Sunday, February 15, 2015

Well . . . instead of telling you about my feelings or thoughts about the subject I was going to, let me instead speak of the time of year.

This is the best time of year for sports. Bar none.

Football is over. We know who the World Champions are (within reason). But there is the draft coming up. All the marginal players will make the papers for leaving and selective hold-outs will be making noises. And the trials will be coming up for the scouts to look at.

Then there are the basketball hoop-la’s to look forward to – college, and pro. Lots of noise.

Baseball is slowly filling the news. A player here, a hint there, and, hopefully the weather will allow it, a few pictures of green grass, white fences, uniformed players lollying about the outfield and pretending to stretch out muscles and ham strings.

Last night there was the Sprint Unlimited NASCAR race, the pre-cur sorer to the Daytona 500, which kicks off the thirty-six weeks of NASCAR racing.

(Which might be ten weeks too long, because it covers up both the beginning of football and the ending of baseball – which is, itself, too damn long)

So, yes. The best time of year for Sport.

Which beats the hell out of war in the Balkans, war in the Middle East (please tell me where the Near East is) and war in Africa. Don’t you agree?

_____

From the reaches,

Ten Whiskey

About tenwhiskey

User tenwhiskey is also the author of this blog. He currently lives in small town Kansas in a semi-retired condition. His kids are married and gone (thank you). An empty nester. Divorced. Very happy with life as it is. Ten Mile maintains a personal blog here, writing of events as they appear to him; commentary, and opinions abound. He deviates into fiction as the mood strikes and creates flash fiction stories and short stories. He will not warn the reader when he drifts from fact to fiction. He feels adults are, generally, smart enough to figure out which is which. He does, however, attempt to make his fiction sound as true to life as possible. You have been warned. He, as time permits, writes and occasionally sells writing. More often than not he gives it away to various non-paying publishers of Ether Magazines, forums or for entertainment on a wall for in need of a hand friends. He likes candy, pies and a certain amount of strife. In the matter of strife - in his yourth on the farm, he became embroiled in a slinging fight. The fight involved lath as a launcher, fresh cow patties as ammo and it was a six way free for all. A little mud only adds (Umm?) a certain taste to life.
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