Wednesday, February 16, 2005

"Bettman cancels NHL season"

This is just a sad day. Hockey has become "the first major pro sports league in North America to lose an entire season to a labor dispute." Not exactly a statistic that I would strive for or be proud of, but the NHL's "commish"--and players, apparently--don't exactly seem to mind it too terribly much.

Last night while playing poker, I was discussing the lock-out and impending cancellation of the season w/ John. Apparently the hockey players refused a $42.5 million dollar salary cap, and came back at the owners (or powers that be, whatever you want to call them) with a proposition of $49 million. And that is per team. $49 million dollars PER TEAM. (Can you imagine what that is split up between, say 30 guys? And not all of them are gonna get an equal cut of it, either.) It's incredibly difficult for me to imagine why the hockey players are so adamantly against a salary cap when they make so much money to begin with.

But John made a point that I'd never really thought of: sure, hockey players make a ridiculous amount of money per season, but so do just about all other pro athletes. That wasn't his point, like, "Well everyone else is being spoiled-ass rotten with exorbitant amounts of money, so hockey players should be, too." His point was that, it's a safe bet to assume, hockey is more dangerous when compared to the other pro sports. (Touche. When the hell do you have to worry about getting an ice skate to the face while playing football or baseball?) His opinion seemed to be that hockey players are a bit tougher (not saying in any way that football players aren't tough), therefore they "deserve" a bit more money for the wear and tear on their bodies. I don't know if I agree 100%, but I do definitely see his point.

Granted hockey may not be the most popular sport in the USA, but there are those of us out here that like...no, love it. Too many good memories that I have are courtesy of hockey--going to games w/ my dad, watching them on TV, memorizing the stats of all the Blues players (yes, folks, I have been known to do that)--and I'm not quite ready for hockey to fall short by the wayside. I can't imagine there being no hockey...sure, I'd still have baseball to watch...in the summer. But what about the winter?? Football? Naw. Hate to say it, but I'd choose hockey over football ANY day.

Thursday, February 03, 2005

famous last words

"Be careful...be careful..."
Famous last words today, apparently...

6:15 a.m.: phone call from Dustin--"Well I made it to work safe..." I thought that sweet little phone call was a perfect start to a perfect morning, until I heard: "Until I got to the parking lot..." "Huh?" "I wrecked. I slid on a patch of ice and hit a tree..." "Are you ok?? Is the truck ok?? How much damage was done to the truck?? Are you ok?? How did it happen?? etc. etc. etc." He assured me things were ok--the truck was just dented in the front on the bumper & grill, his back was sore but he was mostly just shaken up; however, his truck was stuck in the mud. The tree he hit was up over a curb, which happened to be the top of a semi-steep hill that leads down to the baseball diamonds. He couldn't back it out since the mud was, well, mud; the curb was partly to blame, too. It's one of those funky, higher, squared-off on top curbs. But at least he was ok.

6:20 a.m.: Came out of the bedroom & headed toward the hall closet for a towel; saw a not-so-happy Donna. Apparently the door was wide open when Donna got up, and most of the inside cats were outside, while outside bitch cat Princess was inside, eating and GROWLING at the other cats in the house. Finally got all the cats / kittens in their proper places (didn't take too terribly long) & went to shower.

approx. 7:15 a.m.: driving through Waterloo on my way to work. Was about 50, maybe 75 yards from Schneider's when I decided to change songs on the radio. Heard a loud crash and looked in time to see cars in front of me slamming on their brakes. Slammed on my brakes & just saw smoke. Turns out someone was apparently heading toward town & somehow managed to hit 2 trucks. Both lanes heading toward Columbia were completely blocked by this man's car--who hit the trucks--and his car looked like it had imploded in on itself. The one truck looked like "Uncle" Ray's, so I pulled over to the side of the road & went back to the scene to make sure it wasn't him. Once I realized it wasn't, I didn't want to seem like a weirdo that was just checking things out; I wanted to actually help. So I went over to other bystanders & started talking to them to see what happened, etc. Someone went to the smashed car, said the guy inside wasn't moving, but was slightly breathing. I went over & squatted down next to the passenger door (you could not see anything through the driver's door; the roof had collapsed), but all I could see was legs. Standing up, I could look directly down into the backseat--the young man's seat had broken backward (I'm assuming), and he was laying prone from the front seat to the back. His eyes were closed, but he was breathing a bit. I asked him if he could hear me, & after a few failed attempts at getting an answer, he finally said he could hear me. He kept repeating, "The roads are slick..."; I just stood there & talked to him, telling him to be calm & help was on its way. Police got there, got the driver side open, & the man was able to sit up on his own. He was bleeding and had obviously hit his head, but didn't seem to be TOOO bad. Kept insisting he was ok, but everyone told him to just lay down & relax so he could be checked out by the EMTs. Feeling there wasn't much more that I could really do, got back in the car & headed to work.

7:30 a.m.: called in late to work--I knew that was going to happen--but they were understanding, considering the road conditions & after I gave a brief rundown of the above.

7:45 a.m.: "They want me to see a doctor." Text message from Dustin. I insisted on taking him if he had to go; said he'd let me know.

I took Dustin to the doctor--they sent him back to work, told him nothing's wrong, but wrote that he has a "thoracic strain". Recommended alternating ice / heat, and resting. Got the truck outta the mud--seems "ok" but Jack's gonna look at it Saturday morning. Work's been busy as f**k--phones ringing off the hook and dictation stacked to the ceiling.