Hump day thoughts

Curse, thy name is Nomar. Of course, waking up next to the smooth, taut skin of Mia Hamm may seem very un-curse-like, but what other explanation fits? The Red Sox dump their malcontent All-Star batting champion midseason, and are now one victory from ending an 86-year drought. Chemistry DOES count.

There’s no doubt in my mind that my second place finish in WPBT V (or IV, there seems to be some disagreement) was a fluke, an aberration, a one-hit wonder. My online play since the tournament has been mediocre at best, horrifying at worst. I haven’t WON any SnGs, and placed in less than a quarter. Do the math, I’m losing money. Perhaps my game is better suited to the blogger environment, where raises are respected and the HAMMER is considered worth three-betting.

Come to think of it, I finished in the top-20 in both blogger tourneys I’ve played in (18th and 2nd). Hmmm, I don’t have the full standings from the Monty Memorial. Can anyone else match that?

My computer/cable modem went down right after I registered for a $16 20-seater. Sigh. The funny thing is that I beat eight people by not being there. Imagine that! I was two seats from making the final table by posting blinds and folding. Ridiculous. No telling if my current level of play would have improved on that…. Probably not.

FFL Note: Ahhh, I finally won a game, despite the Todd injury curse. Of course, since Kevan Barlow had a bye, I picked up a running back for one week… Mike Alstott, who found that knees can bend in more than one direction. Predictable. Negative points for the fumble too. So, to recap, I pick up Rich Gannon for a week… broken neck. I pick up Mike Alstott for a week… twisted knee. I draft Deuce with my first pick, he misses multiple weeks with a sprained ankle. Sheesh.

Speaking of Boston… you shouldn’t be allowed to riot if you were born after 1978. At best, you were seven or eight when the ball rolled through Buckner, you likely never saw Bucky Freakin’ Dent, you didn’t see Fisk’s ball hit the foul pole. Attention, Boston area college students: You don’t know dick about the curse! You weren’t even freakin’ born for most of the Red Sox collapses! Don’t do stupid shit like overturn cars or start bonfires, you haven’t EARNED it! Fat, drunk, and stupid is no way to go through life.

BTW, it’s like Jose Oquendo and Dale Sveum have a side bet to see who can get more runners thrown out at the plate. Bah, I’ve hated Oquendo since 1987. If you don’t know, it has to do with the NLCS, John Tudor, Candy Maldonado, and Atlee Hammaker.