Hating Sports

Ever have one of those days where something normally calming, entertaining and otherwise mentally-pleasing becomes altogether unpalatable? Welcome to my today — and sports.

Generally speaking, I can’t get enough of this whole sports thing. Grown men running after fly balls, hurling passes and shooting baskets, whacking around a puck. Sign me up. Fill up the calendar. I get quite wrapped up in it all, yes. But once in a long while, it gets downright tiresome.

This morning: the good. Coach Hunter. IUPUI. You can’t not love a story like this. This evening: the bad. Has the love affair with Manny Ramirez finally come to an end in Boston? Favre officially faxes in reinstatement letter, the plot thickens. Artest traded to another team. Donaghy sentenced.

Really?? Who f-in cares!!? About any of it! That’s how I’m feeling about sports today. It’s simply exhausting and seems to carry a weight of even less feigned importance than usual for me. If I hear the phrase Manny being Manny one more time I might lose it. Similarly on Favre, enough is enough. You know a sports story is disproportionately out of control when you overhear people next to you in a restaurant (who know nothing about football) discussing the “story” and all its various angles. And why again are we again pretending like Ron Artest is so relevant that he deserves a breaking news box on ESPN.com? Pray tell.

Then you look around a bit more and it’s T.O…tires at the Brickyard…second-tier NBA players heading to Europe…and whether Jose Guillen does or does not want out of Kansas City? Ugh. WHO. FREAKING. CARES. And so what if crazy Guillen wants out of KC. Who wouldn’t? Oh yes, and apparently Mark Texiera is the Messiah for any MLB team these days looking for that elusive final piece. Guess I wasn’t cc’d on the memo.

Alright, enough random ramblings. Clearly, I have nothing I care enough to dedicate any real brain power towards this evening.

I’ll maybe come back in a day or so. Erie’s Scribe will be stepping in and bringing heat. Perhaps by the end of the week I’ll be inspired to talk about just how wrong I was about Carlos Delgado (right, like I was the only one).