The Morning Man riffs on Nothing Going On, Hunter Greene as a 4-inning ace, a revisionist take on the battle of Gettysburg (it was beautiful), vinyl records and other stuff. Feel free to chime in.
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Rainy days should be good writing days. Quiet, contemplative, free of the pressure to be doing something more fun. I’d rather play golf than write about the NBA playoffs. (I’d rather pour acid in my retinas than write about the NBA playoffs.) I’d rather walk Crazy Chester from Loveland to Indiana and back than write one word about the transfer portal.
Job-hopping 19-year-olds. Zzzzzzzzz.
Given the weather today, it follows I should be my own Guest Hemingway, cocooned among the syllables. But I’m not. We’re in one of those speculative spots on the sports calendar. I don’t like speculative spots.
The NFL draft and the basketball portal play to the barstool industry of discussing hypotheticals. If/Thens. Zzzzzzzz.
Mock drafts are the football version of a Jackson Pollock painting. Throw many names against a wall. Call it predictive art. I don’t like Jackson Pollock. I prefer Edward Hopper. His work is real.
Pollock painting of an NFL Mock Draft
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Portal Talk is for people who like to think they know things, when they don’t. It’s the post-modern version of recruiting. Nothing is more boring than recruiting. Unless it’s talking about recruiting. Zzzzzzzzzz.
A writer is only as good as his material. Sports writers are beholden to happenings. Nothing great is happening today. That said, the virtual bar is open. I feel a responsibility. And it’s raining. What the hell else am I gonna do?
A few notions, none brilliant:
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