4. I'm still not crazy about any report that says "done" unless it's definitely, 100 percent done.

Quick tangent: I like the engagement-ring corollary for all sports reporting. If a friend calls me and says "I'm engaged," I always want to know if they actually got the ring. Give her the ring, you're engaged. If not, "Let's get married" may have been something thrown out there during a drunken dinner, right after sex, during a makeup session after an argument … who the hell knows? I want to see that ring. Once you get the ring, there's no going back. You're locked in. You can get out, but it's almost impossible, and even worse, you might have a one-carat diamond whipped at you at 65 miles an hour.

Had Smith said, "I learned tonight that Miami is the prohibitive favorite to get all three; someone would have to go back on their word for this not to happen," then it played out the way it had, he would have been the Nostradamu-SAS of this thing. But he tried to get engaged without the ring. Still, he gets a partial credit for sniffing it out. Nobody else had the Miami scenario. And if Smith DID have accurate intelligence and it WAS done, then that means the guys panicked and concocted every event these past eight days -- every waffle, every leak, every extra meeting -- just to throw us off the scent.

 

13. I think it's a cop-out. Any super-competitive person would rather beat Dwyane Wade than play with him. Don't you want to find the Ali to your Frazier and have that rival pull the greatness out of you? That's why I'm holding out hope that LeBron signs with New York or Chicago (or stays in Cleveland), because he'd be saying, "Fine. Kobe, Dwight and Melo all have their teams. Wade and Bosh have their team. The Celtics are still there. Durant's team is coming. I'm gonna go out and build MY team, and I'm kicking all their asses." That's what Jordan would have done. Hell, that's what Kobe would have done.

In May, after the Cavs were ousted in the conference semifinals, I wrote that LeBron was facing one of the greatest sports decisions ever: "winning (Chicago), loyalty (Cleveland) or a chance at immortality (New York)."

I never thought he would pick "HELP!"

1:03 PM

So sayeth the colicky Colicchio himself, on his Bravo blog:

“I’m going to try my best not to sound testy. As you’ve also just watched the episode though, I’m sure you won’t fault me if I do…. Watching the episode, I was amazed to hear mutterings of ‘I’m not a pastry chef’ and ‘I’m not a grill chef.’… I was at my family’s swim club one summer day when I was approximately 10 years old, and after a day of swimming I found myself good and hungry. My father had brought along several club steaks, and had heated the grill but not yet cooked the steaks. I couldn’t wait. I popped one on the grill and, when it seemed adequately cooked, I popped it back off and ate a bite…. I came out of my reverie to face an angry family: I’d singlehandedly cooked and eaten all the steaks…. I guess I discovered grilling…. I was 10, and it never occurred to me to shy away from the task because ‘I wasn’t a grill chef.’”

9:19 AM

the thought of lukewarm and room temperature makes me a little queezy.  i prefer the luxuries of hot & cold.  i like the option of having all 3 actually.  and options are what make life better.  or make me happier.  or the option of trying things until i find what makes me happy.  and i feel that money brings more options.  and if more options will bring happiness, then more money will bring happiness.  thats what i believe without getting fundamental or theoretical.  im cool with the way my life is now.  i just want to upgrade it. increase it.  give it more options. and not argue about the fundamentals of idealistic happiness.  or the pursuit of it. 

that was the debate last night.

 

4:28 AM

the long island bbq's started 2003 july 4th weekend.  the lop was pale faced about relationship issues and spent the weekend to get away in the pool floating around in my dads swim trunks and swigging seagrams and seven up.  we drank.  then we ate.  then floated in the pool.  then drank. and then ate.  that's how it went.  and that's how it was this weekend.

this past weekend, we started slow.  frank didn't want to drink and chomo doesn't drink unless it's ketel one.  so we started around 3pm.  we had some beer.  we had the burgers.  we tried to play "the game" (frisbee and treading water in the pool). but we didn't have flotation devices (aka noodles) and didn't have hard liquor.  so i made a run to the market.  came back with noodles, beach ball, potato salad and Glenlivet and ketel one.

we swigged the whiskey.  we drank the ketel.

it was glorious.

and he shouldn't get married.

8:43 AM

this is a diary.  and i realize now im missing one of the most important events of the year that i actually attended....the lops bday!  i flew back from texas just to make his bday party, fashionably late w 2 chicks in tow of course.  by the time i made my rounds saying hi to everyone and making small talk, i intermittently caught the lop swiggin whiskey left and right.  before i knew it, it was i who had to drag his ass upstairs.  and then it was i who had to clean up the roof.  and it was also i who fed him salami while he was sleeping.  hilarious.

 

  

 

8:43 AM

this morning i walked down the LIRR Wyandanch platform towards the back of the train, cuz that's closer to entrance to the 2/3 line @ penn station, and when i got to the waiting awning i passed by 2 animal control trucks, a cop car and a huge stray dog panting with smiley fangs chilling inside the booth.  it was obvious what was going to happen, but when they cornered him, he ran out and leaped on to the tracks. twisting his ankle and writhing in pain between rails.  

i cringed.

2 fat cops stood around saying OH NO and did nothing for a good 5 minutes until they realized a train was headed this way.  balding white cop strolled down the platform waving his flashlight @ the oncoming train with zero urgency.  as the oncoming train did little to slow down, the cop decided to wave his flashlight in broad daylight more furiously.  the train started to slow down at the last minute but...OOO.  

i was so afraid the dog got squished but he didn't.  apparently he got up and started limping down the tracks.  black fat cop walked after him, continually trailing in distance as his fat ass made no effort to keep up with the dogs limping pace.  the 2 dog catchers seemed to have no idea what they were doing regardless of waving around those lasso sticks.  

limping dog limped down the tracks.  and somehow made it back to the station and back onto the platform.  the cops and dog catchers followed lackadaisically and eventually they lost the dog.  they got in their cars and left.  and the train was 12 minutes late.

it's confirmed.  i'm a dog person.

8:25 AM

there was reason to celebrate.  i would have drank either way to drown a .5M loss or now celebrate that it was no longer my loss.  either way. i had 3 drinks before dinner and mr. chow's...sucks! the chicks weren't even that hot. but the ketel and soda's tasted good.  and then somehow i ended up @ the bar again.  and then @ biergarten.  and then a limo?  and then vivi.  wow.  they remembered me.  wow. i had a huuuge headache.

did you know that sagitarius' are competitive.

12:14 PM