This was my submission for Week 13 in the NFL Against the Spread picks league. I'm honored to have won "Best E-mail" among such great competition. I'm also the only idiot dumb enough to think up a ton of poems...
===============================
St. Louis @ Chicago (-9.5) -- CHI
When it's Bulger or Boller to choose at QB,
that's really no winning platoon.
And along with Jay Cutler we're likely to see
At least 17 picks this afternoon.
Tampa Bay @ Carolina (-6.5) -- TB
When I heard "Of The Man" would be on the bench,
I just had to change my choice.
Compared to the Ukrainian car that's Matt Moore
Ol' Jake's a brand new Rolls Royce.
Houston @ Jacksonville (-0.5) -- JAX
Ballbuster Pick of the Week: Taking home team in the 4th game listed.
Naturally, it is also the Gus Johnson game of the week, so a pick here only seems right.
Denver (-4.5) @ Kansas City -- KC
Arrowhead's not a good place to be
When you're heading there in December.
It's like being Barnes at a New York club
And white guy dance moves are all you can remember.
Tennessee @ Indianapolis (-6.5) -- TENN
I think I would listen if Chris Johnson told me
That he had a cure for cancer.
But he says the Titans will win out with Vince
And this Sunday we'll get a better answer.
Philadelphia (-5.5) @ Atlanta -- PHILLY
The sight of Mike Vick back in ATL
Could be a bit uneasy.
But it's the thought of Andy Reid eating Southern food
That's making me feel queasy.
And if ever a coach could do that to me
It'd be Reid or Eric Mangini.
New Orleans (-9.5) @ Washington -- WAS
Whose backfield has cooler names
Than Clinton, Ladell and Rock.
But then again we haven't seen much out of them
Except head injuries and inability to block.
Oakland @ Pittsburgh (-13.5) -- PITT
The Steelers weren't Stellars last week
With Dixon under center.
Hines Ward shouldn't talk, instead he should be
Serving as Big Ben's rape case mentor.
Detroit @ Cincinnati (-13.5) -- CIN
Both of these teams considered to be cats
When Lions and Bengals play.
Which basically means they can't eat 20 wings
At Hooters on any day.
New England (-4.5) @ Miami -- NE
Billy B.'s been lookin puzzled
Quite a bit this year.
No Brady knee, no camera cheats
To blame for all the jeers.
And so the pressers will drone on
With monotony... not tears.
Dallas (-1.5) @ New York Giants -- DAL
No poem for this.
The douche deserves his custom.
Romo is homo.
San Francisco @ Seattle (-0.5) -- SF
In battles between TV cities
With the "Full House," and "Frasier" shows,
I take Uncle Jesse to have no pity
On the Cranes' suits and richy-rich glow.
San Diego (-12.5) @ Cleveland -- SD
And what do I say about this gross affair
'tween lightning bolts and chunks of poop??
There's little to say that hasn't been said
On continuous and negative loop.
So I'll just save my mind and just save my time
And assume that the Browns won't regroup.
Minnesota (-3.5) @ Arizona -- MINN
Although he may not play in this game
Kurt Warner knows much more tonight.
Tim Tebow's not God and Brett Favre's lost one too
So the prayers can continue each night.
Baltimore @ Green Bay (-3.5) -- GB
I'll be in the stadium this Monday night,
Wearing a bullet-proof vest.
But Ray Lewis used a knife to kill a man right,
So having a body guard might be the best.
Monday, January 11, 2010
Friday, January 8, 2010
The State of Wow
There haven't been any outrageous changes since the last post. But what happened to me Thursday night before I went to sleep was a moment when I had to smile and say, out loud, "Wow." And if you haven't had a chance to read my last post, "The State of Whoops," then now may be a good time to visit it because not much in this post will make sense without it. It's funny how things can at least make a little more sense if you give them a chance to do so.
I guess you could say it all started with cleaning my desk yesterday morning. Or with a random book purchase a few years back. Or with high school football. Or, I suppose, with my birth. No matter how it's sliced, we end up here, so the beginning details don't matter a ton. The following thoughts will seem scattered, but they really do all tie together, so I'll number them to easier separate.
1) My favorite number has been 25 for awhile now. It was my number in high school football, mainly because my previously favorite number, 24, wasn't available when I entered as a freshman. So I took the number one spot higher (the same number I held in junior high football) and it has been mine ever since. A lot of what I do -- screen names, passwords, lottery picks -- uses the number 25 in some way.
2) I'm not sure when I started liking poetry. I think it was at the point where I really didn't want to read literature, especially anything that was really old, mainly because it didn't speak with me (and still doesn't today, as many of my favorite books are biographies, self-help and non-fiction. aka "real stuff"). But poetry could be completely abstract and wouldn't come across as a big block of words on the page.
Instead, it was small blocks of words -- stanzas, often times open for interpretation. This is what drives many people away from poetry or prose pieces because they need a "right" answer. They need to know what exactly the author or narrator is trying to say. But I feel it's harder to write good poetry (especially when rhyming and keeping strict rhyme patterns) because everything is measured. You can't waste words.
I'm not sure when I bought, "The Best Loved Poetry of the American People," but I know I didn't spend more than $3 on it and I know that the copyright date is 1936. I also know that I've read very few of the 648 pages. I liked the book because it was split into sections of poems concerning things like: inspiration, poems that tell a story, love and friendship, childhood and youth, humor and whimsey, etc. And there are a ton of poems that make up this hardcover book. In fact, I only had one bookmarked.
3) In cleaning off my desk, I found an old small sheet of note paper with a poem on it. My Intro to Poetry class group used this poem, "Thinking About the Past," by Donald Justice, in our final project. I've been thinking about my past a lot lately, so it was weird that I finally decided to clean up, for whatever reason, and found this paper.
2.5) I replaced an old receipt marking my bookmarked poem with that note paper from my desk.
4) My favorite poem in the book doesn't matter so much in content (at least not right now) as in something I noticed for the first time Thursday night before going to sleep. It's located on page 25 of that book printed in 1936. My favorite poem in the book on the page of my favorite number. And I closed the book and got into bed for the night.
But it was too odd to leave at that. I got out of bed, turned on the light, and went to another 25 -- page 125. And in the section marked "Inspiration" I found "To the Men Who Lose" by George L. Scarborough. I'll spare you the space of typing out the entire poem, but considering myself kind of a "hard luck loser" at times, the whole thing made sense to me, especially the lines:
"The king is he who, after fierce defeat,
Can up and fight again."
I've always felt that desire, patience and persistence can combine to become a great weapon in life and these lines really re-iterated that to me.
Page 225 was a continuation, so I skipped it. But on page 325 is "Pray Without Ceasing" by Ophelia Guyton Browning. I'm going to go a little Colt McCoy on you here -- but with the belief in God part, not the blowing out my arm part. I've been praying for some guidance/answers for a long time and right when I feel like it's been a waste, I randomly find this:
"Unanswered yet? tho' when you first presented
This one petition at the Father's throne,
It seemed you could not wait the time of asking,
So anxious was your heart to have it done;
If years have passed since then, do not despair,
For God will answer you sometime, somewhere."
It was, at this point, that I said, out loud, to myself... "Wow." Call it complete coincidence, call it a sign, call it what you want -- this was something really, really weird to happen when it did. And it reminded me of a great dialogue from my favorite movie, "Rudy." The scene in the church goes:
Father Cavanaugh: Well, you did a helluva job, kid. Chasing down your dreams.
Rudy: I don't care what kind of job I did. If it doesn't produce results, it doesn't mean anything.
Fr. Cavanaugh: I think you'll discover that it will.
Rudy: Maybe I haven't prayed enough.
Fr. Cavanaugh: I'm sure that's not the problem. Praying is something we do in our time. The answers come in God's time.
Obviously the movie speeds up the process and Rudy gets accepted to Notre Dame in the next scene. But the message, at least for me, is still there. We can try all we want to control everything, and yet, there are things that just seem (or truly are) out of our control.
=====
So the overall concept here is that sometimes waiting isn't so bad. Sometimes if you turn "waiting" into "anticipating" you can keep your mind at ease, at least for a little while.
And sometimes, it pays to clean your desk if you're willing to be "wowed."
So I'll end this more upbeat post in much the same way I ended my somewhat depressing post of just a few days ago:
"If it's meant to be, it'll happen." Here's a toast to the hope that the best lies ahead in 2010 -- the year in which I turn 25 years old.
-----
Cited in this post:
"The Best Loved Poems of the American People." Selected by Hazel Felleman. New York: Doubleday & Company, Inc., 1936.
"Rudy." David Anspaugh, dir. Robert N. Fried, prod. Cary Woods, prod. DVD. Tri-Star, 1993.
I guess you could say it all started with cleaning my desk yesterday morning. Or with a random book purchase a few years back. Or with high school football. Or, I suppose, with my birth. No matter how it's sliced, we end up here, so the beginning details don't matter a ton. The following thoughts will seem scattered, but they really do all tie together, so I'll number them to easier separate.
1) My favorite number has been 25 for awhile now. It was my number in high school football, mainly because my previously favorite number, 24, wasn't available when I entered as a freshman. So I took the number one spot higher (the same number I held in junior high football) and it has been mine ever since. A lot of what I do -- screen names, passwords, lottery picks -- uses the number 25 in some way.
2) I'm not sure when I started liking poetry. I think it was at the point where I really didn't want to read literature, especially anything that was really old, mainly because it didn't speak with me (and still doesn't today, as many of my favorite books are biographies, self-help and non-fiction. aka "real stuff"). But poetry could be completely abstract and wouldn't come across as a big block of words on the page.
Instead, it was small blocks of words -- stanzas, often times open for interpretation. This is what drives many people away from poetry or prose pieces because they need a "right" answer. They need to know what exactly the author or narrator is trying to say. But I feel it's harder to write good poetry (especially when rhyming and keeping strict rhyme patterns) because everything is measured. You can't waste words.
I'm not sure when I bought, "The Best Loved Poetry of the American People," but I know I didn't spend more than $3 on it and I know that the copyright date is 1936. I also know that I've read very few of the 648 pages. I liked the book because it was split into sections of poems concerning things like: inspiration, poems that tell a story, love and friendship, childhood and youth, humor and whimsey, etc. And there are a ton of poems that make up this hardcover book. In fact, I only had one bookmarked.
3) In cleaning off my desk, I found an old small sheet of note paper with a poem on it. My Intro to Poetry class group used this poem, "Thinking About the Past," by Donald Justice, in our final project. I've been thinking about my past a lot lately, so it was weird that I finally decided to clean up, for whatever reason, and found this paper.
2.5) I replaced an old receipt marking my bookmarked poem with that note paper from my desk.
4) My favorite poem in the book doesn't matter so much in content (at least not right now) as in something I noticed for the first time Thursday night before going to sleep. It's located on page 25 of that book printed in 1936. My favorite poem in the book on the page of my favorite number. And I closed the book and got into bed for the night.
But it was too odd to leave at that. I got out of bed, turned on the light, and went to another 25 -- page 125. And in the section marked "Inspiration" I found "To the Men Who Lose" by George L. Scarborough. I'll spare you the space of typing out the entire poem, but considering myself kind of a "hard luck loser" at times, the whole thing made sense to me, especially the lines:
"The king is he who, after fierce defeat,
Can up and fight again."
I've always felt that desire, patience and persistence can combine to become a great weapon in life and these lines really re-iterated that to me.
Page 225 was a continuation, so I skipped it. But on page 325 is "Pray Without Ceasing" by Ophelia Guyton Browning. I'm going to go a little Colt McCoy on you here -- but with the belief in God part, not the blowing out my arm part. I've been praying for some guidance/answers for a long time and right when I feel like it's been a waste, I randomly find this:
"Unanswered yet? tho' when you first presented
This one petition at the Father's throne,
It seemed you could not wait the time of asking,
So anxious was your heart to have it done;
If years have passed since then, do not despair,
For God will answer you sometime, somewhere."
It was, at this point, that I said, out loud, to myself... "Wow." Call it complete coincidence, call it a sign, call it what you want -- this was something really, really weird to happen when it did. And it reminded me of a great dialogue from my favorite movie, "Rudy." The scene in the church goes:
Father Cavanaugh: Well, you did a helluva job, kid. Chasing down your dreams.
Rudy: I don't care what kind of job I did. If it doesn't produce results, it doesn't mean anything.
Fr. Cavanaugh: I think you'll discover that it will.
Rudy: Maybe I haven't prayed enough.
Fr. Cavanaugh: I'm sure that's not the problem. Praying is something we do in our time. The answers come in God's time.
Obviously the movie speeds up the process and Rudy gets accepted to Notre Dame in the next scene. But the message, at least for me, is still there. We can try all we want to control everything, and yet, there are things that just seem (or truly are) out of our control.
=====
So the overall concept here is that sometimes waiting isn't so bad. Sometimes if you turn "waiting" into "anticipating" you can keep your mind at ease, at least for a little while.
And sometimes, it pays to clean your desk if you're willing to be "wowed."
So I'll end this more upbeat post in much the same way I ended my somewhat depressing post of just a few days ago:
"If it's meant to be, it'll happen." Here's a toast to the hope that the best lies ahead in 2010 -- the year in which I turn 25 years old.
-----
Cited in this post:
"The Best Loved Poems of the American People." Selected by Hazel Felleman. New York: Doubleday & Company, Inc., 1936.
"Rudy." David Anspaugh, dir. Robert N. Fried, prod. Cary Woods, prod. DVD. Tri-Star, 1993.
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
The State of Whoops
You either think it or you don't -- the sentiment that "if it's meant to be, it'll happen." I'm a believer, but not because it's easy to be one. In fact, 2009 was a year that tested my belief in that theory probably more than any year before it.
"A man's doubts and fears are his worst enemies." Or, you could say, a man must continue on with his life and what he's doing. I find it interesting that this quote comes from William Wrigley Jr., a name made famous by chewing gum. When you chew gum, it's usually the one constant in what you're doing. And it doesn't really matter what emotions you're feeling -- you can chew gum when you're happy, sad, angry, or whatever. But no matter what's going on around you, you know how to chew it.
Almost exactly one year ago, I sat in the freezing cold bedroom of my apartment wondering what the year had in store. I was starting my path towards something new. Job applications were going left and right. My research into education programs was just beginning and I was prepared to start everything up again.
Instead, I spent a 365 days building up and tearing down as another job application was denied, either for inexperience or for lack of degree or for lack of employment available. Sometimes it was worse, building up for a job for which I applied, then never hearing any response, as if being thrown out of a plane with no parachute, knowing it was a lost cause at the end, but not knowing when the end would be. In the end, as I looked back at 2009, it was a lot failure, plain and simple. Or as I've recently been prone to describe my life, "It's in a state of 'whoops.'"
"If it's meant to be, it'll happen." And if it's not meant to be, it won't. So in theory I should be happy to have found so many opportunities that were not meant to happen. In theory I should be glad to know that there are other options, other people, other things that are perfect for Kevin Hunt.
But then there's the resounding theme heard shortly after my wrestling career ended: "If he just had one more year." I won just one match at the District Tournament, but that one win secured me a winning season record at 18-17. I met the goal set out by my coaches and me at the beginning of the year, but there was a certain flavor of disappointment lingering. It was described in the season-ending banquet as, "If he had just one more year."
Head Coach Matt Coleman said those words with the best of intentions. They spoke to my leadership and my desire to work hard every single day. What he probably didn't intend them to do was to be a constant reminder that I spent a year playing basketball that really had no point. They weren't intended to be a reminder of how I missed the first year because I didn't know any better.
They are, however, one of the things I remember most about high school. I want to be clear -- this isn't a regret. For all we know, if I come back for another year of wrestling, I get thrown onto my neck and hurt my back to the point of no repair. Even so, I know that the probability was better that I would have only gotten better with the additional year.
So what am I missing?? Is the fact that I'm in a position that is only made tolerable by the people I work with and live with keeping me from getting that first year in something that holds much more promise?? Is there someone I'm not getting to know because, quite simply, I don't know her yet??
"If it's meant to be, it'll happen." Here's a toast to the hope that it happens early in 2010 -- before the only realization is that it's too late.
"A man's doubts and fears are his worst enemies." Or, you could say, a man must continue on with his life and what he's doing. I find it interesting that this quote comes from William Wrigley Jr., a name made famous by chewing gum. When you chew gum, it's usually the one constant in what you're doing. And it doesn't really matter what emotions you're feeling -- you can chew gum when you're happy, sad, angry, or whatever. But no matter what's going on around you, you know how to chew it.
Almost exactly one year ago, I sat in the freezing cold bedroom of my apartment wondering what the year had in store. I was starting my path towards something new. Job applications were going left and right. My research into education programs was just beginning and I was prepared to start everything up again.
Instead, I spent a 365 days building up and tearing down as another job application was denied, either for inexperience or for lack of degree or for lack of employment available. Sometimes it was worse, building up for a job for which I applied, then never hearing any response, as if being thrown out of a plane with no parachute, knowing it was a lost cause at the end, but not knowing when the end would be. In the end, as I looked back at 2009, it was a lot failure, plain and simple. Or as I've recently been prone to describe my life, "It's in a state of 'whoops.'"
"If it's meant to be, it'll happen." And if it's not meant to be, it won't. So in theory I should be happy to have found so many opportunities that were not meant to happen. In theory I should be glad to know that there are other options, other people, other things that are perfect for Kevin Hunt.
But then there's the resounding theme heard shortly after my wrestling career ended: "If he just had one more year." I won just one match at the District Tournament, but that one win secured me a winning season record at 18-17. I met the goal set out by my coaches and me at the beginning of the year, but there was a certain flavor of disappointment lingering. It was described in the season-ending banquet as, "If he had just one more year."
Head Coach Matt Coleman said those words with the best of intentions. They spoke to my leadership and my desire to work hard every single day. What he probably didn't intend them to do was to be a constant reminder that I spent a year playing basketball that really had no point. They weren't intended to be a reminder of how I missed the first year because I didn't know any better.
They are, however, one of the things I remember most about high school. I want to be clear -- this isn't a regret. For all we know, if I come back for another year of wrestling, I get thrown onto my neck and hurt my back to the point of no repair. Even so, I know that the probability was better that I would have only gotten better with the additional year.
So what am I missing?? Is the fact that I'm in a position that is only made tolerable by the people I work with and live with keeping me from getting that first year in something that holds much more promise?? Is there someone I'm not getting to know because, quite simply, I don't know her yet??
"If it's meant to be, it'll happen." Here's a toast to the hope that it happens early in 2010 -- before the only realization is that it's too late.
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