One of These Days Alice…

Posted: July 26, 2012 in Introduction



By Phillip Bausk

Everyone has their own boiling points. Some people get mad immediately, seeing red whenever something happens that doesn’t sit right with them, whether it is inconsequential like being cutoff walking on the street, or life altering, such as not being chosen for that promotion they have been working on for years. Others are able to things in stride, but eventually, reach a point of frustration that may cause them to abuse others, either with obvious words or actions, or through the classic passive-aggressive standard of having seething meanings behind innocuous comments. Frustration, as much as some of us would hate to admit it, is part of our everyday life, even more than perhaps our closest friends and lovers would care to be.

While I can go into a diatribe about how mind-bending a simple subway ride can be, I don’t care to bore you with my insights on the matter (though I am sure some of you would be oddly interested in that). Nor am I here to discuss the frustration I saw in a friend’s face dealing with issues taking the Bar exam, knowing that he still had a full day left of what most people may deem as “pure hell.”

While normally being a safe haven of built up sexual tension, sports have recently become a source of frustration, resulting in three different episodes of me screaming at toddlers (not true….maybe). In the past 30 days or so, even without any Tony Romo 4th quarter losses, or any Akron Scammer interviews/celebrations/stupid t-shirt slogans, I find myself becoming easily riled up when reading or discussing certain sports topics. The reasoning is something I am incredibly unsure of. Perhaps I am going through early menopause, or maybe the bouts of boredom at work are causing me to go slightly insane, either way, I am due for screaming at toddler number 4 on the train ride home from work.

Let’s start with the first sport that is ravaging my hairline, baseball. My Boston Red Sox can’t seem to get their poop together and we are roughly 100 games into the season. While there have been a ton of injuries, it seems that no one on the team wants to be there, and I feel a lot of that has to do with Bobby Valentine. Some may like the way he manages both clubhouses and games, but I do not think this team ever wanted a guy like Bobby V in there. Were there some issues last year in the clubhouse? Yes. Did something have to change? Yes. However, there are other managers different from Bobby V and from Terry Francona, and based on the results so far this season, it seems that Sox ownership took a bit of a detour away from their 3rd World Series ring. This team is more than capable of what they are doing right now and while they aren’t out of it yet, something has to change quickly, otherwise an early fall vacation is in store and all of New England will go back to focusing on Rob Gronkowski’s dub step hobbies.

Pedroia isn’t hitting, Ortiz goes on the DL at an awful time. Lester looks like a joke every time he goes to the mound. His curveball is flat, he can’t locate any of his 4 fastballs, and his body language is screaming that he wants to get out of Boston and start banging chicks outside of Dodgers Stadium….just not with Magic Johnson. Beckett has been decent lately, and Buchholz and Doubront seem to be the only guys who give a damn when they get on the mound. Even Vincente Padilla would be a better starting option than Jon Lester, and we can actually think about doing that is Lester gets moved for 2 mid-level prospects, though I see Lester staying and hopefully turning it around faster than a Charlie Sheen commercial can ruin someone’s evening of primetime television.

Then we get to fantasy baseball. Sure, it may not be real, but it’s very real to me. I have been saddled with 3 mediocre teams that seem to be slowly deteriorating. So what do you do when you think your team has leveled out? You make trades, roster additions etc…And while it seems that I am getting the better end of 90% of the trades I have made, all 3 of my teams are still hanging out on the 5th floor, scratching themselves and waiting for the top floors to crash on top of them and pancake them 2-3 floors outside of the playoffs. Basically, the only question is I have is why couldn’t I have Mike Trout in all 3 of my leagues? When it comes down to it, there are still 40-60 games left, depending on the league, and maybe by the season’s end, my latest addition of Ben Sheets will be comeback player of the year, or shipped to Iraq for medical testing and disposal.

Finally, the last sports related topic, or man I should say, that has been eating at me for weeks is Stephen A. Smith. I do not understand how a man like him has a job, and no that is not a racist joke, but seems to have been the perfect spot for one. His articles are terribly written, and convey arguments that are distorted from the original point he is trying to make. On television, he gains parody because he is a caricature of himself, and of a real person. He is a walking stereotype, which allowed him to be on SNL because frankly, I am sure you can go through SNL history and find that same character with other names. He is very strong opinioned, and doesn’t ever waver on his argument, which is one thing I do like about him, it is just how he gets to those opinions and his tactics in defending them. He repeatedly argues his way away from the question or point he was being interrogated about, often leading to a ridiculous conversation. I really hope it is not for ratings. If ESPN needs ratings, let Erin Andrews talk about anything she wants in a two-piece, hula hooping on the beaches of Bristol. Quite Frankly (get it?!?!) it is time for ESPN to move on and let Steven A. talk his way out of why he doesn’t have tip the cab driver who takes him from Bristol to Crackton.



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