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Post of 10 July 2019, 19:37

Sorry I haven’t posted in awhile, but nothing good to post about.

Friday was the worst. The absolute worst. Found out I’m so far in over my head I’ll never recover, then I got into a few shouting matches at Golden Q because some couple thought I was taking pictures of them. Bull.

I went to Salina yesterday just to clear my head a little. I didn’t leave the basement Saturday and Sunday, then only went to Hays Monday long enough to drop a FedEx in the box for Crista.

This morning, I discovered I was so stupid I threw away one of the discs from my Brady Bunch collection. Season 3, Disc 2 is gone. How dumb can I be? Fortunately, season 3 by itself only cost $9 on Amazon, so I’ll have it back Friday afternoon. But man, what am I thinking? I’m not.

I would have spent the afternoon wallowing in my stupidity, but I had an appointment with Dr. Custer. I decided to go back to Golden Q even though I knew the kitchen was close and there would be heavy renovations going on.

The air conditioning has been turned off as part of that renovation, but I’ve experienced much worse. Lucky I had a portable fan in my car. It feels pretty good right now. I’ll get my six and a half hours of Wednesday trivia before going back to Russell.

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The televisions at Golden Q have been disconnected. Thank God.

I don’t have to watch the most nauseating event on the sporting calendar.

The ESPYs.

Other than Jim Valvano’s courageous speech at the first ESPYs in 1993, the one where the beloved North Carolina State basketball coach stood tall in the face of terminal cancer and told the audience in attendance and those watching at home to never give up, I can’t think of one thing the ESPYs have contributed to better the sports world and society in general.

Naming an award after Arthur Ashe, who passed away from AIDS one month before the first ESPYs, is a good idea. However, in 2015, it was awarded to Bruce, I mean Caitlyn Jenner, simply because Bruce decided he wanted to become a woman.

I don’t have anything against anyone who wants to change their gender. There have been many times I wish I were female.

However, Jenner had no good reason to receive that award. Besides, we saw enough of Jenner and his/her family since he married Robert Kardashian’s widow (Kim, Kourntey and Khloe’s mother). I think Bruce made a huge downgrade by dumping his former wife, Linda Thompson, one of the women who caused Priscilla Presley to leave Elvis.

Worse than the ESPYs being nothing more than athletes to get together and congratulate each other on how great they are, FANS decide many of the awards.

I haven’t voted for the MLB All-Star Game since 1991, and I won’t resume anytime soon. I don’t vote in online polls for anything anymore. I don’t believe fans have the right to determine anything. They know very little to nothing.

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The Women’s World Cup is over. THANK GOD.

I have had it up to here with the far left’s favorite athlete, Megan Rapinoe, and Alex Morgan, who doesn’t look as good in a bikini as many think. The media would have you believe they are the only players in the tournament who mattered.

We’ll have to hear non-stop about these two next year at the Summer Olympics. Hopefully, they will exit the international stage and go off to make babies or do whatever with their lives.

Between those two, Hope Solo and Carli Lloyd, I’ve had it up to hear with the U.S. women’s national association football team.

Time to leave the stage, girls. Let the men take over. Nobody outside the U.S. cares anymore about you. It’s time for the Premier League, Bundesliga, La Liga, Ligue 1 and Serie A to take their rightful places in the football spotlight.

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The fake league won the MLB All-Star Game last night. At least it doesn’t count for anything.

Bud Selig, thank you for bringing baseball back to Milwaukee. But your idea to make the All-Star Game count for home field advantage in the World Series was so asinine there isn’t a word for it. At least the Royals choked in 2014 when they had home field advantage vs. the Giants.

At least Selig has revealed he didn’t want Barry Bonds to break Hank Aaron’s career home run record. Anyone who wanted Bonds to do it thinks cheating is just fine and needs psychiatric help.

Fuck you Barry Bonds. You are cheating asshole.

And that unrepentant asshole Pete Rose can go fuck himself. You broke the rules. You lied your ass off for 15 years. And even though you’ve admitted to gambling, you still do it. Fuck you.

Sorry for the coarse language. But I hate Bonds and Rose as much as any athlete. Megan Rapinoe and Alex Morgan are in my top 25 for sure, along with LeBron, Brady, Kawhi, Tyreek Hill and (S)Cam Newton

Kansas City (low) lights

The Kansas City morass is over for now. I got the hell out of dodge yesterday at 1040. It was past time.

Monday was nothing but boredom. Eight hours at Buffalo Wild Wings with not talking to anyone and nobody else playing trivia. Everyone I knew who works there wanted Monday off because two employees had their wedding reception Sunday night–40 days after the ceremony and 1,100 miles from where it took place. . One bartender was bitching he was up until 0400 Monday then had to come into work at 0730.

Well, dumbass, there’s no reason to be up until 0400 unless you have to be. I don’t feel the least bit sorry for you.

I am done with weddings, unless Caitlyn invites me to hers, which I doubt. I’m not getting married, and I don’t want to go to anyone else’s.

Between not seeing anyone I knew, whether it be employees at B-Dubs or fellow trivia players, and the heat, it was a waste. I didn’t make it to Columbia. Then the trunk of my car was splattered by a bird Monday night. I sat in way too much traffic.

Tuesday morning, I woke up and found a message in my Twitter DM box from Peggy. She wondered if I was still in Kansas City, because she wanted to meet me in Russell on her way to Miami County, where she was going to spend the holiday weekend with Courtney and Andy, their kids, and the rest of the Cox and Otto clans.

Thank you Peggy! You saved me a lot of pain.

The room move paid off yesterday. The room I moved to Sunday evening was directly below my other one, and I had easy up and down the east stairwell to my car. Within 45 minutes, I was packed, the car was loaded, and I could get back to Russell.

At 1430, I was back at 1224 North Brooks. Thankfully.

Peggy and I met over Subway at 1730. I wouldn’t go for Subway, but she wanted to try one of the new sandwiches on ciabatta bread. I tried one and it was great. Maybe I’ll go back for more.

I’m not big on Subway because I grew up eating too many great sandwiches in New Orleans. Between oyster po-boys, shrimp po-boys and muffulettas, I couldn’t go wrong.

Back to the Golden Q today. No Cassandra. Par for the course this week.

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The United States female association football team defeated England yesterday and now plays The Netherlands for the championship Sunday.

Alex Morgan embarrassed herself after scoring the second US goal yesterday, mocking England by mimicking a proper lady sipping tea out of a cup.

Morgan is married to some tattooed association football player from Mexico now playing in the fraud of a league known as Major League Soccer, so she will never be accused of knowing how to properly sip tea.

I am sick and tired of the American jingoistic media fawning over Morgan and Megan Rapinoe, who sat out yesterday with a muscle pull. It’s as if nobody else is on the team, although Julie Ertz gets some coverage simply because her husband is a tight end for the Philadelphia Eagles.

Between the disgusting displays by US players after scoring goals to manager (do not call an association football leader a “coach”) Jill Ellis sending members of her staff to scout a hotel where England was staying in case the Americans won, I have had it up to here with this team. They were just as arrogant in 2015, when Carli Lloyd was being praised as the greatest thing since sliced bread and Hope(less) Solo was still around.

I want the Dutch to win Sunday. It would force the jingoistic Americans to shut the hell up. It’s only going to get worse between now and the opening of the 2020 Summer Olympics in Tokyo.

That was a very good reason to bail out of Kansas City yesterday. There were a bunch of jingoistic American fans at Buffalo Wild Wings Friday who would not shut up. Sadly, my headphones had no battery life and I stupidly forgot the charging cord in my hotel room, so I was screwed.

I know what I will not be watching Sunday. I’m ready for this crap to end.

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Wimbledon began Monday. Boy.

The non-stop Serena worship is on full blast from London. Most ESPN “experts” think Serena will win the ladies’ singles title.

I honestly don’t care who wins, as long as it is not Serena. I quit caring about tennis when Martina Navratilova, Chris Evert, Jimmy Connors and John McEnroe all passed their primes.

Another thing which gets my goat are media who keep using “WIMBLEDON, ENGLAND” in bylines. WIMBLEDON is a section of LONDON. The byline should always be LONDON. They must have forgotten a few things in journalism school.

When the Brooklyn Nets play at home, the byline always reads “NEW YORK” not “BROOKLYN, NEW YORK”. Same with the Yankees, Mets, Rangers and Islanders. It’s always NEW YORK, not the borough. Why can’t the idiots who cover Wimbledon get it?

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Looks like I may have extra trivia tonight. It is pouring in Hays, and the storm is barely moving. Reminds me of Louisiana when storms would dump buckets of rain on one place, yet five miles away, not a drop fell.

Everyone who is coming into The Q over the past hour has been soaked. I made the right choice by not cracking the windows in my Buick.

Tomorrow is INDEPENDENCE DAY. Yes, the date is 4 July, but it is INDEPENDENCE DAY in this country. Everywhere else has a 4 July, too, but it doesn’t hold the significance.

Frenchy Foots

Vive France!

That’s right, I hope the United States of America LOSES today’s Women’s World Cup quarterfinal vs. the host nation in Paris.

I have had it up to here with Megan Rapinoe, her over-the-top celebrations (which are nothing new) and her using the US women’s national association football team as a platform to push the Black Lives Matter narrative.

I don’t care one iota she’s a lesbian (married to WNBA star Sue Bird no less). I don’t care that her views are in lock step with Colin Kaepernick, although I cannot stand Kaepernick’s glorification of Che Guevara, who harbored virulent anti-American feelings.

What I care about is Rapinoe is disrespecting the national anthem of the United States when she is representing said nation in an international sporting event.

As much as Kaepernick infuriated rednecks and other assorted racists, and as much as I didn’t agree with it, the National Football League is a private organization, not connected to any government.

The U.S. Association Football Federation (I’m not using the S word) is not a government entity, but it is representing the United States by sending teams into international competition. The FIFA Women’s World Cup happens to be the world’s biggest team sports competition for women. It sends a poor message when the CAPTAIN of the team representing the United States can’t swallow her pride for two minutes while The Star-Spangled Banner is played.

I’m also fed up with the media’s obsession with two players on the U.S. squad, Rapinoe and Alex Morgan.

From what the media is feeding us, Morgan is the greatest to step on a pitch for the United States.

Mia Hamm would run circles around Morgan, and she never got near the attention during the 1999 World Cup. She was but one of many who shared the spotlight, with the most notable being Brandi Chastain, Julie Foudy and Kristine Lilly.

VIVE FRANCE!

Blue Sunday night (and Monday)

I’ve been singing the blues since 2200 last night, at least as far as sports goes.

The Blues choked in their attempt to win their first Stanley Cup last night, losing 5-1 at home to the Bruins. The series goes back to Boston for the winner-take-all game seven Wednesday.

St. Louis has performed very well away from the Enterprise Center in the playoffs, winning 9 of 12. However, no team in the Stanley Cup Finals has lost game six at home, then recovered to win game seven on the road since the Maple Leafs in 1945, who lost to the Red Wings in Toronto, but somehow got back up and took the Cup at Detroit’s venerable Olympia.

The Blues became the third team this millennium to lose game six of the finals on home ice. The Devils blew it in 2001 and the Flames did it three years later. New Jersey bowed to the Avalanche in Denver, and Calgary choked against the Lightning, subjecting us to the ridiculous spectacle of the Cup being skated in Tampa by the home team.

Three other times since 1995 have the finals have reached game seven:

2003–the Devils and (Mighty) Ducks each fail to break through on the road. New Jersey has the good fortune of home ice advantage.

2006–the Hurricanes lose twice to the Oilers after taking a 3-1 series lead, but recover to win the Cup in Raleigh

2011–the Canucks and Bruins split the first six games, with neither team able to win away from home. In the seventh game, that changes, with Boston rolling 4-0 in Vancouver, prompting lawlessness in the streets of British Columbia.

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Meanwhile, about 800 miles down the Mississippi River, LSU’s 2019 baseball season came to a sorrowful conclusion.

The Bayou Bengals were swept in their super regional by Florida State. LSU blew a 4-0 lead in the first game and lost 6-4, and in the second, it erased a 4-0 deficit, only to lose 5-4 in 12 innings.

LSU’s season ended 40-25. There were some highs, like winning a series in Starkville, but some real lows, like being swept in Austin by a mediocre Texas team which finished last in the Big 12 and losing a series for the first time to Missouri.

The Seminoles are going to the College World Series in coach Mike Martin’s 40th and final season. Martin has won the most career games of any baseball coach in NCAA Division I, surpassing 2,000 earlier this year.

The Seminoles will be in Omaha for the 17th time under Martin, who succeeded the late, great Dick Howser when the latter left Tallahassee in late 1979 to become manager of the. Yankees and later the Royals. FSU also played in Omaha six times prior to Martin’s ascension. The Seminoles’ baseball stadium is fittingly named Mike Martin Field at Dick Howser Stadium.

For all their success in the regular season and early rounds of the postseason, the Seminoles have yet to claim the brass ring. Their 22 previous CWS appearances without a title are the most. By comparison, LSU didn’t make its first CWS until 1986 and has six titles in 18 appearances.

Martin’s plight resembles that of longtime FSU football coach Bobby Bowden, who came close season after season in the 1980s and early 1990s before winning two titles in 1993 and ’99. Bowden and Martin are good friends, and I bet Bobby will be in Omaha rooting on his former school.

I’ll never forget the 1998 CWS. I went to Omaha for the first time. In the first game of that year’s series. FSU lost 11-10 to Arizona State in a game marked by numerous errors and wild plays.

A reporter came back to the Rosenblatt Stadium press box with audio from Martin’s postgame press conference. The first words out of Martin’s mouth: “We stunk the dadgum cotton picking ballyard up!”

The Seminoles were eliminated two days later by Long Beach State. Martin was much more subdued and conciliatory after losing to the 49ers (aka Dirtbags).

In 1999, FSU reached the championship game, but lost to archrival Miami (from 1988-2002, there was a single CWS championship game). In 2000, the Seminoles were ousted by LSU, which went on to win its fifth title under Skip Bertman.

Another school which has been to Omaha plenty with nothing to show for it, Mississippi State, is going back. Also in the field are Louisville, Texas Tech, Michigan (first time since 1984), Auburn (first time since 1997) and Vanderbilt. Arkansas looks like it will round out the field, as the Razorbacks lead Ole Miss 7-1 in the fourth at Fayetteville in the decisive game of that super regional.

I’ll take Vanderbilt and Arkansas in an all-SEC championship series. And I’ll take the Razorbacks to overcome their heartbreak from last year’s championship series loss to Oregon State, which would bring Arkansas its first baseball national championship and first major sports title since basketball in 1994.

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Once the Blues fell behind 3-0 last night, I turned off live television and switched back to The Brady Bunch DVD collection. I’m halfway through season four. I’m going to rewatch them once I get through the entire series.

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I need to get my car washed. The bugs are bugging me big time. It looks horrible.

For those who live in a big city, you would be well advised to get an unlimited car wash plan. It will do wonders against the bugs in the summer and the snow, ice and grime in winter.

One good news for my car: my custom sunshade arrived today. It works great. The generic ones in Target (and Walmart, even though I no longer shop there) don’t fit my car. They are awful. No wonder they are #########################################################################

The United States plays its first match in the FIFA Women’s World Cup tomorrow in France. At least Hope Solo, Lauren Holliday and Sydney LeRoux are no longer on team. However, Megan Rapinoe, Alex Morgan and Carli Lloyd are, and those are three big reasons I’m rooting against the Americans.

Morgan is nowhere near the caliber of player former teammate Abby Wambach was, and certainly not in the same league as past greats Mia Hamm, Michelle Akers, Julie Foudy, Brandi Chastain, Kristine Lilly and Cindy Parlow.

The only reason Morgan is getting attention? She’s a sexpot. She posed in a bikini for the Sports Illustrated swimsuit edition. So what?

Rapinoe is association football’s version of Collin Kaepernick, taking a knee during the Star-Spangled Banner to protest pay inequality in association football and the poor treatment of LQBT athletes like Rapinoe (and Wambach). If she wants to protest on her own time, that’s her business. I don’t give a darn if she’s a lesbian. That’s her privilege. However, she should not protest her country’s national anthem representing that country on an international stage. Rapinoe needs to pipe down during the competition. Save it for later.

Lloyd is nowhere near Hamm. Give it up already.

Solo is a crybaby. And she’s stupid for marrying a man, former Seahawks tight end Jerramy Stevens, who beat the piss out of her days before their wedding. This weekend, Solo opened her mouth and inserted her foot by saying US manager Jill Ellis chokes in pressure situations.

Last I checked, Ellis was the team’s manager in 2015 when Solo and the US won the World Cup. Therefore, Hope(less) Solo should shut up.

Of the current players, Julie (Johnston) Ertz would crack the starting XI in any era. But that’s it.

Personally, I’d like to see France, Germany or England win the Women’s World Cup. The jingoism of American broadcasters is sickening. That’s why I loved the 2018 Men’s World Cup–the Americans were nowhere to be found, and Fox had to actually cover the matches as neutral journalists, not as surreptitious cheerleaders for Uncle Sam.

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Have I bored you? If I have, I’m sorry. That’s it. For now.