Just watched the final episodes of the 2004 World Series...and why the hell did ESPN show an abbreviated version of episode 9 at 8:10 and then re-show it at 9? I friggin' taped the 8:10 show and thought that there was another episode in between...so now I have to re-record it later this week. Idiots.
Speaking of idiots, I watched about 17 seconds of "Dream Job". Who the hell wants to watch a bunch of talking heads who can't talk talk about sports events you already know the scores of? Then they have to sit there and let nonentities like the short girl from "Cold Pizza" critique their delivery. You get these morons who say things like, "I was born for this job!". Really, you were put on this earth to read off a telepromtper while wearing a suit? Reaching for the stars.
Dan Patrick, to his credit, has criticized the "Dream Job" show because it gives a plum job in sports journalism to some yutz who just walked in off the street, while there are hundreds if not thousands of hardworking reporters working their way up the way he did--slaving away at college radio stations, covering high school sports, interviewing snot-nosed kids and putting together a 30-second bit for broadcast on their local TV stations. A bit more work than having a boorish personality and manageable hair.
Oh, maybe I should talk about the actual poker ESPN televised? How easy was it to root for Greg Raymer? An obviously talented player who showed class when he won, class when he got lucky, class when he got beat. The best line of the WSOP came when Raymer lost a huge pot when a guy hit his 2-outer on the river to stay alive. The other guy was justifiably celebrating, and Josh Arieh made a comment about it being a tough beat. Raymer paused and said, "I can't complain...that's the first time I've really been sucked out on in 4 days". Admitting that he'd gotten lucky up to that point, accepting that he couldn't expect to stay that lucky the whole tournament, ready to play the next hand with his focus intact. I knew he won and I was still nervous when he was in a big hand. Great job, Fossilman.
Josh Arieh had some rough luck as the players dwindled, but some of his behavior was kinda bizarre. He kept belittling other players for what he considered terrible all-in bets (when Harry Demitriou went in with AJ, when David Williams bet it all with pocket 5s), but both times Arieh called with the worse hand. Arieh had the worst of it pre-flop and after the flop, and yet when the other guy pushed in all his chips, and Arieh called, Arieh thought the other guy made the bonehead play. I didn't understand it. He was pissed when Matt Dean went all in with pocket jacks...what hand was he supposed to wait for? I can see Josh thinking it a bit of a gamble, but certainly not off-the-charts. I read Paul Phillips' blog and he mentioned that Arieh posted something on 2+2 apologizing for his comments after he beat Demitriou, so that's a mark in his favor. Plus, and I may be in the minority here, I really liked those crazy striped shirts he wore. I don't think I could pull one of them off, but they had a style to them. Looked comfortable too.
Paul Phillips also had a great line about Mike "The Mouth" Matusow. He said that The Mouth doesn't really mean anything by his constant patter, that if he didn't talk nonstop "he'd probably dissolve".
I'm going to make an obvious point--can anyone else watch Marcel Luske and not think of Goldmember? I'll admit that I didn't know what a Dutch accent sounded like before the last Austin Powers flick, but Mike Myers had it down pat.
I read a movie review once that identified the excellent actor William H. Macy as "the whitest man in the world". I think that Dan Harrington gives Macy some serious competition. I'm a big fan of Action Dan, but he's several different shades of gray. Light gray. Someone should tell him that wearing a pale gray-blue T-shirt is not the best color scheme for him. Everytime they showed him during a hand I started messing with the brightness feature on my TV--and then that green baseball cap flared like a supernova.
OK, think its time for bed. Oh, but in keeping with the spirit of my last post, got a haircut today. At Tony, my regular barber. And yes, I've been going to a regular barber for the last five years or so, not to some trendy salon with pink and green neon everywhere. I think it was Roberto who mentioned he used to get his hair cut at a shop next to the pizza joint where he worked...and there's a pizza joint right next to Tony's. Well, over the years there have been about 29 pizza joints there. A new sign goes up, they print menus, they're open for business for about six weeks, and they go belly up. Awhile back I asked Tony about his next-door neighbors and he shook his head in disbelief. "Don't they know that a dozen pizza places have failed there already? What possesses these people to keep trying?" My brother lives a block away from Tony's shop, and he usually tries those new places when the pop up just to see if someone inspired has taken up the ovens. He's usually disappointed. The location is absolutely awful (its well off the main drag of the town) and there are already 197 pizza joints in Bellevue. There's no need for another pizzaria. Maybe a brasserie featuring authentic French workingman's fare, a martini bar, a Thai takeout place. But, for God's sake, the spot is a deathtrap for pizza. Tony seems to do a brisk business though. And, just so you know, I look totally fabulous.
Except for the fact that I got poison ivy working in my yard and much of my body is a seething canvas of inflamed, blotchy skin. It's not been a good year for me working outside--got bit by a spider, four days in the hospital, leg oozing and weeping and disgusting. Get poison ivy, get a shot in the ass (great way to start a Friday morning, dropping your slacks and bending over a table) and still look like someone who should be in a Biohazard 4 containment unit. Hope its a friggin' harsh winter, teach those bugs and plants who's boss.
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