail?...either the time isnt right or you just arent as ready for something as you thought you could be...or perhaps you will never be ready...but you dont stop...you just keep trying...because you want it so bad...so bad that it makes your heart ache...and your chest fills with something heavy...

there are so many things i want to do...i get so scared sometimes that i will never be able to do them all...that i will get lost...i lost the music for so long...not the songs that would sing in my head...but the music that sings in my heart...in my soul...that fills me more than any meal ever could...i feel it sometimes...like today...lurking...slippery through my hands...and i know that if i try to hold onto to it...it will slip away...

of all the guitars my father had left (he had sold many of them over the years) the last four that remained...three of them were bass guitars...i got the acoustic/electric...and it feels right...the melody isnt right...and it wont be great...but it doesnt have to be...sometimes the most amazing things are just that...simple...

funny how the first word out of my mouth while i was playing was "you"...and only one person came to mind...i wonder if my father could hear me trying to touch the melody with my heart...

cg

dream machine

"come right up!"

the man in the cherry-colored suit that was ill-fitting on his full frame clapped two large hands together, his face creased and lined from years of smiles and laughter...the two bushy eyebrows wiggled over brown eyes so dark they appeared almost black...bits of spittle sprayed from his mouth as he called out to the few passers-by that lingered in the rain...the years had not been kind to the cherry suit that surely had once been made from the finest cloth...where cloth-covered buttons had lined along the center of the suit were now replaced by pale bone-colored circles of some unknown material...the white silk shirt was now darkened to a pale yellow and covred with many stains...yet, his smile remained unchanged after all his years with the carnival...his was a simple life and a pleasant one...he welcomed the everyday monotony for it was a welcome prediction in an otherwise topsy-turvy career...the children were always children...every town had them...they were always amazed by his Dream Machine...the would crowd aroun him...they never saw the holes in his shoes or the frayed ends of his jacket...they saw the world that he would create for them through his words...his was truly a remarkable life...

i remember as a child listening to him call out to us to see his Dream Machine...my neck ached as i peered up at him through the thick plastic lenses of my brand new baby pink glasses...the Dream Machine would make you feel like you were actually walking in a dream...it could read your thoughts and offer you the most amazing dream in the world...i took the pile of change that i had saved up and stuffed in my faded denim pockets...

the colored metal pieces clicked against one another as i counted out the fare into his outstretched hands...

i stepped into the dark box that was the opening, the door had long ago been ripped off its hinges...at first i saw nothing, heard nothing, felt nothing...a swirl of lights blinded me...a burst of cold air nearly swept me off my feet...the floor moved beneath my feet and i fell forward and sideways...i retched, the sounds of my spewing splattering on the floor and my feet...

when the world finally stopped moving i was quiet and calm...i had no expectations...what dreams would this amazing machine show me?...

but all that happened was a dim overhead light flashing above my head lighting up the way to a door marked EXIT...

as i walked home with my puke-scented sneakers i thought about my experience in the Dream Machine...perhaps it had worked...and my walk home and life ever after would be the dream...

or perhaps it was just an old man with a rotating floor and flashing lights...

sometimes when i go to sleep i think about that Dream Machine...i close my eyes and let myself fall into the dream...the machine that keeps up the hope and belief of a different life...even now i can feel my eyelids flutter as my lashes rest against one another...slipping away into the dark abyss..

cg

beatles and letters

i am sitting here on my floor, listening to your old beatles albums (you certainly did have an amazing collection - even though it looks like half of them are mysteriously "gone") and reading the letters you sent her...you loved her so very much...so very very much...

ironic that there was a letter in the box dated exactly thirty six years ago today...you were so young and hopeful...you believed so much in that love...what happens to love when time goes by?...does it, in fact, wither away and die?...does it break under the pressures of reality?...or did it never really exist at all....simply an escape from an otherwise dreary world of war and small town stagnancy...

i smelled your shirts today...they still smell like you...but one day i know that smell will be gone...i took some of your cologne and i put it on your shirt so i could smell you...perhaps you are the reason why i love a good, strong manly smell!...

i miss you talking in circles and never making sense...i miss you making me crazy with our late night talks when you would come home from work late at night...i miss how you used to rub my head at night while i was sleeping after you came home from work...

you used to tell me how proud you were of me...how much you loved my strength...how much you respected my determination...

i know tomorrow i will be happy and fine...life goes on...but for tonight...as i listen to the beatles and read your letters...i am going to cry....because i can...

cg

mental exercises

the brain, like any other part of the human body which sits unused or unnoticed, tends to grow comfortable and enjoys that warm body feeling...like that person you work with who never really seems to accomplish anything of significance and yet never appears in danger of losing his/her job but fills some kind of void at work that would otherwise be filled with an even bigger nuisance so you just tolerate it while thinking "what an idiot!"...

anyhow...with a little stimulation the brain either revolts "quick! dont listen! look at the pretty flowers....aww...look at those two people kissing...you know you want to fuck him/her"...the brain is a sneaky thing...but, if your brain doesnt revolt, it usually plays possum..."if i sit here vewwy, vewwy, quietwy, they wont know i am awound"...that is when you have those brain farts and, while you know you have a functional brain, it slips through your fingers like empty capsules...and pretty soon you are in that zone of pointless thoughts...

the only way i have figured out how to fight back is a virtual onslaught of constant information...it thinks it is sooo smart...but when i throw a million things into my noggin it cant cope...it cant pretend and hide or stamp its feet down and say "no, i wont!"...it has no choice but to do the things i command it to do...

of course, that is when it may choose to do them not so well...but hey, i got it to stop whining and start working, didnt i?

cg

rah, rah! go, team, go!

teamwork is perhaps one of the most misleading words in the workplace...it implies the idea that everyone is working together toward a common goal...the reality of teamwork is that we do not expect them to have common goals...we just want them to play nicely and use nice words with each other...

we want them to be happy even when they arent happy because if you have a frown then that automatically means you arent a member of the team...

we want them to say "hi!" and "how are you?!?" to every person they say because if not it means they do not like someone and that means you arent a member of the team....

we want them to share all their thoughts and ideas and not be competitive because then that means you only care about yourself and you arent a member of the team...

we want them to be supportive and sympathetic because if you dont you arent a member of the team...

and if you arent a member of the team then you will be told to find another team to play on...

so, um, could someone tell me where that team is so that i can send them a few players??

cg

the readiness of chivalry

opening the door for a woman used to be something so commonplace...now it has become something cautious and hesitant...something that does not reflect a proper upbringing...women, in their fierce drive for indepence have seen fit to squelch this from a man's repertoire of skills...the two-year-old's mantra of "i can do it!" comes to mind....


in their joy to fly they have unknowingly stripped bits and pieces from the wings of man...feminists around the world, strike me now!...seriously, over the course of the last 100 years has the shape of man shifted and turned...the trappings of man are not what they once were...the ocean of women has thrashed upon the beaches of men whereupon they are left gasping for air wondering "what the hell did i do wrong?"


women become insulted when men open doors for them...the road to equality has been paved over the path to manhood...perhaps i am being a bit dramatic...with reason, though...while women have gained tremendous ground, men have become less...well, "manly" and become more, well..."womanly"....they do everything to their bodies that women do...there is very little that separates the men from the women anymore these days...

the readiness of chivalry, it seems, has succumbed to the whim of the woman...

cg