Even the Worldwide Leader is due for a fall

I wanted to call your attention to this Web site (and if you have to copy and paste it, well, Life is hard, now isn't it ...): http://www.everydayshouldbesaturday.com/?p=1406

Let it never be said that I am not one for taking a dim view of the industry that I work in. Don't get me wrong: I love sports. More often than not, I show up to work early because I thrive on the energy in a newsroom and if it is a sports newsroom, so much the better.

The words of co-worker Chris Altruda come to mind: "We get paid for this??" Yes, we do. I mean, to have a job where I can have five hockey/baseball/football games around me cannot be all that bad, no?

But there institution that seemed to start the sports revolution has become way too big and has always been way too full of itself. I am talking about ESPN, the pride of Bristol, Conn.

(As an aside, having worked briefly in nearby New Britain, Conn., I chuckle when I hear those contests that say you can way a trip to the campus of Bristol University ... there is nothing in Bristol worth seeing -- period.)

When ESPN started some 26 years ago, it was a great idea. An all-sports network. Seems like a match made in heaven for the all-around fan. Now, it has been something of a joke, and the blog -- to which I hope you have now seen -- simply points this out: ESPN is EVIL.

Here are some things to consider, courtesy of the Everyday Should Be Saturday blog ...

3. Stuart Scott. His poetry slam two days ago didn't happen, because if we did admit it, then we'd wake up crying in a ball in the corner struck by the sadness of what has become Sportscenter.

My take: I call Stuart Scott "DJ Stewie Stew," but let's be realistic -- Stewie is employed by ESPN to relate to those in tha' Hood regardless of race. I have never seen him do anything that remotely resembles journalism. And making "Boo-YAH!" a catch phrase doesn't count either.

34. Mark May. The youngest disciple of the (Mike) Gottfried school of broadcasting, a nasty, choleric presence on the screen whose vagina-pelt-looking goatee only added to his dislikeable on-air demeanor. Makes pure evil presence of Lou Holtz seem agreeable in comparison.

My take: This is what happens when you let former players/coaches/executives become members of the media. The thinking may be, "Well he (or she) can get us information we would never have access to otherwise."

This, plantively, is bullshit, and makes me think of another line, this from the character Al Giardello, played by Yaphet Kotto, is the old "Homicide: Life of the Street" show on NBC -- "JUST DO YOUR JOB!" In journalism, that sometimes means beating the bushes to get your story and not relying on cronies and the like.

40. ESPNU. Not even sure what this is, but it's unknown and strange -- therefore by instinct we must hate it.

My take: Has anyone even seen this on their cable systems? I believe it is a portion of the network dedicated to college athletics -- you know, like the pros, but without the multimillion dollar deals in the open?

The network has evolved and eventually morphed into something that wouldn't even recognize what it once was. ESPN2. ESPN News. ESPN the Magazine. ESPNU. What's next? ESPN the water? ESPN the contraceptive? ESPN the floor covering? It has become slightly comedic. OK, make that very comedic.

I used to work for a division of ESPN called SportsTicker that was based in New Jersey. I often referred to Ticker as ESPN's bastard child, meaning it was acknowledged, but that was as far as the relationship went. I worked for some interesting characters: Jim Morganthaler, who once suspended me for 2 days because I laughed at him. Executive style is that of a cold brick. ... Anthony "Tony Miles" Mormile, a gangster wanna-be, and at about 500 pounds, I am still wondering 1) how he has not died of heart disease and 2) why anyone would put up with this asshole on any job. As racist as they come.

It takes a certain type of person to work for the mothership in Bristol. After two stints, it was clear I was not that kind of person. And for that, I am thankful.

What do you think? I'd like to know.

Zoom, zoom

Sometimes, you just get so bogged down with stuff, you kind of forget to do this ... so at the prodding of a dear friend in Kansas (think like the rancher going to the pen with a cattle prod) ...

Last Monday may have the single best day in my life. In the space of seven hours, I bought a new car and had a really good date. Yes, gentle reader, you may close your mouth before the flies find their way in -- I said date.

But first, the auto-mo-byle ... some 14 months ago, I bought a Nissan Altima from a dealership in Norwich, Conn., but I never felt entirely comfortable with it -- I felt that from the moment I drove it off the lot, I was being hustled into something I never really wanted.

Todd down in Oklahoma recently bought a Mazda 3 and raved about it. I drove one and could see why. For a small car, it had some pretty good jump to it. So, I was set to trade in the Nissan for a 3, but we could not make the numbers work. They were able to make the numbers work on 2005 Mazda6 -- a car very similar in size to my Nissan.

The commercials are right -- they are fun to drive. A friend in New York also had one when they were still called the 626 and he had it for many years and said it was good. So, at about 6 p.m. last Monday, I drove away from Naperville Mazda the proud owner of a new car.

First place I go? On a date. How's that for making an entrance? Her name is Rebecca and she lives in Chicago. Met her through Match.com and we went to Starbucks for the "break-the-ice" coffee before going to Charlie's Ale House in the city's Andersonville section.

We shut down two places. We have also been spending a lot of time on the phone since. It's been a nice ride so far. I guess the best way to describe how things have been is comfortable ... I don't feel as anxious around her as I have around other women.

Yes, anxiety is a bitch.

So, maybe that's why I have been slacking off in this. Think it's a good reason?

What do you think? I'd like to know.

This old dog

The Montreal Canadiens retired Yvan Cournoyer's No. 12 Saturday night.

To 99 and 44/100ths of the free world, that would not seem like much of a big deal. To hockey fans, especially those of my generation, it is.

Actually, for the first time in the Canadiens' storied history, they retired a number for two players. Cournoyer -- nicknamed "The Roadrunner" -- played from 1963-79. Prior to that, Dickie Moore played pour les Habitants from 1951-63. Between them, they led Montreal to 16 Stanley Cups.

I also, for a moment anyway, realized my own mortality. I watched as the lights in the Bell Centre came up and Cournoyer walked to a podium to address the crowd. I was shocked at how old he was.

Now, I have to remind myself that Cournoyer was born in 1943 -- the year after the U.S. got involved in World War II. That would make him 62 today. Players I grew up watching -- the Cournoyers, Espositos, Orrs and the like -- are all bucking for Social Security now.

Should I be surprised? Not really. I'm 40 -- "old fart-ville" as someone in San Francisco said to me this week. It doesn't really bother me getting older ... I thought it would be worse. Finding another grey hair in the goatee or feeling the bones creak a little more when I get out of bed is in the worst thing in the world.

I could be Yvan Cournoyer. And soon enough, I will be that age.

What do you think? I'd like to know.

Man in the mirror

442 am ... you'd think, I'd be able to sleep at some point. Too much tea. Too much coffee. Too much Diet Mountain Dew. Too much "Goodfellas" and "Slap Shot" overnight on HBO.

We all have problems. Some have addictions. Some think they know it all (thereby pissing off those of us who do.) I know there are many out there who will say I have my share of problems, and they would be right. I'll be the first to admit it ... for years I had a chip on my shoulder the size of, say, I don't know, Saskatchewan? ... for seven years I drank way too much, smoked too many cigarettes ... up until a couple years ago, I ate WAY too much.

My biggest problem, though, has always been self-perception. For the longest time -- and to this day -- I feel like I am damaged goods. Why do I feel like this? It's many of the same things I have some publicly and privately seemingly again and again: Never been married ... hardly date at all ... trust VERY few people; I have been screwed enough times to let many into my life ... feel like I'm largely forgotten by some ... no, not those in Kansas, Long Island, Oklahoma and a few others out there.

Anyway, it is a feeling that has affected my personal and professional lives. I have tried talk therapy. I have tried drug therapy. I did not do either of them particularly long term because I didn't see much if any progress. When I was in talk therapy one-on-one, it felt more like I was on stage doing stand-up.

Sorry, I don't like paying each week to make others laugh. Self-perception be damned.

But to anyone looking at my life right now, they may see a success: I have a nice place in Chicago, fast becoming a great city to live in ... I have a job I truly enjoy -- a co-worker said we're basically stealing money given what we do for a living. ... things are good; for the first time in a long time, things are good.

So why am I unhappy? I know some people who read this will try to explain why I feel this way, but this is something I need to deal with. I need to find a way to get past some events in my life that continue after years to nag in my mind long after, in some cases years and decades after they have happened.

Ray Liotta now realizes his last good drug score was flushed down the toilet, he looks to Paul Sorvino for forgiveness and Paulie turns his back on him. Time to try and get some sleep.

What do you think? I'd like to know.

Growing pains

I did something today that I had never done before: bought furniture.

I'm not talking the Wal-Mart, Sauder, O'Sullivan disposable kind, either. And I started small: a loden, microfiber sofa from Value City of Niles, Ill. (Don Pardo voice -- total retail value, $599). Eventually, I will add an oversized chair to it, making it a living room set. I am also planning on a dinette set and bedroom set from there down the road.

This is uncharted territory for me. It also signals something I have pretty much surmised all along: I will know when the time is right to settle down.

I think the time is right, and I think Chicago and its suburbs will be my home from now on.

At 40, I can look back at the places I have lived in. Some were because I thought I would be able to start a new life there -- Minnesota (3 times!) Some were for work (Ardmore, Okla.; Joplin, Mo.; Pittsburgh; Norwich, Conn.) Some I still have now clue why (Perth Amboy, N.J.)

But the more I explore this area, the more I am liking it and the more I am seeing myself stay here. I've never really been able to say that with a lot of confidence. I'm even working on a plan to save money (ok, everyone can stop laughing now) to put money down on a place of my own. It will take several years, but it will happen.

So what is this? A new phase of life? Time to grow up finally? I'm open to suggestions.

What do you think? I'd like to know.