Published: August 12, 2008 02:05 pm            

Column: It’s gotta be the heat ...

Since I endeavor, as a general rule, not to take a great number of things too seriously, I am not usually prone to rant about issues that I either have no control over, or that have little to do with basic quality of life. As long as my wife, kids, grandkids and close friends are reletively healthy, I can avoid intolerance from Trophy Nana (aka, my spouse) and the aches and pains of my pentagenarian body stay at around a five on the 1 to 10 scale, I’m usually a sweetheart ... really.

However, I’ve found myself getting rankled about a plethora of sports-related predicaments recently. Things that rarely qualify as proverbial burrs under my saddle. There are plenty of non-sports issues that have pushed my buttons of late, but I save those for my editorial room colleagues ... no reason you should have to suffer like they do.

I can only attribute this unfamiliar irritation to the brutal summer that we have all shared, and I’d like to personally thank all of you for sharing it with me. Let’s do it again in 12 or 15 years, at least, shall we?

These mini-tirades are not necessarily in order of the degree of aggravation. And these are not all of the things that are bothering me. Just a handful. I don’t want to appear too grouchy. Let’s just categorize these rants as “fine summer whines.”

FSW one: Oxnard optimism - Everyone, including the head coach, should quit spewing on a daily basis about how the Cowboys are headed to the Super Bowl. Hey, I like surprises! As much as I have anticipated and enjoyed the championship years ‘round these parts, I do not enjoy, nor condone the mindset that all the silver and blue have to do this year, or any year, is dress in time for the kickoff and brush up on the postgame interview pat answers. “Get your ring fingers ready?” Even in jest, that’s just a really dumb thing to say. As if “da Boyz” don’t already have a big enough target on their helmets.

FSW two: Favre frenzy - I like the guy, OK? I’ve totally enjoyed his career, including the eight or nine losses at Texas Stadium, but enough of the soap opera, already. Oh yeah, the deal is finally done and he’s a Jets-setter now, but there is little doubt that we’ll be inundated with weekly updates about how the Green Bay and Gang Green boys did from week-to-week, how they might have done sans the trade and what in the world that has to do with the price of smog in Bejing.

FSW three: It’s the pitching, stupid - Once again, the Rangers are putting up phenominal offensive numbers. We marvel at the comeback of a Josh Hamilton and the wonderful resurgence of a guy who was named after a toy company. But once again, the Arlington team is aceless and clueless about building an even mildly-threatening rotation. Sure, big numbers are fun, but you don’t have a lot of 14-10 game scores in the AL or NL playoff series. And besides, football is just around the corner.

FSW four: On-air oracles - I’m amazed at the number of “experts” we have at our disposal right here in the Metroplex with microphones stuck in their mugs. Many seemingly innocent sports talk programs apparently feel compelled to take a “shock jock” approach, behind the guise of trying to be informative and entertaining. It’s like a high school debate team, where talking-head No.1 has to take an opposing view against talking-head No.2, whether No.1 believes that the stance is complete drivel, or not. Being a sports media-type myself, I try to stay informed, but I find myself shoving in a CD when I go into expert overload. I understand everyone can be a little pretentious every once in a while. I mean, I used “pentagenarian” earlier in this piece.

FSW five: Pump paranoia - Even though gas prices have abated somewhat in the past few weeks, it’s still a big dent in my weekly survival allowance ... Oh yeah, I promised only sports-related gripes, didn’t I? Well, forgive me if it seems like an athletic event to get the car gassed up and jump back into the relief of the AC before my shirt feels like it’s been doused with a bucket of hot water.

I’m telling you, it’s the heat. I’m usually a real nice guy.

        

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