I’ve mentioned numerous times how the universe messes with me, right?
Well, it is at it again.
I am going to talk about sports for a minute. Don’t stress. It’ll be over quickly and it won’t hurt a bit. Whoa. Shades of prom night.
And I’ll do my best to give you a chuckle.
Again like prom– Nevermind.
Plus, I’ll throw in a little Monkey story at the end. (No skipping ahead!)
Last year I got involved with a pretty serious fantasy basketball league with some dudes. We mostly keep the same players year to year. We have a (VERY COMPLICATED) salary cap. We try to mirror the NBA as much as possible. Trades. Free agency. Everything except the firing of guns outside of Indianapolis strip joints.
And I, for one, refuse to rule that out completely.
These are hardcore basketball fans. And hardcore stats junkies. The group includes, math majors, a basketball journalist, a stats professor (!!!) and… me.
But, that’s cool. I figured that my street smarts, sports knowledge, gumption, charm and manly touch would allow me to be competitive.
Fiiiiiiiine. The charm and manly touch might not help (I hope), but I just like to keep putting it out there.
In our initial draft, I picked young guys. Dudes I expected to become stars. I picked some guys that I knew would stay in Europe for a year or two. I picked one fella because saying his name made me feel like a Mexican wrestling commentator. “Juan Carlos Navarrooooooooooo!!”
I had a plan. I saved salary cap space for the future. I had the second overall pick, and despite much scoffing from EVERYONE, took a young point guard named Chris Paul. I took him over Kobe, Dwayne Wade, Kevin Garnett, etc.
And, in our inaugural season… every single one of my players got injured and my team was brutal. The universe also likes to badly injure players that I select in fantasy drafts.
I ended up with the second worst record in the league, but won the first overall pick in the lottery. Yes, we have a draft lottery.
Everyone expected me to draft Greg Oden. “Best center in years…” “Will redefine the position…”
Does Peter listen?
Does Peter ever listen to advice?
Should Peter stop asking and answering his own questions and get on with this post?
I had worries about Oden’s health. He had some weird hip/leg/back thing on the go. And he looked like he was 47 years old. So, I took Kevin Durant.
And now Durant is tearing up the league. And Greg Oden had (a SERIOUS) knee surgery before the season and is out for the year.
And Chris Paul? Dude, seems like a hall of fame lock in his third season.
And my crappy team, that people laughed at last season…
#1 overall, baby!
I was going to write this post the other day.
It was going to be all braggalicious. (Even worse than this one!)
And then the universe, sensing my plans, injured my young starting center, and break-out star, Andrew Bynum.
He’s going to be out for two months.
Coincidence? I think not.
I wasn’t shocked. At all.
It was my own fault.
Now, I am not writing this post to try to anger the universe. It showed me who is boss.
I just thought I’d do this little post to let the universe know that I am POSITIVE that the Patriots will win today. And that the universe can’t stop them.
And also that I would hate it if Randy Moss tore his ACL, MCL and broke a nail today.
Since you were all so patient…
So, The Monkey’s Mommy and aunt arranged for a manicure and pedicure lady to come in to the Monkey house to give, well, manicures and pedicures.
There was a bunch of people getting them done.
The Monkey went last.
She told everyone that she wanted a pedicure, and she wanted “polish on my finger nails too.”
She said that the next day she had to go visiting people to show off her fingers and toes.
Then she sat in the chair, leaned back, looked at the woman and said…
“Gimme the works.”