Da (Bears) Draft!

So, according to my blog (this very, exceptionally entertaining website), I haven't posted an entry since April 5th. Where do I get off? Who do I think I am, tOSU's very own Mark Titus? What? I can just go away for weeks at a time and leave my legions of fans alone in the dark, curled up in the fetal position, telling themselves every thing's gonna be all right, while I laugh all day long and come up with ideas for sweet new food inventions (General Tso's flavored ice cream)!!?? Hell no, I can't do that. I wouldn't even want to do that to my precious Hambino Hounds, so even though it is currently 1:48am, it's time for me to right this ship.

Last a couple days ago (that is a real measurement of time), the NFL Draft happened. It happened. The much-hyped event was moved to Thursday, Friday and Saturday for the first time ever. For the record, I was totally against this change (it used to be a Saturday/Sunday event) but I accepted it because, the times they are a changin'. The draft is billed as this huge event and if your favorite team doesn't draft the right player, I think you're supposed to jump in front of a train or something. The draft isn't completely overhyped, however, a team can really propel itself into contention with a great pick, or ruin itself with a bad pick, see JaMarcus Russell. I'm not sure if that M in JaMarcus is capitol or not, I think it looks cool though. HaM SchMitMeyer. Anyways, I mostly tend to think the draft is overrated because you really don't know if your team had a good draft until about 3 years later, and for my favorite team, the Browns, it's rarely worth the wait. So what does the draft mean? I don't know.

I can tell you what it used to mean.

It used to mean that I would be attending some kind of party in the afternoon with a bunch of dudes who really like the NFL. It used to mean that my friends and I would be able to enjoy a responsible amount (of course) of adult beverages, since it was a Saturday, and celebrate every amazing pick the Browns had made (we got Brady Quinn like, 27th overall, can you believe it??!!!!). It also meant that we would rename our beverages in honor of our favorite pick and order them by their new name when we eventually hit the bars. It took a while, but the drink slingers eventually learned what a Joe Thomas was. It used to mean that I would assume the greatest alias ever created, "Magnus Samuelsson" for an annual cornhole tournament, in which I was always quickly ousted. It also used to mean that my friend "Rocketship Ron" would perform some of his brilliant, completely original animal sounds, with the highlight always being the legendary, "hedgehog." It gives me chill bumps just to think about it.

This year was a little different. Without the compliment of steady drinking, I made a "sobering" (uh oh, nailed it!!) realization; the draft is really boring. The most exciting part of the draft this year was seeing Tim "Citizen Snips" Tebow get drafted by the Broncos (Maurice Clarett will be released from the clink soon, BTW) in the first round. It was utterly shocking for me to see Tim Tebow go when he did because Tony Robbins was still on the board. I had Tony rated as my number 1 motivational speaker and Tebow #2, followed by this guy at number #3. Much to my surprise, Tony Robbins didn't even get drafted.

I think the second most surprising thing in this draft was Mel's hair. Mel Kiper Jr. is all about preparing for the future. He is going to be the first person to ever lose their hair, purchase a toupee and have it actually look more attractive than his natural hair. What is he trying to do with that look? It's so bad I can't even figure out how to make fun of it properly. It looks like it smells bad; that's all I got..

Man, I usually think of myself as a nice guy but here I am, making fun of Tim Tebow for being a man of faith and torching Mel Kiper Jr. for having hair that looks similar to an upside down bowl that Ace Ventura ate out of which was made of bat dung.

Well, I was sort of planning on actually talking about some of the picks made in the draft but I want to keep this concise so you'll have time to do other things like, read Bill Simmons' and Mark Titus' blogs, which are literary marathons, and also wildly entertaining. I think that may have to wait for a later date. It may be the same date, just a later time I guess, but what am I psychic? No I'm not psychic, I'm just a regular guy who likes to drink Joe Thomas's and dream of a world where I can eat General Tso's and ice cream on one plate. It is now 2:48, which means I've been working on this for one hour. I better get to bed, Charmed starts in 5 hours and 12 minutes. GET SPELLBOUND!

Sports/Story

SPORTS

Today is kind of a big day for sports, especially if you like college basketball. If you're like me, you really couldn't care less about the National Championship tonight and you probably haven't watched more the five minutes of the NCAA tourney since the Buckeyes were ousted. If you're like me, you watched the Reds be less-than-dominant today and you still basically loved it. And if you're like me, you still haven't showered today. Actually, you'd be exactly like me, not similar to me, if this were all true of you.

The mens NCAA tourney is the greatest sporting event in the country, I think. The first two rounds of the tourney features 49 games, out of which, about 10 are absolutely incredible. After the first two rounds are completed, I find myself watching stuff like, "Modern Family," instead of tuning in for the subsequent games. Over the past few years this tourney has gone overwhelmingly "chalk" (meaning the favorites have advanced), which sucks for people who love to root for the underdog, but is great for people who like to watch the most talented teams in the finals. Sure, I used to cheer for the underdog, I get it, it creates captivating stories, but as I become older, fatter and marginally wiser, I hate underdogs. Five years ago, I may have went out and bought a Butler T-shirt for the game tonight. Probably not, I bet I was drunk five years ago today, but you get my point, I don't like underdogs anymore. Wouldn't it be much more exciting to see the talent of Kansas vs. Duke squaring off tonight? What about Player of the year, Evan Turner taking on Kentucky and future NBA star Johnny Wall?

I'm not saying that I don't want Butler in the championship because they'll get blown out. I just think that so called, "underdogs" (Butler was preseason #11 or 12) making appearances in the Championship prevents a more exciting matchup. If you're watching the game tonight, try to notice (it shouldn't be real difficult) how many white people are playing and ask yourself, "is this a country music video shoot, or the best two teams in college basketball?" Say what you want about the NCAAF postseason system, but at least we almost always get two national powerhouses whose rosters are filled with future NFL players in the championship.

I also have never really understood the national hatred for Duke. Why am I supposed to hate a bunch of smart players who perform in the classroom as well as on the basketball court? Why should I disapprove of a team whose members will go on to benefit society?

STORY

I once knew a guy named Larry.

Yeah, that was it, Larry, not Terry.

And he was also very hairy

Did I even mention his allergy to dairy?

One day, down by a bog,

Larry decided to go for a jog.

While listening to music he completely zoned out

And became unaware of his whereabouts.

Larry tripped over a log

And called for his dog,

"Owie, owie, please come here, Callie!"

Much to Larry's dismay,

Callie did not obey.

Larry sat up and looked down at his leg,

The memory of what he saw will never be vague.

Out through the skin did stick his bone,

and he muttered under his breath, "that stupid dog is probably still at home."

The sun began to set and it grew dark,

Larry grabbed two stones to try to make a spark.

You see, Larry lived in Canada and he was becoming more than chilly,

And we all know what the cold does to a man's willy.

Beyond that, Larry was losing feeling in his fingers and toes

and he began to wonder how long until he froze.

Larry thought about his absent dog and his anger began to stew.

"Man's best friend? Well, that's just simply not true."

Larry remembered Lassie saving Timmy when he fell in a well,

But where his dog Callie was, there was no way he could tell.

He decided to give it one more try so he started to shout,

"Callie, Callie, come on out."

Larry, in immense pain, sat and he waited,

The last bit of daylight had already faded.

Frozen and unable to move, Larry had nearly given up hope

When Callie finally emerged he thought, "Can I believe this? Nope!"

Oh Callie, I'm glad you finally came!

I guess you heard me saying your name.

Just then, a look of evil came over Larry's face,

Bone out of his leg, he might be confined to this space.

Larry wielded his pocket-knife, turned and said,

"In this cold, Callie, I'll surely be dead.

You've been a great dog and I hope you don't mind,

but you see, Callie, I really need your hide."

Larry stabbed his dog and she began to yelp,

"Shh, Callie, no one will answer your cry for help."