Having yet to contribute something to the buzzer, I’ve decided to make my debut. I couldn’t think of anything to write about, until the Bobby Abreu trade. It just conjured up some angst, or rather; discontent I had with sports these days.

 

1. The New York Yankees wheeling and dealing.

           It bothers me that the Yankees are involved in every damn trade rumor, for every big name player. You know every year that the Yanks will go out there and get the biggest name available, even if they don’t need him.  Granted, they needed Abreu, but whatever happened to loyalty? If I were Sheffield, I’d be pissed. I mean, they basically gave up on him, because he didn’t heal quickly enough, and he most certainly won’t be coming back next year with Abreu on the team. The team before Abreu was doing just fine, they seemed to be picking up the slack, and finally gelling, but now it’s just a new guy to add to the equation.

 

2. Floyd Landis: Who gives a shit?

              The fact that Floyd Landis was found with an unnatural amount of the ratio of testosterone to epitestosterone doesn’t surprise me at all. First off, cycling is a dirty sport, dirtier than track and field, and dirtier than that really popular girl in your grade. This a sport that had about half the field disqualified before the race even started. Quite frankly (that’s all you need), cycling never really grabbed my attention (partly because I thought Lance Armstrong was a pretentious bitch) and now that these guys are doing more drugs than the Cincinnati Bengals, I can’t watch it.  It’s too tainted, there not one speck of honesty in the sport. If the test results come back saying Landis is cleared, it doesn’t mean anything. If cycling knew what was good for them, they would have kept this thing under wraps until they had tested the infamous “B sample”. Look at the way baseball was treated when allegations came out, the court of public opinion laid down their verdict pretty quickly. Keep the thing out of the hands of the media until you know for sure, but no, they didn’t, and now cycling is officially dead.

 

3. Cold Pizza is the worst excuse for a show…EVER

             I remember about two summers ago when I heard that there was going to be a new show on ESPN, which was a blend of news and sports. The idea seemed good, so I watched the first show, and wanted to immediately terminate my life.  Jay Crawford could be the, no no no, IS, the worst host ever. All-Time worst host ever. He is so boring, and lame, and you can just tell he knows nothing about sports. He is definitely more of a news anchor-esque kind of guy. Jay, channel 7 in Burlington called, they want you and your horrible clichés back. Not the guests are always shitty WNBA players (hey, no one likes the WNBA), and guys who can ride unicycles, or people who can eat a lot of food (for example, Eric “Badlands” Booker). The best though is when they have music guests. Jay tries to act like he knows all these rock bands, and you can tell he really listens to soft nineties contemporary adult music. Sorry Cold Pizza, you are a joke.

 

4. Sorry top 10, a diving catch isn’t doing it for me anymore.

             Everyday I wake up at about 9:30, which is usually enough time for me to pee, pour me some Cap’n Crunch, and turn on SportCenter, just as the top 10 is starting. Here’s how it usually goes. Ten through six are some corner outfielder for the Brew Crew, or the Royals, or some team like that, running across center field sprawling out making a catch. Five is a diving catch by Andruw Jones, ALWAYS. Four is usually a nice double play, off of a hard hit ball. Three is most likely going to be a nice barehanded play at third, with a rifle of a throw to first, most likely by Melvin Mora, or Scott Rolen, if the aforementioned Mora doesn’t have a game that night. Now two will usually be where they’ll put the great play that you don’t see every night, which is usually the highlight of my top ten viewing. They usually should be number one, but its not. (Drum roll) Number one is awful. It’s usually some David Ortiz walk off home run and/or Melky Cabrera hitting a game winning double. If neither of those occur, that means the Yankees and the Sox both had nights off, and they’ll show some milestone. I have no problem with milestones, just that Barry Bonds 400^th double, or his 721^st home run aren’t milestones. If that doesn’t happen, water skiing squirrel my friends.

 

5.Reggie Bush, please sign sometime this year.

              Reggie Bush is a good player, and he probably would have been taken number one, if there weren’t a genius in the front office of the Texans named Charlie Casserly. Hey Chucky, I love the move. I’m not that high on Bush either, but you lost your job because of it. Anyways, the Saints got everything they wanted. They got pwned by a hurricane, and they got Reggie Bush. Reggie is a beacon of hope to the city, which is sad, but true unfortunately. So sign! Don’t hold out, you’re turning into one of those prima donnas. We know you want “mad cash monnnnnney” but hey, you were the second pick there ace. The last thing you want is the city to turn on you, because you’re expected to be a savior, and you wont be, your too hybrid for the league. So take the money you can get. (note: Bush signed later that week, after pressure from me and a bunch of street thugs).

 

Note: Thanks to M’arthur’s mastery of Microsoft Word, a portion of one of his physics labs ended up at the end of his column, a few pages down. Just for shits and giggles, we’re putting it in. Because we can.

 

Conclusion:

             I felt that the lab did its job in helping to study the refraction of light in glass. Everything came out with a relatively low percent error, giving us good results. Some causes of error that could have affected the results were the thickness of the pencil lines. This made it difficult in measuring some of the angles. Also the lining up of the pins through the glass proved to be a difficult task for people to pull off. This could have skewed the results.

an f-m around the horn club production©2006 (cellson cellson)