An Open Letter To The Guy Who Is Making Eye Contact With Me On The Subway Platform
Dear guy who is making eye contact with me on the subway platform,
Stop it. You’re creeping me out.
It’s about 10:30 in the morning. We are both waiting for a downtown train at the 53rd and Lex E train station. You are looking at me. Intently. I made the mistake of glancing in your direction and our eyes locked. I quickly looked away, but I can still feel your eyes locked on mine.
At first, I thought maybe I knew you. Why else would you make eye contact with me? It’s not like someone does that to a complete stranger for more than a couple of seconds. And so, I was forced to look at you to see if your face rang any bells. It did not. NO BELLS.
You’re just some guy with a beard and a sport coat who is standing next to me and staring.
At this point, I feel like I should acknowledge the double standard. If you were anyone else, your piercing eyes wouldn’t be causing me any consternation. If you were a woman, I would smile at you. If you were a child, I might make a funny face. If you were an obvious out of towner, I might even engage you in conversation and ask if you need any help finding your destination. If you were an elderly person, I would look away, but not in derision. Instead, I would look away because your wrinkled features and sad eyes would make me reflect on my own life and fleeting mortality.
You are none of these things. You are just some guy who is looking at me.
STOP LOOKING AT ME, GUY!!
I enjoyed the “Dream Team” documentary on NBATV. I really liked Jack McCallum’s book of the same name. I think I would love the film, “The Other Dream Team,” which is about the 1992 Lithuanian Olympic Men’s Basketball team. Luke Wynn’s feature provides just enough information to get me interested but stops short of ruining the details of the movie. That’s no small feat. I’m currently reading “Telegraph Avenue” by Michael Chabon. I also just read an interview with Chabon in New York Magazine. I should say I tried to read the interview. I had to stop because the author kept ruining the story by pointing out examples of Chabon’s writing style.
Speed by Tim Layden
So, this entire issue is dedicated to the concept of speed. Or at least that’s what the magazine claims. Sports Illustrated has been using guest managing editors in the past few weeks because the current job holder, Terry McDonnell, is stepping down. My guess is that whoever is filling in this week decided to use the conceit of a theme to set themselves apart from the other applicants. But it seems like that decision wasn’t made until all the articles were already written and the person extrapolated a theme.
Also… speed? It’s sports. Every issue of Sports Illustrated is about speed. It’s the defining characteristic of athletes. Will next week’s theme be “strength?”
Revenge Of The Base Stealers by Albert Chen
Chen writes about the reemergence of base stealers in the major leagues. I’m far more interested in Reds prospect Billy Hamilton, who stole 155 bases in the minors this year. I love the fact that I’ve never seen him play. Instead, I just heard drips and drabs on the internet or buried in newspaper baseball columns. It’s somewhat refreshing in this day and age to have that degree of mystery still exist.
Can’t Touch Dat by Lee Jenkins
I took two things away from Jenkins profile of Oregon football player De’Anthony Thomas.
1) I’m not sure where I stand on Snoop Dogg. Part of me is irritated by the fact that he’s become a cliche of what he once actually was and tries to be gangsta while sitting with Donald Trump or Dan Patrick. But, on the other hand, I’m incredibly impressed and touched by the fact that he’s set up this football league for kids in need.
2) This is an article about a guy who plays at Oregon. It also includes quite a bit about USC recruiting director Ed Oregano. That is confusing.
Chasing Velocity by Lars Anderson
Carburator! Spark Plug! Internal combustion engine!
Calm Amid The Chaos by Tim Layden
This is where the whole “Speed” thing falls apart. Jeff Saturday is not fast. He’s an old offensive lineman. Sports Illustrated wants me to believe that he’s mentally quick. That might be the case. This profile didn’t do anything to prove it though.
Point After by Phil Taylor
Taylor writes about the knuckleball. Ok.