Surrealism

Ha, ha. It makes me laugh, the excitement that surges through my veins as Sunday approaches. The adrenalin boils and I'm gripping all the slips of paper from the multiple pools I've entered despite swearing I wouldn't participate at all this season. This week feels a little less hard than attempting to make last week's picks. But nothing is written in stone and each week I'm beginning to see more and more parallels between golf and football. Ultimately, being a Colts fan, it's Manning's artistry that I admire and that makes me nervous. It always has,even when I watched him play college ball. I know he's great, accomplished, talented, surgical, studies, studies, studies like I know Picasso is all those things and Manning like Picasso approaches the canvas makes the first brush stroke then completely deviates from convention and as beautiful as the outcome is, the execution makes me nervous. No huddle, the clock ticking down, down, down. However, I believe the Colts against the Broncos in Indy should be no contest. So my money's on the artist and his multiple weapons to completely deconstruct Denver.

Kids get away with murder

I just finished reading a review of my husband's new book Black Rabbit and other stories. Reviews are reviews and as writers we take the good with the bad - as writers we have to, on every level. But there's a specific aspect of this review that rankles me. The stories in Black Rabbit at times depict a reality that many a reviewer may not relate to as they tap away on their laptops in the comfort of their cushy homes, after eating a meal, drinking a cool glass of healthy milk. In our society there are certain members of it who like to deny that shit like what graces the pages of Sal's book doesn't happen or that it happens and the perpetrators learn from their mistakes or are punished for them or somehow without support systems, healthy families, financial stability turn over a new leaf and become socially acceptable human beings - unfortunately some people's lives aren't like that and kids do get away with murder. The system is set up that way. Certain writers are effected by what goes on around them more than to them. For many, expressing this effect on the page is a way to exercise the demons and injustices of life, of the unfathomable events that are happening all around us and although fictional the honesty, the truth of the matter, is what prevails. Imagine if Jerzy Kosinsky or Isaac Bable wrote idealistic versions of The Painted Bird or The Red Cavalry - imagine if we all wrote what people wanted to hear, imagine if the world became fully devoid of empathy, and honesty, and ultimately imagination because after all what is a story? Kids, people, get away with murder and unfortunately so do reviewers.

Hey Ladies!

On my flight back to New York yesterday, the Italian Women's soccer team were on the same plane. I would have assumed that they were on their way to China, via JFK, except that Italy didn't qualify for the 2007 FIFA Women's World Cup in China. Had I not gathered from the conversation the flight attendant attempted to have with them that they spoke little to no English I would have asked them a slew of questions. Of course my immediate reaction when I saw the team dressed in blue T-shirts and shorts board the plane was a superstitious one, OH, My God, I'm flying with a soccer team. The team might also be superstitious because compared to the amount of them that were checking in, only half were on my flight. However, the flight was perfect and superstitions are, well, just that. But it did get me thinking about the upcoming Women's World Cup. I've become familiar with many of the US and Canadian national team's players over the past few years and for the most part the women's national teams from those two countries have stronger sides than the men's. It's in the statistics. The US have weapons in their forwards Kristine Lilly, Natasha Kai and Abby Wambach and break out of the gate on Sept 11 against Korea DPR, who I have no doubt will be packed with their own ammunition. Canada's side is full of players who already play for MLS clubs and USL sides such as the Vancouver Whitecaps, New Jersey Wildcats, Toronto Lynx and Ottawa Fury, they include striker Christine Sinclair, defender Melanie Booth and forward Rhian Wilkinson, to name a few. They kick off on Sept 12th against Norway. In my gut, I foresee Canada and the US in the finals, be it quarter, semi's or the big 'F'. It all starts on September 10th. Should be high calibre play, another great event to fill up the old sports calendars with.

The Great Dane

is what Manchester City's Kasper Schmeichel's dad Peter Schmeichel was affectionately known as. That and probably Manchester United's greatest goal keeper. It looks like that greatness runs in the family because Man City's young goalie was the star of the show today against the Gunners. Man City didn't get any balls into Arsenals net but Schmeichel prevented a hell of a lot of goals against Man City's. Arsenal had hundreds of chances to score but just couldn't get the ball past the rugged Danish goalie. The play of the game though was when Arsenal were awarded a penalty kick, hmm, funny how they always manage things like that, Fabregas looked more than confident when he hammered the ball and certainly joined the rest of his team in looking stunned when Schmeichel easily saved it. Stellar. Fabregast got his revenge in the 80th minute and walloped the first goal against Man City since the beginning of the season past the disappointed Schmeichel. One out of say ten, sure isn't bad. Not to be outdone, in the dying minutes of the game Schmeichel joined his team in the Gunner's penalty box and almost headed a corner kick into their opponents net. Then ran back to the other end of the pitch to pick up his post. That's some well-rounded player. They lost 1-nil to Arsenal but under the leadership of the infamous Sven-Goran Eriksson and with the 'Other Great Dane' in net, Manchester City's future look's quite bright.

Speaking of bright futures, oh, guess who is at the top of the standings now - here's a hint - Chelsea!! Hurrah!

To Bet or Not To Bet...

That is the question.

With the NFL season just around the corner, I'm sitting on the fence - Do I rejoin the football pool, play Proline, both, one or the other, neither? Last year was the first year I joined a pool. I was excited, full of hope. Then found myself on the edge of the couch, fingernails in mouth, desperate to cover the spreads - to win the weekly pool. All in all I discovered it took the pure joy out of watching the games. Week after week, I stressed over the spreads, studied US Today's Friday NFL pages, the weeks I went the other route and simply went with my gut, still I came up short. One week I tied with some guy and we split the winnings. It was not satisfying. I joined a pool to alleviate my previous year's obsession with Proline. Thinking that it would still satisfy a need to compete and be able to really get involved in the season more so than just being a passive yet passionate observer. Proline just about killed me. I'm no stranger to obssessive behavior - it's the highs and lows that feed my craft. However what I discovered about Proline was that the thrill was never realized, no matter how knowledgable I became and I rarely enjoyed the weekend games because I was too concerned with my picks, never letting the little slips of paper out of my sweaty, trembling hands. One Sunday I had to attend a christening. I didn't want to go. Shoved past the burly guys in the Seven-Eleven to grab my pencil and spreads sheet, ignoring their scrutinizing stares and attempts to peek at what I was scribbling down. I arrived late to the christening and during the reception that followed I kept leaving and coming back a little more agitated than the previous time I disappeared. A concerned relative approached with a glass of wine and asked if I was okay. I nodded, grabbed the wine. She leaned close to me and asked if I had taken up smoking. Smoking, I said, God know. And I asked her why. She stepped away from me. Well, you keep on leaving, she said, anxiously, like a smoker. Like a smoker, she said, or worse. Worse, I thought. Downed my wine, then choked, choked because it hit me and the laughter rose up from my gut before I had a chance to swallow the wine and I slapped my knee then her back and she started laughing without knowing why. I'd been leaving to run to the radio in my car to check the football scores, my Proline ticket. I never told her the truth, it may have seemed like the something worse.

This year, I think I'm going straight, no betting. It'll kill me, but I want to get back to observing the purity of what's unfolding on the field. I want to be unaffected by what I think and allow the outcomes not to bring me down. This year I don't want to start my week, which is always Tuesday this time of year, feeling like a loser. Because there's nothing worse than having 9 out of 12 teams correct on a ticket, or lose the weekly pool by 1 to a dame that doesn't even like the sport. This way I can concentrate on the Colts, the progress of other team's new coaches, players, revel in the unpredictable nature of the game, drink my beer and relax.

Next year, I might befriend a psychic.

Buffalo

I have always wanted to like the Bills. There is something about them, great players, superb coaching staff - what happens to them? I talked to a pal of mine today, a Bill's fan. He told me that the Bills were playing a pre-season game tonight. Great, I said. Oh, I don't know, he said. What, I said. It's the Bills , he said.

I froze for a minute, just a minute, then it all came very clear to me. My eyes widened and I said, "dude, I know what your team's problem is."

He cocked his head and he said, "Oh, yeah?"

And I said, "Yeah. It's the fans."

And he said, "what?"

I stopped listening to sports radio because of the Buffalo Bill's fans. They are/were the most unloyal fans a team could have. Like picking a daisy - we love you, we love you not, we love you, we love you not - the adolescent love of the team is, well an adolescent love of the team. The team is great, has the potential to be great and when I listen to the radio, to the guys I work with, the well-buts, the excuses, it dawns on me that this team's problem lies not in its merit but in its support.

Ready, Down, Set...

I know, I know most die-hard NFL fans say they don't bother with pre-season games. Then who makes up the roughly 60,000 fans filling the stadiums during these games - movie extras? Granted that by the third quarter when the third string players are hitting the field more and more empty seats appear, but really who doesn't sneak a peek at the game at some point during its duration. For me it's even to hear the voices of my favorite commentators; the eloquent Al Michaels, vivacious John Madden and the Monday Night crew with good ol' Tony Kornheiser, full of his usual wit and vault of obscure knowledge and the newest addition to Monday Nights the funny, intelligent, knowledgable and articulate Ron 'Jaws' Jaworski, held together by the solid commentary of Mike Tirico. So it's not just what's happening on the field that excites me about the burgeoning NFL season but what goes on from the broadcast booth during the game and in the pre-game shows. All the drama, personality,and wisdom coming from above.

I can't help but watch the pre-season games to get that pre-season glimpse at the fellows I've come to know and love throughout the years,even if they are pacing the sidelines or relaxing on the bench, be it Manning, Brady, Hasselbeck, Alexander, Reggie Bush, Champ Bailey, Pennington, Harrington - whose presence I'm looking forward to seeing more of this season. And the new breed, even if none of these players who get a taste of the game in pre-season ever set foot on the field again, it's exciting to know whose hiding in the wings, and reassuring based on the nature of this physical game. I lasted through most of the 49ers vs Broncos game. The speedy 49ers with the return of Alex Smith appear to have a very promising chance this year. Thus far it's been the most exciting game to watch.

The bottom line is it's almost here, the countdown to the season opener is under way. I've stocked up the beer fridge, the snacks, I'm strengthening my vocal chords, reading up on my rosters and stats and placing Kleenex on the coffee tables because the incredible shit that happens during an NFL game - 80 yrd touchback returns, last minute interceptions, Brett Favre moves, Peyton Manning moves...damn-well moves me to tears!

How do we ever get from February to now?