Deep breaths

First thing to everyone who responded to my last post -- thank you.

Apart from those I consider close friends, others walked back into my life and perfect strangers -- people who know nothing of me and I nothing of them -- showed concern for my well being.

I have no plans of doing anything stupid. But that doesn't mean the problems that brought me to this meltdown have gone away. My voice is kind of hoarse from the silent screaming.

I need help. People who know me have told me this for years and, stubborn as I am, I resisted except for a brief time some four years ago. First thing I need to do is get health insurance from the new job and then plan some sort of strategy.

Again -- I am better than I was 48 or even 24 hours ago. Now I just need to get back on that long road. I'm not good at accepting help. I may have to change that attitude.

--Andy--

What to do ... what to do ...

Those who know me know I will go to the ends of the Earth to help those I care about when they need it.

I wish someone would do that for me. If there is anyone who probably needs an intervention, it's me.

When I was a kid -- a young one -- I used to be happy. I used to laugh. Now, I'm just miserable and its been going on far too long.

I am five weeks short of 40 years old and it's almost like a siren has gone off ... the last 10 years have passed me by and I blame no one but myself for that. Depression has been a huge part of my life, but the last decade has just been one inkset blur. One disappointment after another ... after another.

I was on anti-depressants a few years ago -- Paxil, 20 mg., once a day -- and it seemed to work, but the side effects were, shall we say, less than desirable. Earlier this year, I was back on meds -- a different kind, I don't even remember what they were -- and I craved every carb under the sun and gained about 10 pounds. There was talk therapy for awhile, but I felt more like I was onstage for 50 minutes, once a week.

This is my silent scream. I need help. I don't normally come right out and say it, but I need help. Now.

Bling Crosby

So much for the dream of Sidney Crosby playing on the biggest stage in the world. Instead, perhaps the best hockey player to come out of juniors in a couple decades -- barring any trades or just general stupidity -- will be playing in Pittsburgh.

Having been in Mellon Arena a few times, it's a step down from many junior rinks Sid the Kid played in.

Now, comes the problem for the Penguins. They need a new arena in the worst way possible or, plain and simple, they will move (Portland? Cincinnati? Houston? Milwaukee? Seattle? Dare I say Winnipeg??)

In an article by Dave Molinari of the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette, "The Penguins' prospects for a new arena are tied to the awarding of the license to operate a Downtown slots parlor. Whether adding Crosby to the roster will impress any bureaucrats in Harrisburg remains to be seen, but owner Mario Lemieux said, 'It's not going to hurt, obviously.'"

Judging from the crush of people calling in for tickets and soon donning black, white and Vegas gold jerseys with No. 87 on the back, Mellon will have regular sellouts again just like in the glory days of Lemieux, Jagr, etc.

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

Your serve, Mr, Bettman

The NHL will hold its weighted lottery Friday for the sport's newest prize, Sidney Crosby.

The Rangers are one of a handful of teams that will have three balls in the hopper. Any sports fan needs to think back to the first NBA draft in 1985 when Patrick Ewing was the prize coming from Georgetown.

To this day, any conspiracy theorist will say it was a slam dunk that the New York Knicks were getting Ewing. Of course it didn't result in any championships, but many years of very good play.

Could Crosby -- supposedly the greatest thing to hit the ice since Mario and Wayne -- be destined to start his career in the largest sports media market? A market that has not seen a playoff team yet this millennium?

We will know at 4 p.m. Friday. Then No. 87 may be as familiar as 66 or 99.

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

Oh, well

And so, it goes. I should know better: the caste system is alive and well after all.

Wow (!!!)

OK, I may come off sounding like a goof. Well, no more so than usual ... but I don't care.

I went out to dinner Friday night with a woman named Tracy who I met through an online site. Tracy is a lawyer who works in Washington, D.C. (I don't want to give too many details about where she works or exactly what she does for obvious reasons, OK? OK.)

It was a pleasant dinner with really good conversation. She is originally from Long Island -- even went to school a couple towns over from me when I lived in Queens, N.Y. She's very attractive, smart -- make that *scary* smart (there were times I didn't think I'd be able to keep up with her -- and I love a good challenge).

We've agreed to go out again -- another pleasant surprise.

So why, gentle reader, should you care about a first date? Think back to some of your first dates and not the ones that ended awkwardly -- or disastrously -- neither. Remember how you felt, how happy or excited you were.

It's an underrated feeling, as far as I'm concerned. And it's pretty damn nice too.

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

This just in!

After 301 days, the NHL lockout is over, pending ratification of a new collective bargaining agreement.

Now, I can turn over and go back to sleep. The sad thing is I felt this need to read news of the Sprint-Nextel merger first.

I will write a longer post about the NHL in the coming days once things shake out. Stay tuned.

It's just sad ...

Exhibit No. 1 why Boston Red Sox pitcher David Wells may be the biggest jackass in the Major Leagues today.

According to an Associated Press report, Wells said he understood why Texas pitcher Kenny Rogers shoved two cameramen, comparing the situation to a sexual assault.

"Some guy's being aggressive with a woman, and she says no, and he keeps on doing it. Well, you know what's going to happen. No is no in anything, when it comes to sexual or you know, whatever it is. No is no," Wells said during an appearance on Rhode Island radio station WSKO on Friday. "And I'm sure Kenny said, 'Hey, get it out of my face, don't do it.' But no, they want the big story, they want the scoop, you know?"

Wells added: "I probably would have done the same thing."

Given his biker-bad boy image, is anyone surprised by this?

Wells' tough-guy act played well but burned out quickly in Toronto, Detroit, Cincinnati, Baltimore, New York, Chicago and San Diego. I'm sure Boston will be added to that list soon.

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

Sound off ...

1. Lance Armstrong? 55-second lead? Chill the bubbly and just give him the Tour de France now.

2. Is there any other food that is a better guilty pleasure than barbecue?

3. Free Judith Miller and stop slapping the First Amendment around.

4. Portland and Seattle are just 175 miles apart. New Blazers coach Nate McMillan will find them worlds apart.

5. Was there a more scripted, insincere attempt at an apology than what Kenny Rogers delivered Wednesday? Sounds like the Rangers' media relations department drew that one up.

6. Time's Matt Cooper folds up faster than a beach chair during a hurricane. You may want to reconsider that career choice.

7. Imagine William Wallace at the G-8 Summit going on now in Scotland. Claymore anyone?

8. The NHL is expected to have a new deal in place sometime next week. To quote Billy Crystal from "Running Scared" -- "Right, and I'm Walter Payton."

9. The NFL exhibition season starts in 30 days. I can hold out. Maybe.

10. Alton Brown is right ... there is nothing like the taste of a farmstand tomato.

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

Thanks, but ...

Live 8 has come and gone. Musicians around the world have focused the spotlight on Africa, how it is being suffocated by crushing debt, how HIV and AIDS are ravaging the continent.

Now, the question. Will all the posturing do any good?

I'm cynical: I doubt much more will be done after the concerts.

Consider this from -- of all people -- Muammar Qaddafi via The Associated Press: he told African nations to stop "begging" from the rich and to cooperate more in a blunt speech before a summit of the continents' leaders Monday.

"Pleading to the G-8 to lift debts won't make a future for Africa," Qaddafi, wearing his traditional robes, said.

Has the temperature dropped in Hell or am I just feeling a chill?

BTW, loyal reader(s), I'd like you to check out a fellow blogger's work. Todd of Broken Arrow, Okla. -- who I have known almost 20 years going back to Barnes & Noble in the pre-superstore era in Forest Hills, N.Y., can be read at http://secularmiddle.blogspot.com.

There is a link to the right along with a blog by Lyndy -- Topeka's favorite "shiksa" ... hey, if I can teach a Midwest gal the wonders of "Oy" and matzo ball soup, she can be an honorary member of the Tribe!

And -- as always -- let me know what you think. I'd like to know.

And the verdict is ...

ESPN.com reports Kenny Rogers was suspended for 20 games and fined $50,000 by commissioner Bug Selig for his incident this week involving two cameramen.

The funny thing is Rogers still gets to pitch in the All-Star game if selected.

Way to put some teeth in that punishment, Bud.

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

Got to know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em ....

This was not a meltdown like Three Mile Island, but this one was pretty bad. And all aparently because another spoiled athlete did not get his way.

By now, you've likely seen the footage of Texas Rangers pitcher Kenny Rogers take out two cameras and at least one of the cameramen holding them. Bud Selig is personally going to review the case and mete out punishment -- 10-game suspension, he misses two starts is my call.

And why did Rogers melt down? It all stems back to cash.

According to The Associated Press, Rangers general manager John Hart said Rogers was upset of the perception that he missed his start Tuesday night for some reason other than the broken pinkie in his non-throwing hand, sustained in an angry outburst after a game two weeks ago.

Rogers has sought a contract extension from the Rangers, and some media and fans viewed his missing a start against the first-place Angels as a possible ploy in negotiations.

Rogers hasn't spoken to most media since before spring training, when the pitcher met with owner Tom Hicks and asked about an extension to his two-year contract that expires after this season. He denied a report that he threatened to retire and has since quit talking publicly.

Hart said there had been some recent talks with Rogers' agent, Scott Boras, about a new contract but that there would be no more discussion about a new deal until after the season.

Rogers is 9-3 with a 2.46 ERA, clearly one of the best pitchers in baseball this season. But he is also 40 years old and has a career mark of 185-126; not exactly Hall of Fame material, but pretty good nonetheless.

Still, time is running short on his career. He wants one last big payday before retirement. The Rangers are wise to wait.

Rogers is just added to the long list of athletes -- Randy Johnson (who took out a camerman in New York); Latrell Sprewell (who can't live on $14 million a year); Jeremy Roenick (who really doesn't need hockey fans to fill the building); Kellen Winslow Jr. (better not say too much about him or Daddy will berate me like he did the Cleveland media who wanted an update on Junior's condition after his Evel Knievel act) -- who just don't get it.

You sign the contract, are paid beyond handsomely and adored by many. You also become a public entity. That is not to say that people can egg your home a la Albert Belle several years ago, but you do lose some sense of anonymity.

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

Live and learn

To echo someone I know from Topeka ... here's what I don't get.

I used to be one for helping people down on their luck. If I passed a homeless person in New York City and they needed some spare change or a buck to get by, I would give it up, no questions asked.

That was until about 11 years when, walking down the stairs to the Continental Avenue subway station in Forest Hills, N.Y., some wiseguy tried to mug me because I wouldn't give him anything.

Note I said "tried." He pulled a jeweler's screwdriver out. I had my fists. Guess who won?

Fast forward to June 29, 2005. After my shift and a 90-minute workout in the building, I was walking back to my car when a woman, maybe my age or a little younger, literally came up to me begging for money. She said she was pregnant and hungry and thirsty and needed money. I explained to her I didn't have any money on me. She kept begging for cash though.

I did have something though in my car -- food and water from my old place that has just been sitting in my trunk. Nothing perishable, just cereal, some cans of soup. I offered her a box of cereal -- if nothing else, she would have had something to eat. Instead, she asked for water.

No problem. I gave her two 24-ounce bottles: Washington D.C. is a hot, humid city even at 1 a.m.

So, how should I feel when as she walked away, she threw one of the bottles of water into a tree garden outside a building? Stunned would be accurate. Disappointed another. Angry a third.

I understand circumstances can dictate what happens in a person's life. When it comes to the homeless -- and there are a lot of them in D.C. -- do not give them money. If you are pack-rattish like me, offer them food and/or water. If you feel the need to give money, give it to an organization that assists the homeless.

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

Who wants to shoot J.R.?

Jeremy Roenick
c/o Philadelphia Flyers hockey club
3601 S. Broad St.
Philadelphia, Pa.
19145

Dear Mr. Roenick:

I know you've enjoyed quite a career in the NHL with Chicago, Phoenix and Philadelphia. Two-time 50-goal scorer. Coming up on 500 career goals. Sounds like the making of a Hall of Famer.

Clearly, though you have taken one too many pucks to the head. That or the concussions you've endured in your career are clouding your judgment.

In an Associated Press story this past weekend, you weighed in on the season-long NHL lockout by saying, "we're going to try to make it better for everybody, period, end of subject."

How do you propose that? Please, by all means, enlighten us.

You followed that with this nugget of wisdom: "And if you don't realize that, then don't come. We don't want you at the rink, we don't want you in the stadium, we don't want you to watch hockey. I say personally, to everybody who called us 'spoiled,' you guys are just jealous ... we have tried so, so hard to get this game back on the ice."

Hey, J.R., you really need to watch who you're throwing under the bus. If there is something every player -- from Ramzi Abid to Andrei Zyuzin -- must do once this is settled is win back the dwindling fan base the NHL has.

There was a time in my life where I did not think I could survive without hockey, reading the boxscores, keeping up with my rotisserie teams. The lockout has changed that. I have written in the past about going to games across North America, but I suspect that is not going to happen anymore.

I still plan on staying away. This has nothing to do with jealousy, J.R. This has to do with two spoiled entities -- players and owners -- who have killed off the sport. Just because YOU have a problem with the agreement the players seem ready to sign, go bark at Bob Goodenow and leave the fans out of it.

Oh, and J.R, do me a favor. I know you have been paid handsomely throughout your career. Try working for mid-five figures a year. Try looking for a house with payments you can afford on that. Car payments. Insurance. Putting away something for retirement.

Still think it's easy to drop money for a couple tickets to see you? Guess again. It's hardly jealousy. Just a matter of priorities.

Sincerely,
Andy Lefkowitz

No freakin' kidding??

I don't watch a lot of television -- I'm more of a channel-hopper. But I really feel the need to weigh in on this ...

Commercials truly represent the dumbing-down of America.

There are two of them in particular. One is for Frank's Red-Hot, a sauce key to making the perfect order of Buffalo wings. The other is for Doritos -- you know, Saddam Hussein's guilty pleasure.

In the Frank's commercial, one chef blasts another with a fire extinguisher because the second one made wings with a sauce that's "more about heat than flavor." The Doritos commercial shows a college student trying to get bag of chips that doesn't quite make it out of the machine -- he crawls in the machine to get it.

Both commercials come with a warning: Don't try this at home.

REALLY?? If manufacturers think we are smart enough to use their products, how about giving us the credit NOT to mimic what we see on television.

Is anyone else annoyed by this or am I just blowing it out of proportion? Tell me what you think ... I'd like to know.

Take me out to the ballgame

Went to RFK Stadium in Washington Saturday night to see the Nationals and the Blue Jays.

It's good to see baseball is back in D.C. after a 34-year absence. And while I was sitting in last row of Sec. 517, next to a very young child who cried -- and cried, and cried some more -- because it was too loud, here were some observations.

1. Good to see enthusiasm when the Nats took the field and throughout the game. I wonder if it would be the same if the team was, say, 11 games under .500.

2. To the singer of the Canadian national anthem, it's "O, Canada," not "Whoa, Canada."

3. I know the Wave has not been seen in Washington. It's 20 years old. Stop doing it. Please.

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

Yankee haters, rejoice!

They're 37-36. They're one-half game ahead of Toronto.

I guess $200 million just doesn't go as far as it used to.

For those who hate the Yankees, this is definitely a summer a rejoice in.

My problem is not so much with the Yankees, but their fans, many of whom seem to think the World Series belongs to them as a matter of divine right.

That notwithstanding, let's examine what they are: Old (18 players have at least 10 years experience; eight have at least 14 years). Slow (Tony Womack and Derek Jeter have 27 stolen bases; the rest of the team, just 19). Brittle (Randy Johnson suddenly looks 41 years old. Carl Pavano is too inconsistent. Kevin Brown is still, well, Kevin Brown).

Add six losing streaks of at least three games and despite the skids, the questions are asked: Will they make the playoffs? When will the Yankees start to look like the Yankees?

Not this year. And given the contracts they're saddled with -- Jason Giambi's, Alex Rodriguez's, and, yes, even Jeter's -- the Yankees may be looking like nothing more than a .500 team -- or worse -- for many years.

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

The death penalty is alive in Texas

The NCAA did the right thing Thursday coming down on the Baylor University men's basketball team for its handling of the Patrick Dennehy situation.

According to ESPN's Andy Katz, Baylor will only play 16 regular-season games, all in the Big 12, in 2005-06. The Bears are eligible for the conference tournament and postseason but probably can only earn an NCAA berth by winning the tournament, since an at-large berth would be highly unlikely.

Former coach Dave Bliss and assistant Doug Ash have been banned for 10 and five years respectively. If in the unlikely event some school somewhere would hire either of them, they must appear before the NCAA and explain themselves.

I doubt even my alma mater -- Queens College in beautiful Flushing, N.Y. -- would take a chance on either of them.

While what the NCAA has handed down to Baylor was bad, it's not quite what the SMU football team got in the 1980s, it's still bad. This will give time for Baylor to repair itself.

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

Brown-out

I was disappointed. I fully expected Larry Brown to tell Stuart "DJ Stewie Stew" Scott of ESPN he was leaving the Pistons to take the job as Cleveland Cavaliers president.

Instead, all we found out was Brown would be entering the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minn., for three days after the June 28 NBA Draft.

Given his recent health issues, including a hip replacement, and his wanderlust, I'm guessing this Brown's last game for now. At least that was was he sounded like after the Pistons' 81-74 loss to San Antonio Thursday night in Game 7 of the NBA Finals.

"I'm way ahead of the curve -- no matter what happens,'' Brown said in an interview with The Associated Press. "This game has given me so much that I'm one of the luckiest guys in the world.''

Either than, or he'll end up in New York with the Knicks.

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

Even Iron rusts

To my legions of fans ... ok, all one of you ... I apologize for the delay, but with the move from Connecticut to Virginia, and starting the new job, its been pretty hectic and all sorts of crazy.

So without any further delay ...

Back in the 1980s when Mike Tyson used to enter the ring, you got the sense only one boxer was coming out alive. I'm not talking about the Tyson with the tattooed face.

Or the convicted rapist.

Or the man who decided to dine on Evander Holyfield's ear.

I'm talking about Iron Mike Tyson, the boxer who would come into the ring -- black shorts, black shoes, no socks, white towel framing most of his face -- with three things on his mind.

Destroy his opponent. Make him hurt. Make him remember the hurt.

So how sad was it to see Mike Tyson -- no long Iron Mike -- sitting on a stool, unwilling to come out for the seventh round against an honest-to-God tomato can named Kevin McBride (6'6" and 271 pounds notwithstanding)?

Somehow, given the way his professional and personal lives spiraled out of control, this was not that much of a surprise.

I did not watch the fight. I am not a boxing fan and there was no way I was going to drop $44.95 to watch this mess, regardless of the fact that it was Tyson. I think those who laid out the cash wanted to see an emotional train wreck.

What was he going to do? Kick McBride? Gnaw on him? Try to kill him -- literally?

Instead, viewers saw a shell of a man. A man whose life has backslid badly from the moment his best friend and trainer Cus D'Amato died.

Tyson will be back -- I'm guessing in a year, maybe 18 months. By then, will anyone really care?

One more thing -- Michael Jackson? Obviously all that surgery included an infusion of Teflon. There is no doubt in my mind he has done something not completely kosher to a child.

And for the second time, he got away with it.

His time will come, pardon the pun. Wait and see.

So, what do you think? I'd like to know.