Little David is in the 5th grade. Yesterday morning when the teacher asked the children what their fathers did for a living, all the typical answers came up: fireman, policeman, salesman, etc. The teacher noticed that little David was being uncharacteristically quiet and so she asked him about his father. "My father's an exotic dancer in a gay bar and takes off all his clothes in front of other men. Sometimes, if the offer's really good, he'll go out to the alley with some guy and do it with him for money." The teacher, obviously shaken by this statement, hurriedly set the other children to work on some coloring, and took little David aside to ask him, "Is that really true about your father?" "No," said David, red faced. "He plays for the Detroit Lions, but I was too embarrassed to say that in front of the other kids." -------- I'll never forget the first time I saw my grandfather cry. It was 1983, I was five years old, and the Detroit Lions had just missed a last second field goal to lose in the playoffs at San Francisco. It was the beginning of the 49ers dynasty of the 80s, and the first in ...

Brace yourself for the most depressing day of the year. Today supposedly is the day, according to psychologists, when Americans feel the most depressed. It's about this time every year when the bills start rolling in from Christmas and we realize that, after three weeks, our New Year's resolutions were just a bunch of bullshit. If you're like me, and are actually feeling all right today, here's a list of things to be depressed about (in no particular order): 1. Ukraine: Ukraine looks like it's about to explode from all the political strife. Unless it calms down jiffy-quick, look for a new war in Europe to break out sometime soon. When Russia comes to the aid of one side, it's only a matter of time before we come to the aid of the other. 2. Snow: Seriously, look outside, there's like two freaking feet of snow on the ground. I hate the snow. I hate the way people drive in it and I especially hate how people say "We got a foot at my house, how much did you get at yours?" Like it's some kind of fucking contest. Fuck the north, I'm moving to Alabama. 3. Members of the opposite sex: There's ...

This is going to be one of those lame, sentimental posts (although not about a girl). Just be warned. I grew up all over the country. In my childhood, I saw 13 different houses in six different states, Growing up like that, you learn a couple things. First, you learn to be comfortable with adjusting to new surroundings, which isn't an easy thing for most people. Secondly, and more importantly, you learn the value of loyalty. You learn that friends are important, and if they are loyal to you, then you must pay them the same courtesy. That said, my hockey team, the Rebels, has had a rough go if it these past six months. We haven't won a game since August and I fear that I have failed them as a leader. Yet, season after season, they keep coming back. They keep looking to me for leadership and they keep giving 110%. I can't explain it, but their loyalty to the team is astounding. So right out of the gate this season, things aren't much different. We're 0-2 and at times, we looked like the damn Keystone Cops out there. Everybody keeps trying though, and they keep looking to me to lead. ...

I had this whole thing written out about how I discovered the source of all my (and my teams') recent bad luck, but it was really boring. Who cares? Long story short, I've been wearing these wrist bands for all of last season with the Rebels, the two games we've played this season, and the past three games with the American Eagles. Save yesterday's Eagles game, where I lost the writstbands halfway through, we've lost all of those games. My performance has been a lot less than stellar in those weeks as well, but once I lost the wristbands, things got exponentially better. Our team pulled ahead and we won the game. The wristbands, I've decided, were the cancer. I'm contemplating burning them. What do you think? Other than that epiphany, last night was great. Blondie came out and watched my hockey game. We won, and I made two horrible plays and four really huge plays, so in the end, I'm +2. The big plays, by the way, came after I took those fucking sweatbands off. After the game, I met up with Loc, Beaker and Cannons at the bowling alley. We used to bowl all the time back in the ...

Image via Wikipedia Adding to my list of reasons to hate Texas A&M University, Don Muhlbach blew the snap on what would have been a game-tying PAT, essentially losing the game for the Detroit Lions. Damn Texas A&M, damn Don Muhlbach and damn the Detroit Lions. One of these days, they're going to kill me. I'm going out with "blondie" later though, so I'd better put on my happy face and cheer up.

Before I head down to Franco's for the Lions game, I'm going to go Larry King on you and just start spitting out random, unrelated thoughts. 1. I learned a long time ago that the best way to avoid seeing something that makes you uncomfortable is to not look at it. If you're embarrassed about what you've done in the past, for example, and it's documented somewhere, don't go reading and re-reading it. 2. I'm still looking for the following Jude songs: Everything is OK and Everything I own. 3. I had this strange dream last night where I was the spokesman for an NFL team who had the first pick in the draft. The problem was, I didn't know who we wanted to draft, and for some reason didn't even know any of the top prospects. To make matters worse, when I finally thought I figured out who we should pick, I tried to announce it from the podium and realized I had no voice. So I asked Lou Holtz, who was dressed in all Notre Dame gear, to help me. When he got up to the podium, I pointed to the name of the player I wanted to draft and he ...

My debut with the American Eagles was a success. As the newest member of the team, I had two assists in our 5-2 win over a team of hacks sponsored by my new favorite bar: The Crowe's Nest. Apparently it went so well that they've asked me to join their other team, which starts in January. I'd never leave the Rebels, either, so that means I'd be playing for the American Eagles (yes, I know it's kind of a gay name, but it comes from the business that sponsors the team,) on Mondays and Wednesdays in Canton and Wixom respectively, and with the Rebels on Thursdays and Sundays in West Bloomfield. That's a whole lot of hockey. It was a nice change of pace being just one of the members of the team, rather than the man in charge. I don't even hear my own name any more when it comes to the Rebels, it's always "how ya' feeling tonight, coach?" I definitely think I was more relaxed without having to worry about letting down my buddies or living up to whatever my brother's team is doing. I played 100 times better tonight than I have in a long time. That aside, ...