The phone rang Friday night at around 7:30.
“Can I call you back?” I said, “I’ve got stuff cooking on three different surfaces right now.”
To my friend, it sounded like I was cooking a very involved, very mature dinner, while using multiple ranges on my stove. The truth, though, was that my stove wasn’t even on. The three surfaces I was “cooking” on were a George Foreman grill, a toaster oven and a microwave. And a few minutes later, my hot dogs were ready to eat.
Outwardly, I am a functioning adult. I have a good job and a nice place to live. I am a fully grown human. This all masks a sad truth. I am, in many ways, still a child.
It’s customary, when welcoming guests to your home, to offer some refreshments. A normal adult would put out a plate of cheese and crackers or offer a glass of wine. I could do none of that. I have no cheese. I have no crackers. More importantly, I don’t own a platter on which to serve cheese and crackers, nor do I have that little cheese slicer thing that people use to serve their sharp cheddars and goudas. Also, I don’t know how to work a cork screw.
I also couldn’t set a place for you at the table either. I don’t have placemats. More to the point, though, I don’t know where one goes to purchase a placemat or placemats. Also, I don’t have a table.
They say childhood is fleeting, but immaturity lasts forever. In many ways, I think I’m proving that axiom.
AFTER THE JUMP: JUSTIN IMAGINES A LARGE OLDER GENTLEMAN DOING DIRTY THINGS TO HIMSELF.
I haven’t yet had a chance to comment on Sports Illustrated’s decision to redesign the “Inside..” section. I like it a lot. The format hasn’t really changed as much as the layout. And the new design flows better than it did before. So, good job.
That being said, there is no reason to end this week’s “Inside..” section with back to back pages on marathoning and women’s soccer.
Happy Birthday Champ by Richard O’Brien
Is Muhammad Ali the most photographed individual in history? And, by photographed, I mean an image captured by professional photographers looking to create art. Not paparazzi snapping a thousand digital shots of Lindsay Lohan getting out of a car just in case her vag slips out. I think he must be. And every shot is a classic.
Alex Smith. Really? Really. by Jim Trotter
Jim Trotter makes the case that Alex Smith is super tough, because he was able to withstand years and years of being told how terrible he is. That may be the case. But, his family is a bunch of whiny pussies.
Eli, As In Elite by Damon Hack
In a similar vain, Eli Manning is a 31 year old man. At what point will his father stop speaking for him? Give it a rest Archie. (Ed. Note: I love Eli!)
A Tight End One-Two Punch by Peter King
I was excited to read this article. Judging by the headline, I expected it to be a relatively in depth profile of two new stars on the football scene, Rob Gronkowski and Aaron Hernandez. Instead, it was another tired hagiography of Tom Brady and Bill Belichick. In fact, listen closely while you’re reading. You can actually hear Peter King’s hand rhythmically slapping against his own testicles as he pleasures himself to the idea of the “Patriot Way.”
The Hour Grows Late by Ben Reiter
I got this text message from John this week:
Just think how many people won’t die at the Super Bowl if Ray Lewis doesn’t have down time because he is actually playing in the game.
It’s as good a reason as any to root for the Ravens over the Pats in an AFC Championship game with no good guys.
Driving For Home by L. Jon Wertheim
This is a great profile. Wertheim picks an interesting subject and writes the hell out of the story. If you only read one piece in this week’s magazine, this is the one to pick.
The Puck Stops Where? by Michael Farber
Last Sunday morning, I was watching TSN while getting dressed in my Montreal hotel room. Canada’s equivalent of ESPN airs a show called “The Reporters,” which is the Canadian version of “The Sports Reporters.” Michael Farber was on the panel.
Ole! by Lee Jenkins
As far as I can tell, my Macbook Pro is incapable of doing the upside down exclamation point that belongs at the beginning of this headline. Ricky Rubio’s been fun to watch so far this season. It’s not his behind the back passes that make him stand out, though they are very impressive. What’s great about Rubio is that his chest and bounce passes are amazing. He sees openings that no one else sees. If you haven’t had a chance to watch the T’Wolves yet this season, please do so.
Point After by Phil Taylor
ENOUGH WITH TEBOW! JESUS!