The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey

First of all, a programming note: I had planned all along to compile the survey for the week starting with the day of the week the first day of the year started with.  Since a year contains 365 or 366 days, that would leave me with an extra day or two at the last survey, and we obviously are at that point now.  I decided that, to treat myself for a hard year's worth of weekly surveys, I would keep that promise and not do my next survey until seven days of the following year has past.  Therefore, the next WMNSS will be some time around Friday, January 7, 2010, and every Friday thereafter for the whole year.  Besides, I need the extra day to recuperate from this daily commitment.

#-1: Gopher men's basketball (Last Week: -1).  Finally, a tough win against a quality opponent.  They open Big Ten play with a win for the first time in three years by coming back from an early second-half deficit and beat Penn St. and the Barn by five.  And the Gophers have now won six in a row (all at home) with the help of Lawrence Westbrook's 18 points in the second half, which included draining four threes in the back 20 minutes.  But they now have to leave their insulated coccoon at Williams next week: They play at Iowa and fourth-ranked Purude next week.  Now we'll see how good this team is.

#-2: Wild (Last Week: -2).  A 2-1 week -- a pair of 4-3 victories to start out, followed up by a 4-2 loss to nemesis Anaheim.  Mikko Koivu still looks good.  And Guy Latendresse is looking more and more like he can stick in the NHL.  Congratulations to the five guys who will be in the Olympics in February: Koivu, Niklas Backstrom, Antti Miettinen, Martin Havlat, and Marek Zidlicky.  The first three will play for Finland, the last two for the Czech Republic.  Not to sound like a Republican, but where are the Americans?  This week: Well, they have a New Year's Eve game at home tonight against Los Angeles, then host former Head Coach Jacques Lemaire and his new team, the New Jersey Devils, New Year's Post, then do back-to-back games at Chicago and vs. Calgary Tuesday and Wednesday.

#-3: Timberwolves (Last Week: -3).  I was at last night's loss to the Bastard New Orleans Jazz and it was so frustrating.  They led at half by one, but Jazz Head Coach Jerry Sloan made some adjustments which led to many plays where a Jazz player was all alone under the basket.  Those defensive breakdowns, plus some hot shooting, gave them a lead of up to 17 points as late as 4:40 left in the game.  But this is an underachieving Jazz team meeting a Wolves team I'm now convinced has talent; they then ripped off 11 in a row after that deficit, and with the help of back-to-back threes by Kevin Love, got as close as three points.  Unfortunately, late turnovers, more screens leading to easy jams and layups, and missing 10-of-26 free throws (61.5%!) doomed them to a 107-103 loss.

That ended their 1-2 week.  I don't know if they've turned a corner yet, though I don't think they're the worst team ever in the history of the franchise.  One troubling sign: First-round draft pick and supposed point man for the next decade Jonny Flynn has been pulled by Head Coach Kurt Rambis more than a starter should.  And at least for last night, when his veteran replacement, Ramon Sessions, was running the offense, they played better.  They have three this week: A New Year's Night game against Orlando, then they immediately fly out to Indiana to play the Pacers Saturday night, then at home to Golden State Wednesday.

#-4: Gopher women's basketball (Re-Entry!).  Two cold spells, the first at the beginning, the second in the back half of the second half, doomed the Gophs to an eight-point loss at Purdue to start conference play.  Think about the current state of the program this way: Is there really any difference between this team and the team the year before Brenda Oldfield put the pieces together?  I don't think so.  So why isn't there more scrutiny over this team?  At least they get to go home for their next two conference games, against Iowa and Northwestern.

#-5: Wrestling (Re-Entry!).  They held the lead after the first day of the Southern Scuffle in Greensboro, N.C.  But against programs they usually leave eating their dust, they coughed up that lead and finished second to ... Cornell?  Two Gophers were able to win their class, but the Big Red had three, including grapplers ranked fifth and sixth, win their weights, so they made the Gophers eat their dust.  That shouldn't happen.  It just shouldn't.  They have one bout this week; the fifth-ranked Gophs host #2 Iowa St. this Sunday afternoon at 2.  I expect a loss.  But at least no one will show up, because Minnesota sports fans will be in the middle of witnessing another fucking Vikings disaster that exact same time.  And speaking of the Vikes ...

#-6: Vikings (Last Week: -4). ... who's to blame for that abortion of a loss to Chicago?  Antoine Winfield, for failing to stop that long bomb that ended the game?  Adrian Peterson, for coughing up the fatal fumble that led to the winning score the very next play?  The special teams, which allowed a blocked PAT that caused the tie, and also was gashed repeatedly on returns?  Or Head Coach Brad Childress for installing a stalled offense in the first half?  Or, all of the above?  With the loss, the New Orleans Saints, now looking very vulnerable, were given home-field advantage throughout the NFC playoffs.  The Vikes also handed over the steering column to the Philadelphia Eagles and said, "Here, why don't you take the driver's seat?!"  Because of their third loss in four games, they now have to win and hope the Iggles lose to Dallas in order to reclaim the second seed and next week off.  Thanks for nuthin'.

All of this is leading to opinions that Brett Favre should just run the offense the way he sees fit.  The second half is strong proof that he should, but I don't think so.  This was just one game in his now-regular late-season slump.  And the bottom line is you have to be able to run the ball.  They go all West Coast offense where they pass to set up the run, and that permeable offensive line will allow Favre to be tossed on his ass a dozen times against the Giants on Sunday.  You give the ball to Favre and the offense will come to a halt.  And they will lose.  And they will become the fouth seed after a first-round bye seemed a birthright.  And they will get upset by the Packers next week.  We Vikings fans know how this sad tale shall end.

I Can't Fucking Believe I Got Beat By A Coke Truck!

Driving down 35W to get to the Megamall to buy some stuff.  I underestimate the traffic going south.  I'm stuck behind a huge semi two cars away from me.  And for some reason this fucking lane isn't moving at all.  I had a chance to move to the one to the left of me, but I didn't because then I'd be behind this Coke truck.  So I think I should wait it out till the center lane moves again.  Which it never does.

Fuck it, I tell myself, and I change lanes.  Now I'm obsessed with the Coke truck.  Where is it?  It's now a dozen cars ahead of me.  It was dusting me, for fuck's sake.  The culprit wasn't the semi but some really short woman driving a really slow black sedan two cars behind it.  While I was marvelling this woman's poofy hat, the car behind me suddenly stops.  And now I'm not moving again.  It was the opening scene to Office Space.

And that was how it was all the way down the Megamall.  As soon as I switched lanes I was surrounded by a convoy of cars driving at O.J. speed.  They were braking like they were imagining squirrels running onto the highway.  Meanwhile this truck has made its way onto the horizon.  It was fucking gone, and I still don't know how that could happen.

I was so pissed I played cat-and-mouse with this blue sedan that wanted to merge onto my long, backed-up lane that leads into the MOA parking lot.  I spaced out and gave him some space, but luckily the light was turning yellow and I took advantage of his hesitation to close the gap.

My God, why is everybody fucking here?  My theory: People are more enthusiastic about shopping for themselves after Christmas than for other people for Christmas.

The Girls I've Lost This Year

May I make a confession?

One of my favorite hobbies is to get the October issue of Playboy, the one that has "The Girls Of [Some Conference." I then write down the names of all the girls in that spread, look up their e-mail addresses online at their respective school websites. Finally, I get up the courage to e-mail them, saying that they're so hot, telling them they took my breath away, and wishing them good luck in school. I tell them it's OK if they don't write back when of course I want them to.

Does it work? Well, it's not as if I was getting dozens of addresses when I first started with "The Girls Of The SEC" back in '98, but I think I got, like, a half dozen addresses. Out of those messages, I think I started out with getting, like, two or three of those chicks to write back. (For one girl I didn't get an e-mail but a phone number, and I had the courage to call her; unfortunately I got the wrong girl with the same name.) We'd trade a couple or a few messages back and forth, but it petered out usually by winter break.

It went that way for the next several years. My most successful campaign was when "The Girls Of The Big 12," where I had a yearlong correspondence with two chicks, Hilary Schatz of Texas A&M and Brenda Gerhardt of Colorado. Not only were they both hot, but they very sweet, very smart and very nice. One of my hugest regrets was switching the location of my phone in my dorm. I gave Hilary my old number in a letter I mailed her, then used my new number the following year. A letter she sent said she tried calling me at my old number. That letter is the last thing I ever received from her.

I decided to blog about this because I've been losing more girls in my life in the past year than at any time before. It's not just college girls who've gotten naked in Playboy. That well has been running dry for many years now. Stupid schools have gotten more tech-savvy and more concerned over these girls' privacy. Many of them don't use their school-bequeathed addies; some go so far as to not use their real names when posing. Psssh. I've been lucky to get one e-mail address during my searches.

But a couple years ago, way too late, I realized something: These are college students, so where do they go nowadays? Online social networking sites! I started with a special spring edition of Playboy's college babes, "The Girls Of Conference USA." I don't know why -- I guess I just Googled -- but the first chick I saw had a MySpace page. I wasn't on any of these sites, but I knew that if I wanted to be a part of a hot girl's life, I had to sign in, so I signed into MySpace and immediately friended these girls who posed. And just for good measure I signed onto facebook, even though I think it's less for people who are into porn. Let me be clear: I'm onto both sites to friend babes I see in Playboy; all the other real friends I have is only for keeping up appearances. Anyway, I got four of them from that pictorial to be MySpace friends.

The one I had the longest conversation with was Tracy "Alexander" from Southern Miss. Saw her pictures -- fucking hot. She was even hotter than her sole pic in the spread, where her torso is in bodypaint but she was completely naked and was showing off her beautiful pussy. You could not tell that she was a MILF. But she was cool and totally candid about her life.

Until one day, several months ago, I didn't see her MySpace page anymore. I knew she was getting serious with somebody and moving to a new house, but she didn't send any warning about deleting her MySpace. I checked facebook too, and for a while I saw her picture with her profile, but that too is gone. And I thought we had something special going on.

That's not all:

• A girl that appeared as one of "The Girls Of The Big Ten" several years ago I found on facebook -- McKenzie Closen of Illinois. Thought she was cool, till I commented on something she was showing off on her body and I didn't identify it as the piercing it really was; a couple months later she deleted her account.
• And Sandra Hubby, Miss March 2004, had a MySpace and then mysteriously was gone. I wish I knew the exact moment she deleted her account.
• Do you remember a girl named Carlie Christine Beck, a cheerleading coach at a Sacramento high school who was fired after a disgruntled student told them about her Playboy career? I signed onto her MySpace after her shitcanning. We never "talked," but when she did warn everybody that she was about to leave MySpace, then actually followed through on her warning, I was devastated. And I still am.

And there's even more. I have found a couple girls College Girls I had some lengthy e-mails with in the past on the sites. I thought there was a chance that Carey Oroke of Kansas and Lace Rose Allenius of Florida St. would remember and/or accept my friend request, but alas, they rejected me. Hell, I friended Carey three times on her MySpace and facebook, but she rejected me every single time. Don't know why they did that. Are they trying to distance themselves from their nudie past? They shouldn't; they still look as fuckin' hot as ever. Did they not remember me? That makes me sad.

So I have lost, and have been unable to retrieve, many of the hot women I want in my life. That makes me more thankful for all the hot chicks who have accepted my requests. Specifically, I want to point out all of the girls who have personally replied to me on my two pages -- babes like Mandy Calloway at Houston, Tee Lynn of LSU, Adrianne Day of Southern Miss, Nikki Christine at Purdue, Monique Omura of Florida, and Alexandra Ford of Miami.

Wow ... listing all these girls doesn't make me feel sad about all the ones I've lost over the years. Shoot, this was supposed to be a pity party, but now I don't feel so bad.

Deceiving My Parents

Feel bad about lying to my parents, but only because they haven't pissed me off recently.

The day I dropped them off at the airport last week was the beginning of the Snowpocalypse, a storm that, by the way, only dumped a foot of snow instead of the 20 inches some weathermen were expecting.  But it was flurrying with the likelihood of it getting worse as the night wore on.  So my parents, acting like parents, told/ordered me to go straight home after dropping them off.

Of course I didn't.  First of all, with the impending inclement weather there was a chance their flight would be delayed.  If it got to the point where their flight was cancelled I sure as hell didn't want to go all the way down to the airport to pick them up ... especially in that weather!  Of course, the real reason I went to the Megamall instead is because I wanted to go to the Megamall.  Specifically, I wanted to see Up In The Air.  Great movie, by the way.

I kept my phone on.  The only reason they would call is if their flight's delayed, in which case I would feel justified in sticking close to the airport, and to be brutally honest about it -- "See, I knew I should've stuck around!"  But nothing happened, so I assumed they were on their way to Vegas as scheduled.  Ah, alone time.  Shopping, people-watching, Hooters and looking at titties.  And I turned my phone off.

First sign of trouble actually was the second time I went out to the skyway to the parking lot to check the weather.  The first time I looked it still seemed OK; the second time, uh, worse.  But I wanted my wings and titties, so I went to Hooters.

I use my phone nowadays to calculate the tip.  I remember once when I was the Hard Rock Cafe and I personally told the bartender who waited for me the change I wanted from my bill; with the rest she could keep as change, she went from a look of professionalism to outright disgust.  I then thought I may have computed the tip wrong, and I did.  So now I use the phone to make sure.  And when I did just before I started all-you-can-eat wings at Hooters, I discovered that I had voicemail.

And it was Grandmother.  Twice.  She told me in both messages that Father called home to ask me how I was doing.  No he fucking didn't!!!  She told him he went out.  Oh, great.

So I had to finish up my wings, look at enough titty to sate me for the night and hurry out to the car, thinking up an excuse along the way.  OK, I thought to myself, the traffic was so bad I was diverted to another mall on the other side of the city, and so I said to hell with it and wait.  I went back out when there was less traffic and got home around dinnertime.  But the weather wasn't bad, so when I forgot that I needed to buy a Christmas card for a friend, I decided to go out, and then I decided to hang with a friend.

I actually called my Parents while driving on the road, which was slicker and a lot more dangerous now that the snow was really falling.  I needed to nip this in the bud now, so I called, got my Mother on my Father's phone for some reason, and told her I was driving home.  No, Mother, the roads aren't slippery, but I'm still taking it slow, just in case.  It's not bad, honest!

I thought that would placate them, but no!  For some fucking reason, My Fucking Father told My Mother to tell me to call him back as soon as I found out what the forecast for the next few days would be.  He probably thought I was closer to him than I truly was, but I gave them that impression.  So I decided to just fucking lie to them about the forecast; a little before I got home, I told them that the weather was going to turn worse overnight.  After I was done with the call, I was very close to home.

It took me a good 10 or 15 minutes to park my car on the driveway and scrape all the snow and ice off of it.  When I finally got done and pulling it into the garage (a hard task in and of itself because the driveway started to ice over) I saw that someone left me a voicemail.  Oh shit, is it my fucking parents again?

It was my Grandmother; five minutes ago my mom called home to ask about me, again.  Didn't think they were going to do that, so I didn't have any plan to tell Grandmother, so she lied the best she could and said I still wasn't home.  I was fully expecting them to fucking blow up on me for intimating I was home when I wasn't.  Luckily, it wasn't about that.  Mother asked me for something else, I don't remember, but she didn't ask me any questions about my whereabouts beyond what I had told her.

And since getting back, they still haven't asked.  They don't know the full story about where I went and about how I basically disobeyed them.

---

The weekend was very icy.  That goddamn Christmas shower we had kept the snowfall totals down, thankfully, but it created the ice that led to all that rocky shit at the bottom of the driveway starting on Saturday.  Moreover, there was a lot of ice that stuck to my parents' minivan over the weekend.

It got so bad that, apparently, one of the side doors would not fully close.  I suspected this driving it from my parents' store to home; whenever I'd make a turn the lights in the back would turn on, only to turn off once I straightened out.  It got worse when I started to drive to the airport; when I started the car the lights in the back would not turn off.  At first I thought it was just the car -- it's a beat-up work van and my parents are letting a lot of things go on it -- but tugging at the driver's side side door would turn off the "open door" light on the dashboard and the lights in the car.  Ah, so it had to be the door!  I'm driving with a door ajar!!  How fun!!!

Well, it wouldn't be, if this is not something my parents had let go and, in fact, is something that is fucked up.  While driving I started to panic about them flying in in a good mood because I gave Father some right football picks for a change, and then they'd get pissed off at me because this door light on the dash has been on the whole time -- "That's danger!  Do something!!  What's a matter with you?!?!?!"

But then I turned on the defrost at full blast.  I didn't think it'd generate enough heat to go beyond the windshield and begin to melt the ice to the side of the car, but it appears to have done that, because when I finally got to the airport I tugged at the door from the inside and heard something lurch.  And when I got out and pulled the handle, unlike previous attempts, it opened pretty much immediately.  Phew!  Now I won't have to answer questions about how I could drive the car with a door open.

And they never have to know.

Another House Party, Another Dick-Showing Opportunity?

All these years of going to this strip club is starting to pay off.

I have earned the trust of yet another girl, who's been working there for a couple years but who's only given me a lap dance the past week or so.  I got another one from her last night, and after subtly asking if she has plans New Year's Day, she revealed that she too does house parties.  I gave her my number (in front of the bouncer -- I'm so in!), and she says -- says -- she'll call me to see if she is indeed working a party New Year's Eve.  That'd be perfect for me because I have nothing to do.

Man, what a way to start the New Year; surprising this "mature" MILF by "showing her how she makes me feel!"  Hopefully this won't be at some Aryan biker bar where they'll lynch me for not being white.

More Snow Trouble -- Now It's Ice!

It was still snowing a bit today/yesterday/Saturday, but not enough to concern me.  My snowplow (when it works) can plow just this type of snow just fine but the amount's so tiny I shouldn't be using it.

No, I now have another problem: rocky ice.  It's the precipitation that fell not exactly as ice Christmas Day, but froze come Christmas Night.  And the city was so helpful in plowing all that shit onto the base of our driveway just before it hardened.  So I woke up Saturday with this huge mound of rocks I needed to drive over.  And I did -- but not before tearing off the bottom of my car.  Fuck, I have to go get it reattached again.

I have spent the past few days using an ice scraper/breaker/chipper to get that removed, but it's difficult.  You can't shovel that because it's virtually stuck to the pavement, and it ain't easy getting under that whole pile to uproot it.  Compounding all that is the heavy, wet snow, which means I have to carry all that and tax my heart some more.  I've got it down to small mounds, but I'm so sore I'm going to leave it at that.

Aside: Everything that was wet is now ice hard.  Funny to not only see these rocks I have to scrape off the driveway, but to throw them onto my lawn.  They don't pock through the snow; since it's hard, they bounce off of it, like a hardwood floor.  Cripes!

A Happy Ending To The Snowblower Incident

Tried to get the fuckin' snowblower to work again today, but couldn't.  So I had a long shovel ahead of me.

Dumping snow down the driveway, I saw an apparition.  It was my sister's best friend, checking up on us.  She helped me look over the snowblower.  We tried some things, and by God, it worked!

And then it didn't.  This heavy, wet snow just slayed the big-ass snowplow we have.  This thing was slowly oozing logs of slush out of the chute instead of projectile-vomiting it.  Soon it got stuck and stopped spinning/auguring; a few more seconds of trying to get it to go and throw snow and it began to smoke.  After a few more stalls, I gave up.  I can't believe this hulking monster of a snow thrower couldn't do the job while my sister's best friend's snowblower, a tiny little thing, was making its way up and down my driveway.  In fact, she plowed the driveway.  I was using the plastic clear-out tool after she got done.

Now I need to figure out why it didn't start in the first place -- was it the spark plug, not enough gasoline, not enough oil, I need to plug it in longer, plug it in for less time, what?  And what is this about the blades not spinning?  Is it because of, like, the spark plug wire or is it something more serious?  All of this I need to solve before the next snowstorm.

Even though I should keep this blog's focus on how my life sucks, thank Buddha my sister's best friend came around to bail my ass.  I don't think I can ever repay her.

The Three Perennial Christmas Commercials

This actually is a little late; I should've blogged about this before I slept last night, but I had to talk about the goddamn snowblower.  But the one tradition I as a Buddhist look forward to every holiday season are the commercials that are re-aired every year.  Before it becomes Dec. 26, thereby making this blog post irrelevant, here are the three yearly commercials I see every Christmas, as far as I know.

The third best is from Corona:



The second best is from Budweiser.  This and the Corona ad are virtually interchangeable, but I put this second because the voiceover was done one year (which is the ad I've embedded here) by, I think, George Clooney:



But far and away, the greatest Christmas commercial of all time is the Hershey's Kisses one where the kisses act like the shape that they are -- bells:



Hope you are continuing to have a Merry Christmas, everyone!

Goddamn Snowblower Doesn't Work

This will be the first of a few blog posts about this "Snowpocalypse."

Goddamn snowblower doesn't work.  My Fucking Father laid into me the first time it didn't work.  I thought it was because it needed time to juice up, but I put the plug in last night and it still doesn't fucking work.  Piece of shit.

I'm not going anywhere today but am tomorrow, and since there'll be snow falling through Saturday I needed to get a jump on this.  Thank Buddha my 'Rents weren't home, for that allowed me to go out about 90 minutes ago and get some shoveling in.

I was going to give myself at most an hour because I feared the weight of the snow.  It was worse than I anticipated.  This storm was fed by the Gulf Of Mexico so it's wet snow, heavy snow, "heart attack" snow.  I know this firsthand; about a decade-and-a-half ago my Grandmother was shoveling snow while we were inside.  She laid down in her bed and started wheezing a lot.  Eventually we stopped watching TV and realized she needed help.  We got our Uncle to take her to the hospital where they diagnosed her with a heart attack and said she needed a quadruple bypass.

She won't ever shovel again; I'll see to that.  Unfortunately I was relying on this piece-of-shit snow blower so I wouldn't have to shovel, either.  But I did, and as soon as I dug the shovel and plowed it through the first tract of snow on the driveway, I knew I had lost.  It's fuckin' heavy, dude.  And I felt a twinge up my left side as soon as threw the snow on my shovel off to the side.  The positive I wanted to take from shoveling now is getting some exercise in, but I think the only thing I exercised was my heart muscle, and it still feels like it's about to fucking explode.

This was when I started cursing Father.  The shovel I used is metal and has a shallow bucket.  It's heavy carrying it around as is, so it only got heavier as I scooped up the snow, and when I dumped it I still felt the weight of the shovel so it felt like I hadn't dumped out the snow at all.  Every fucking winter whenever I use that goddamn thing I think My Father went into fucking Menards and just bought the first goddamn shovel he saw.  Really, Pops, you couldn't find a lighter shovel?  This has to be the worst shovel on Earth, right?  So I look online ... and experts say it really doesn't matter!  Dammit, shoveling snow sucks no matter what tool you use, isn't it?  Fuck!

Still, I perservered, driving the snow down the driveway as much as possible, with each subsequent pass about half the length of the attempt before, then waddling over one of the sides of the driveway and tossing it over so that the pristine white is pocked with this gray clump.  I didn't really think I could make it to an hour; I spent most of my time stopping, spacing out, wondering if anybody would come across me if my heart suddenly blew out my chest, and I would begin to have a seizure and vomit blood and fall on the ground to spasm until all the blood drained out of me.  There were only one or two cars (one of them going and coming back) I saw driving down the street the hour I was there, I think, so I'm pretty sure I would've died.  Too bad -- having the night virtually to myself was another of the things that I had looked forward to while shoveling way early in the morning.

I had to stop.  There are two or three bare tracks that curve and slice down the driveway, and since it's still snowing it'll be like I never stepped out this morning when I come back in the afternoon.  I'll try the thrower again, but there's a spark plug that needs to be replaced or something because I don't think that fucker's going to work.  And I need all this snow, plus the snow yet to fall, off of the driveway by the time I leave for work Saturday morning.  Fuck me.

If I die of a heart attack shoveling, let this be my last words.

The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey

#-1: Gopher men's basketball (Last Week: -5). In a week both quiet and mediocre, Tubby Smith's guys finally (I think) reach the top. The Gophs' 30-point immolation of South Dakota St. gives the team a five-game winning streak. It's all well and good, and the opponents they've run over aren't complete unkowns (St. Joseph's and Northern Illinois) and are Division I, but it's safe to say that you can tell nothing about this team beyond the fact they lost to slightly tougher teams such as Miami and Texas A&M. It's awesome that Blake Hoffarber was named Big Ten Conference Player Of The Week and seemingly has found his shot after losing it last year. But I haven't seen this vaunted depth people keep talking about, and it won't be tested until they start conference play, which is Tuesday at home (for the sixth straight game -- is it a coincidence they've won all those games?) against Penn St.

#-2: Wild (Last Week: -6). They won two and they lost two. The Wild lost and won a game at home and on the road. Perfectly even. Besides getting blown out at Ottawa, nothing stands out. As it stands now, they are in 12th place in the Western Conference, four points from The Team That Was Stolen From Us (and by the way, look at the standings page on the Wild website. They list the teams by conference, not division. It looks wrong, but really, when you think about it, besides figuring out who wins the divisions, this is how it should be listed).  No rest for the wicked -- they have three games this week: hosting St. Louis Christmas Post, then back-to-back games at the Southland teams Monday and Tuesday.

#-3: Timberwolves (Last Week: -8).  This team also went 2-2, losing and winning both home and away.  I put the Wolves lower because, let's face it, this team ain't goin' nowhere.  I was at the Sacramento game Friday and was shocked at how thoroughly Tyreke Evans and the Bastard Cincinnati Royals; from what I heard about their comeback from a 35-point deficit to Chicago, their loss was the wake-up call that drove them to play some kick-ass ball.  Anyway, I looked through the stat page in the free program you get for every game ... and none of the Woofie Dogs are on the leaderboard for any of the categories.  Hey, fuck this season, right?  Their last three games of the year are home to Washington Saturday (featuring the homecoming of The Greatest Coach The Franchise Has Ever Known, Flip Saunders), at San Antonio Tuesday, then immediately back to Target Center to face Utah Wednesday, a game I hope to attend.

#-4: Vikings (Last Week: -1).  Ah, now begins the collapse.  That pathetic 26-7 loss to the Carolina Panthers -- the Carolina Panthers!!! -- was so insulting because I know that when they decide to play, the Vikings would kill that team, but nothing got on track, nothing.  The offensive line proved to be a joke, Adrian Peterson looks like a waste of a player, Antoine Winfield was beaten badly on that touchdown to Steve Smith and, worst of all, Brett Favre looked old and, later in the game, desperate in chucking the ball like it was recess.

But then the real fallout began.  Favre ratted on Head Coach Brad Childress, saying that he wanted to take him out of the game when they were only trailing 7-6.  Tom Powers of the St. Paul Pioneer Press reported that Childress was told he was thrown under the bus by Favre after he took a shower, and then, wearing only a towel, started yelling at his assistant coaches.  As with any bit of juicy drama confirmed or even started by the principles, all the other bad news and rumors came out: Pro Football Talk came out with the news that this is the third time Childress wanted to pull Favre from a game, and ex-Packer great and former Favre teammate LeRoy Butler said in the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel, and I am assuming in a snide way, that Favre is a diva and shouldn't have showed up Childress.

They're both wrong; Favre shouldn't've talked about an argument he said in Wednesday's press conference was behind them, but Childress shouldn't've thought about pulling him from the game.  At the very least you change the blocking protection so that there is another guy helping out McKinnie or his replacement, Artis Hicks, so that Julius Peppers doesn't keep bumping uglies with Favre on every goddamn play.  But there are two overarching points that should be emphasized.  First, this is all moot if they can run the ball, and it's probably the faul of both the line and Peterson that they haven't been able to do that because A.D. hasn't hit 100 yards in the last five games.  Also just as important is that Favre's passing production has deflated at precisely the same time as previous years.  Many experts have noted that #4's arm seems to be fine for only the first three-quarters of the season; after that, according to the stats, it declines precipitously.  He has outright sucked since the Cardinals loss, and I don't think he's going to find his mojo in cold Chicago, a place he famously hates to play.  So what happens if he comes out of the gate sucking Monday night.  Does Childress have the balls to pull him?  Can Peterson in order to keep that scenario speculation?

#-Infinity: Gopher volleyball (Last Week: 0).  OK, so like I thought, they lost to Texas.  I really didn't want to see them get swept so viciously by Texas, but I was afraid that was going to happen when you have a taller, bigger team.  But I still have to state what I said last week: It's weird to be so happy about a team when its season ends short of a championship, but yet I didn't expect this team to go so far.  Their Final Four appearance, the Final Four banner that they'll get to unfurl beginning next year, and their #4 ranking in the last AVCA Top 25 poll is something to be proud of.  Hopefully this Ashley Wittman girl, the Shakopee senior and Gatorade Player Of The Year in her sport, will be the difference.  By the way, congratulations to Hailey Cowles.  The Outside Hitter, and not Lauren Gibbemeyer or Tabitha Love, was the only non-finalist named to the Final Four All-Tournament Team.

I Have To Get This Off My Chest, But Cryptically

Was working. Feeling confident. Was asked to speak up. Did and was not discouraged to keep speaking up.

My job was to give two sets of numbers as accurately as possible through the game. I did, and I thought I was doing a pretty good job. And so when I heard someone yelling out, "2-9," I, being an expert at these two sets of numbers, piped up and corrected him: "3-9!" This guys says "2-9" again, so dammit, I yelled back -- "3-9!"

He didn't say another word. I win! Then I felt this chilly wave spill over me. That's when the co-worker to the right of me started saying, "No," like I didn't get it. And then I realized I really didn't get it. His shouting of "2-9" didn't have to do with my thing ... but the length of the upcoming field goal attempt.

Blergh. Wow, I must've sounded like a bellowing jackass. I was so ashamed of my mistake that I kind of shut down. I didn't update my numbers as the game went along as well as I could, so when I was asked for them, I think I gave inaccurate numbers.

Oh well. That one guy must think I'm a douche. But at least I got paid, and at an hourly rate higher than I usually get. Maybe my "boss" overlooked my spouting off and thought I was helpful. I hope he hires me again. I need the money.

Are You Fucking Kidding Me??

I probably have already used that as a title, so forgive me.

I have to "work" tomorrow. I got signed up for a research thing and they're paying very, very well. Should go to sleep now, for I have to get there around 7:15.

Tonight, Father bangs on my door. Goddamn, there is no peace in this house anymore. What does he want? He wants my help in checking in to his and Mother's flight, the one to Vegas, the one they didn't have tickets for as of late last week but have now. And he wants this done as soon as possible, which is 24 hours before the flight, which is 5 o'clock tomorrow evening. When I'll still be working.

Are you fucking kidding me? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?? The one fucking day I have something special to do all day is the one fucking day you need me to do something. Un-fucking-believable. I had 340 goddamn days this year where I could've just cleared my table and waited on the computer to check you in, but the one time, the one time I truly needed to myself is when you want me to do something for him.

He did his, "OKOKOKOKOKOKOKOK" routine and said he'll just come home early and do it. But I know him. He is the most passive-aggressive son-of-a-bitch on Earth. One day, maybe soon, maybe as soon as tomorrow, he'll snap at me for making some innocent comment, or for doing nothing at all. That's when he'll "get back" at me for "failing" him by working on the one fucking day he "needs" me.

I Touched A Chick's Tit Last Night

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Parking Mexican Standoff

I heard that for a few years a couple years ago, the biggest shopping day of the year wasn't Black Friday, but the Saturday before Christmas. It might not be true now, but yesterday was the Saturday before Christmas, and I went out to the Megamall to buy things and people-watch.

I was ready to fight the crowds, but there wasn't much fighting when I tried to go up to the second level of the parking ramp. There was a car stopped in front of me, which presumably was waiting for a car that was about to back out of its spot. There was another car on the other side of the ramp preparing to back out too. And top it all off, there was a car going down the ramp. This was a four-way stop in a fucking parking ramp.

And like many four-way stops in Minnesota, no one moved. No one. At first it gave me time to make a quick call, but once I was done with that call (which took me a couple minutes), still no one moved. We got a fucking standoff here!

I get out of my car and gesticulate wildly towards the cars seemingly fearful of this vortex that none of them want to step through because everybody is waiting for the other to move! Finally, the second parked car decided to give up break the ice, back out of the space, and free up the log jam. A minute later every car either had parked or left in an orderly fashion.

Good thing it didn't turn ugly. But I'll remember seeing that for a long time. I mean, didn't these people think that a lot of people would be waiting because they're backed up over who has the goddamn right-of-way???

Am I Narcissistically Sensitive?

I hope I'm not going to get into trouble over this.

In case you don't remember, George Sodini is the name of the man who went to a gym, crashed a class, turned off the lights, took out some guns and riddled the place with bullets.  Three women eventually died.  After Sodini was done, he put a bullet in his head.

When authorities went through his things, they found a website and some writings detailing his anger with just about everybody.  In particular, he was pissed off that he wasn't getting laid despite being what he felt was the perfect guy.

When I heard this, I thought, "Oh shit."  And I read more about his published thoughts.  This Sodini guy hated his father; I hate my father.  Sodini was particularly angry at his mom; I hold nascent animosity towards my mom.  He couldn't get fucked; I can't get fucked.

Worst of all is the profile described by a shrink about Sodini in this article:

"These guys are very narcissistically sensitive, meaning that the kind of insult or slight that you or I would just fluff off, these guys will ruminate and think about it and do that for long periods of time," [Dr. J. Reid] Meloy said.

Oh-oh. That describes me to a T. I actually think that I have a right to maintain a grudge against all those who insult me, but maybe that's his point. Do other people just let catty remarks and slights go in one ear and out the other? How do they do that? Am I really narcissistically sensitive? And if I am, does that point me down a path of loneliness, bitterness, allegations, misogyny and, finally, murder?

I hope not. But who wins when hope runs into logic?

Another Great Commercial On TV Right Now: American Express's "Smiley Face"

All my life I've noticed faces in everyday objects.  That's why AmEx's "Smiley Face" spot seems so inspired to me.  And it is perfectly accompanied by Yo Yo Ma's performance of Bach's "Prelude from Suite No. 1 in G Major," where the melancholy first half is played under a series of sad faces, but then happy faces show up to ride the joyous second half.  Classical music is heard a lot in commercials, but not this effectively.  This spot always puts a smile to my face, and it even touches my heart a little:

The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey

#0: Gopher volleyball (Last Week: -1). They probably will lose tonight to Texas. And if they somehow pull off a miracle win out of their asses, they almost certainly will lose in the title game against 100-win straight, three-peat-wanting Penn St. That means a perfunctory season-ending -Infinity in next week's WMNSS. And yet, even though I'm a championship-or-bust guy, I have to say that this season has been a success. Their path through the bracket made me think they had a better chance to get to the Final Four than your usual 11-seed. But I witnessed them rip through Colorado St. and Florida St. in taking the regional. Only mental lapses stopped them from sweeping both matches. They were that good.

Think of this as the most unlikely of the three Final Four teams Minnesota has ever sent to the last weekend. They were going into this season as a Final Four team only to lose big games against similar competition (Nebraska and two teams they should've faced in the NCAA Tournament if not for upsets, Washington and Oregon), they flat-out didn't play in a few conference road games, they were ritually sacrificied by the Lady Lions, and their best player, Brook Dieter, quit the team in October. And yet, somehow, they look like the hottest and the most defensively-disciplined team going into Tampa. They have Outside Hitter Tabitha Love, the region's Most Outstanding Player, although I would've given it to Setter Taylor Carico for her incredible ball control. And this week the AVCA named Middle Blocker Lauren Gibbemeyer a First-Team All-American. I hope they go all the way, but even every set they win is a cherry on top of a sundae they (and not I) expected to eat at the beginning of the season.

#-1: Vikings (Last Week: -10). Well, this is the way you bounce back after a dominated loss: A thorough thrasing of a pretty good team (at least by record) at home. I really did think the loss started a semi-slide for the Vikes, and I expected them to win a fistfight with the Bengals (BTW, RIP, Chris Henry). But it didn't turn out that way.

Don't know how I feel about the way they won. Their defense choked the life out of Cincy. But Adrian Peterson wasn't explosive despite scoring two touchdowns. Worse, Brett Favre had a second consective bad day throwing the ball (17-30-192-1-1), not dispelling strong evidence that his arm just poops out at the end of the year. This is the point where the running and the defense are supposed to step up and show the world this is a complete team. Still, #4 has to show he can step up and regulate, and right now he barely registers as a game manager. Can he get back on track Sunday night in Charlotte against the Panthers (BTW, again, RIP, Chris Henry)?

#-2: Gopher women's hockey (Last Week: -9). Similarly to the Vikings, the Goph lady pucksters put their lost weekend behind them by going up to Grand Forks and taking a pair from North Dakota. Freshma Megan Bozek was named WCHA Rookie Of The Week for scoring twice and assisting twice in the two-game road sweep. The team finishes the first half of the season with three losses and a tie -- good, but again, let's see how they do in the tournament, assuming they get there. Squad's down for the year.

#-3: Gopher wrestling (Last Week: -8). Sometimes I wonder if a program in a non-revenue sport, like Northern Colorado in wrestling, wonders if it's worth even existing after the sixth-ranked Gophers tear them a new one Sunday afternoon, 41-3. Leave the sport to the big boys, you know? Heavyweight Ben Berhow was named Big Ten Player Of The Week for his dominating performances here and against Nebraska last Thursday. Better yet, it looks like J Robinson has absorbed the heat of his real estate business dealings with his graduated players -- for now. Done till just before the New Year.

#-4: Gopher men's hockey (Last Week: -7). Holy shit, is that the Gopher men's hockey team on a winning streak? Of three??? Well, I guess you're likely to do that when you're Michigan Tech, both by 3-2 scores, although they needed a last-minute goal to win the first game. Nevertheless, I still doubt the heart and effort of this team. If they could only muster one-goal wins against Michigan Tech, what does that say about them going up against teams in the second half of the season? Maybe taking Winter Break will shake them of their doldrums.

#-5: Gopher men's basketball (Last Week: -3). Two more cupcakes, two more blowout wins. Was there for the last 35 minutes of their Saturday afternoon ass-kicking of St. Joseph's. This team looks poised and deep, even if the Hawks are not having a very good year. They still haven't proved that they can win a game against a good team, and with the Big 10 down this year, their bark may be bigger than their bite.

But the big news may be the announcement today that prized in-state recruit Royce White will not join the team and in fact won't play college ball. He is alleged to have stolen a laptop from a dorm room last month and has been suspended for the time being, which apparently was enough for him to quit. See his side of the story on YouTube -- and he threw in a jab of Head Coach Tubby Smith, and raps, too! Will this affect the team? One game this week: home to South Dakota St. on Wednesday.

#-6: Wild (Last Week: -2). Their lame start to the year is now ovah. Even though they dropped a one-goal decision at Vancouver, they made up for it with an OT win at Calgary and then held on for a 2-1 win at home over Columbus. Guy Latendresse has been a revelation since leaving Montreal. And Mikko Koivu will replace Marian Gaborik as the Next Great Wild. They have another four games this week: at Montreal (Latendresse's stomping ground and the new home of former Wild pick Benoit Pouliot) tonight, at Ottawa Saturday, then hosting Colorado Monday and Edmonton Wednesday.

#-7: Gopher women's basketball (Last Week: -5). Sure, they crushed Santa Clara. But it's that 17-point home loss to Iowa St. that should really be bothersome. So what if the Cyclones hit 57% from the field -- if you're a legitimate team, you should be able to at least not be embarrassed at home. They end their non-conference schedule with four losses, which definitely is middle-of-the-pack. They're done with b-ball for the next dozen days.

#-8: Timberwolves (Last Week: -6). A 1-3 week, and because they took a second victory from Utah, on the road, I'm going to call this week progress. Jonny Flynn could be lost in the Triangle, but his game-winning drive and layup with three seconds left against the Bastard New Orleans Jazz showed fans that he is the slasher point this franchise needed for a decade. The heart still may or may not be there, of course, as evidenced by their putrid 25-point loss at home to the Clippers -- the Clippers!!! -- but if there is any logic in this world, the worst playing is behind them. By the way, a friend said he had a free ticket to last night's game. I would've taken it, but thank God he decided not to call me.

However, he does have a comp ticket for tomorrow's match against the Bastard Cincinnati Royals and Tyreke Evans, the Point Guard taken two spots before Flynn. Right now he's outplaying Flynn, and he's bringing the Kings to the apex of .500. We'll see if they're going to be punished for their poor lottery luck. The Woofie Dogs also visit KG and Boston Sunday, host Atlanta Tuesday, and visit New Jersey Wednesday.

And by the way, I need to show the clip of Corey Brewer emasculating Derek Fisher in the Wolves' loss to the Bastard Minneapolis Lakers last Wednesday night. This was awesome, and for now stands as The Only Productive Thing Corey Brewer Has Done In His NBA Career:

I'm Fucking Gonna Kill My Father

Should've known he would stay home after having teeth implants. Don't know why, but he did. And he fuckin' woke my ass up today while I was sound asleep at 11. Asked me if I was awake; I lied and said yes. He asked me if I brushed my teeth and showered and washed my face; I lied and said yes. He threatened me that, "If I were out on my own I would appreciate this more." Fuck you, old man, I do appreciate it, you're just never happy no matter what I do so I don't do anything. And goddammit, what the fuck do you care if I wake up at 9 or not???

I'm fucking gonna kill him. He's staying home again today and has threatened to wake me up at 10 every day. Fucker's making me alter my schedule. Now I have to wake up -- and leave in the morning.

Fucking gonna kill him.

Last week I scheduled an appointment for "work" on Monday because my "boss" says we can't meet on Friday because they're renovating her workplace. I need the money. Bad.

Then I learned Sunday that a snowstorm's coming in. Not as bad as last week's eight-incher (?), but enough where I'd have to plow. Shit. And since this was scheduled to be at 11 Monday, I'd have to wake up at 9, an hour earlier than planned. But I need the money. Bad.

Shouldn't have stayed up to write that article, but I did. Fell asleep around 5:30. At this point, in my mind, I didn't know if I could get up so early. I also didn't know if I really, really wanted to go to work now. So I gave myself an out: I set up the alarm on my phone but not the clock, so it'd be easier to ignore if I (actually, my body) decided to not really care about "work."

I open my flip phone to turn off the alarm at 9 and give myself a few minutes. Next thing I know I told myself to wake up. I look at my phone again; it was 10:45. Felt incredibly shitty to make my "boss" schedule an appointment when I didn't even bother to show up. And I still needed the money. Bad. But, immature brat that I am, I chalk it up to the snowstorm. If I didn't have to plow it, I'd wake up at 10 and I'd feel as fresh as a daisy and able to get to work. Maybe.

Most Unique Commercial On The Air Right Now: Levi's "O Pioneers!"

I prefer the more common :30 version; Walt Whitman's poem ends at a powerful and definitive verse in that one. But these days you don't see an ad be so defiantly about something all to its own. It doesn't pander, yet it doesn't try to be so unique that it strikes an indulgent or self-congratulatory tone. It's stark and makes you wonder what exactly it's trying to say. More importantly, you don't shake off what it's trying to make you think about Levi's jeans:

Customers' Christmas Shopping Rudeness Today

Went to Best Buy to talk to the guys at Geek Squad about wireless configuration.  While I was getting help from a worker, the worker next to him asks what I presume is a guy waiting behind me, "Can I help you?"  I never turned around, but this guy stared at what I believe was this person for a while.  Didn't hear a word.  Turned around and saw no one in the area where the worker was looking at.

I assume there was someone there waiting in line and he just decided to leave.  No, "no, I'm good" or "Ah, never mind?"  What an asshole.

Then I went to LensCrafters to debate whether I wanted to ask if they took insurance for new lenses.  I saw a worker talk to a guy wearing a Niners pleather jacket.  While she's in the middle of answering his question, I see him abruptly walk away from her and leave the store.  No goodbyes or excuse mes, he was looking at her while she was talking to him and he just turned around and walked away.  I give her the same look I gave the Geek Squad guy: "What the fuck is a matter with him?"

I'm no fan of customer service because oftentimes they suck.  But I don't like rudeness regardless of where it comes from, and today, possibly because we're in the middle of Christmas shopping season, it was coming from regular customer assholes. 

My Heart Was Broken Tonight

Went to a burlesque show after the volleyball matches tonight.  One stripper I know told me she was in the troupe and invited me.  She's cute -- petite, almond-shaped eyes, sexy as hell and nice to talk to.  And I'm serious, her act as an acrobat is the best part of the show, hot girls stripping included.

Tonight was the third time I went to her company's show.  It was three sets instead of two, and it was really, really cold outside, so I decided to leave early.  She saw me, kissed me on the cheek and said hi.  She's awesome.  She understood that I wanted to take off before her second performance in the third act.  She's so awesome I know I would feel guilty if I pulled out my dick on her the next time I see her at her place of work.

I was watching an act on the side of the house closer to the exit.  She was there talking to a friend.  Or, maybe more than a friend.  While there was a puppeteer onstage, this "friend" started rubbing her neck and gliding his hand down her back.  Oh shit, she has a boyfriend.  That breaks my heart.  Come on, how can a stripper have a boyfriend?

And yet she saw me and walked back to me and thanked me for coming.  That may be just good business relations, but it's the right thing to do and it works.  I just feel bad that she, uh, has somebody.

This reminds me of arguably not only the most underrated animated film in recent times, but one of the most underrated films in recent times, period: Disney's The Hunchback Of Notre Dame.  There was one scene near the end where Igor saves the love of his life, only to see her run to her Prince Charming.  Igor slinks back into the bell tower, wondering why his expression of true love was rejected so coldly.  And his gargoyle friends basically say that you should love someone even if they don't love you back.  That is the most grown-up lesson I've ever heard in a movie, and it's a children's movie.

Remembering that, I'm now not so sad that she has another.

Thought I had to go to "work," but I didn't, and yet I got paid because my boss said she screwed up.  I got paid for nothing, but I have nothing to do for two hours.

Well, I now have time for a movie.  But should I make sure I just get the tickets the games tonight now?  They'll be open till 5.  What if there's a line?  Oh well, I thought, I need the walking.  So I go from my "job" to the ticket office, then my car.  It took a good 40 minutes.

When driving to the shopping mall about 10 minutes away, it was 2.  First game starts at 5.  I do want to get there a little early, and I don't want to pay for parking, so I have to shut off my car at ... 4?  What movies are out there that are only two hours long -- and starts a little after 2?  There was absolutely no way I could get to a movie after deciding to pick up my tickets now rather than just before the game.  Why did I even think I could?

Went immediately to the theater after reaching the mall, which is on the very other end of where I parked.  I wanted to see what I could've seen if I decided to head straight the movies.  They have those electronic signs that update after it's too late to see the previous screening, fucking technology.  So I went to the Apple store and looked it up instead.  If I got here a bit before 2 -- possible -- I could have seen The Fantastic Mr. Fox or The Princess And The Frog, both animated movies that critics say are really good.

Dammit, I made the wrong choice.  The only positive I can take from this is that I didn't spend $6.50.

I'm Feeling Very Unstable Tonight

It all started with the snowstorm last night.  I wasn't able to start the snowblower for some reason.  Moreover, the shovels were in the padlocked shed in the back ... and I misplaced the key.

Called my parents.  Father was beyond pissed.  When he came home, he completely ignored me and just took a shower.  Mother told me he was absolutely livid coming home.  I went outside and the snowblower finally worked; I just had to plug it in a little longer.

At dinner, I started to apologize when My Fucking Father finally erupted: "I hate people who are stupid and lazy!"  He didn't know the claim forms and computer set-up I did for him.  But he's violent this way.  Mother tried to calm him down, but he hasn't spoken to me since.  One simple fucking mistake. ...

Tonight, while trying to get the old computer to work, Mother came in and started peppering me with questions about my health insurance -- "Got your checkup yet?"  "Have you seen a doctor?"  "Been to the dentist yet?"  If I wasn't concentrating on the computer, I would've been able to lie and say I have.  But I didn't.  She told me that renewal for my insurance comes up in April and I need to do it before that comes up, just in case.  She even volunteered to set up the appointments for me.  Mother meant well, but after the shit that happened last night, it felt like she was ridin' my ass, too.

There's always this weight/noise in my head, wherever I go.  It might have come on the last few years because of my lack of unemployment/direction, but it's heavy and large nowadays, and it was pounding and incessant earlier tonight.  I was facing a cold, cold winter and the prospect of running into a wall of ... nothing.  Nothing I wanted to do in life (still), yet nothing if I do do something.  There was nothing to look forward to.  There still isn't.

As self-defense in case My Fucking Father really flipped out on me tonight, this afternoon I took one of the knives and put it underneath my pillows.  If he ever dared bust through my bedroom door and come after me, I would have a weapon on me.  And at the very least I would have a chance at defending myself.

The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey

#-1: Gopher volleyball (Last Week: -2). Well, my worst fears didn't materialize. In fact, they overcome the stumble of the loss of a set in their first-round match against Louisville to dominate host Tennessee to make it to the Sweet 16, a regional of which will be held in Minneapolis. I was fully prepared to see the Gophers lose in either round. Now, I feel a bit more comfortable dreaming that they could actually make it to the Final Four. Not only are they playing in front of their home crowd, but they first face Colorado St., which upset the sixth-seed (and my pick to make it to the Final Four), Washington, but they could also potentially face Florida St. in the Elite Eight. While the Seminoles are formidable, they don't have the pedigree nor the big-game experience either on the squad or in the coaching team to ensure they'll live up to their seed. Then again, they could be blitzed by the Rams in three. Whatever the case, I'll be there!

#-2: Wild (Last Week: -1). This team actually go 3-1? Only a road blemish against the Bastard Winnipeg Jets prevented this team from a spotless week. Nevertheless, they won two of three on the road and now for sure have turned the corner on the awful start to their season. Guess this Guilluame Latendresse is doing wonders. Two more on the road against division-mates Calgary and Vancouver, then finally home (after five games and 10 days) for a game against the suddenly-powerful Columbus Blue Jackets.

#-3: Gopher men's basketball (Last Week: -7). Yes, they won both their games this week. But Brown and Morgan St.? They get very qualified credit for those wins. Guess you need to walk before you can run, but for a Tubby Smith-led team, this should be beneath them. They should face stiffer competition with home games against St. Joseph's Saturday afternoon and Northern Illinois Tuesday night.

#-4: Lynx (Re-Entry!). Hey, did you know that the team just hired a new coach, their third in just over a year? I thought Jen Gillom was excited to lead the team! Turns out she was a liar! Meet Cheryl Reeve, a longtime assistant for Bill Laimbeer when they coached the Detroit Shock just before they were stolen away to Tulsa. There are two reasons they're ranked so high this week: 1) Very mediocre competition, and 2) the Lynx still exist as a franchise!

#-5: Gopher women's basketball (Last Week: -4). Destroying Idaho St. doesn't prove anything except that you did what you were supposed to do. Defeating Penn St. is nice, but it's not like this is a Rene Portland-led team; now, that group of (heterosexual) players could ball. No, what I look to as most indicative of the strength of this team is the 21-point loss at Maryland (and to the coach which helped rise this program from the dead, Brenda [Oldfield] Frese) last Thursday. This team is skating by its Final Four appearance for way too long. Two final games this week before they head off for winter break: hosting Iowa St. Sunday afternoon and hosting Santa Clara Wednesday night. Hope they get to "study" somewhere inbetween those games for their finals.

#-6: Timberwolves (Last Week: -6). The Star Tribune commented that this squad doesn't lose big early anymore; they now lose close late. That's progress? Their three losses this week have been by, respectively, 9, 6, and 1, the latter being a heartbreaker on a give-and-go to Chris Paul of the Bastard Charlotte Hornets. However, they did beat Utah Saturday night! This must mean that the middle part of the regular season, where the internal doldrums begin and players start to space out, has begun; if the Bastard New Orleans Jazz were focused, they would've won by 15. This week: three on the road (Lakers, Sacramento, and the Jazz), then hosting the Bastard Buffalo Braves Wednesday.

#-7: Gopher men's hockey (Last Week: -5). Another damn split, this time with MSU-Mankato, a home-and-home series with the road team winning both. A friend of mine has season tickets, and he told me that beyond Tony Lucia, the captain and the coach's son, no one is showing any heart. I agree, so let it be said: There should be no charges of nepotism because he's actually the only player on this fucking team playing like he goddamn cares. Seriously, MSU-Mankato??? They finish off the first half of their season this weekend at Michigan Tech. Hope for a split.

#-8: Gopher wrestling (Last Week: -3). This time used to be on top. Although Oklahoma St. is also a very good program, I remember back in the halcyon days of J Robinson's team that they would defeat the Cowboys with regularity. Not anymore; the fifth-ranked Gophs got clobbered by #3 Okie St. 21-8. They did come back to defeat Nebraska (#12) at home tonight, 28-14. But that came the day of a shocking story by the campus paper, the Minnesota Daily. The article accuses Robinson of selling and renting properties out to his players months after he graduated. He's done it, like, 55 times to the tune of $3 million total value. Robinson, a maverick who years ago was very vocal about his hate for Title IX and even caused some controversy for putting his objections to it in the match programs, might not weather this storm now that U. Athletic Director Joel Maturi has announced an investigation into his dealings. And this story is getting traction tonight; I just saw the news posted on USA Today's website. Robinson might not survive this -- especially if his grapplers keeps on getting pancacked by powerhouses like Okie St.

#-9: Gopher women's hockey (Last Week: 0). This might be the only week this season the men's team did better than the women's. But in a sign that this powerful program will certainly fall short in their quest for a title this year, they were completely shut out in a tie and loss at Harvard last week. Yes, the Crimson were ranked ninth in the polls when they played the Gophers, but the Gophers were second. And they played like #2, even if Noora Räty was named WCHA Co-Defensive Player Of The Week for the second straight time. She shouldn't get an award if she doesn't win once, brilliant as though she may be. They are done for the rest of the year after two at North Dakota this weekend.

#-10: Vikings (Last Week: Positive Numbers). Ah, now this, this is the beginning of the end. It's not the loss that's so disturbing as much as the way they lost, a thorough 30-17 pounding at the hands of the Bastard Chicago Cardinals. They got no pass rush, every bomb Kurt Warner through found its way into the hands of his receiver, and, worst of all, Adrian Peterson was bottled up. That meant that Brett Favre had to take an even larger role in the offense than he usually does. That wasn't really great when they were winning, but he was winging it at all times Sunday, to diminishing returns. This is the time of year where Favre's arm starts to lose its effectiveness, and with a game this week versus Cincinnati, it couldn't come at a worse time. Plus, three of the starters in the secondary might be out for the game. This could be another air raid on the Vikes -- and that means that people might follow me off the bandwagon.

A Horrible Case Of Medicine Advertising

I watch the evening news a lot.  I might be the youngest person to watch the evening news.

Two things that are getting annoying.  First, they all break at the exact same time.  Don't know if their research indicates that's the best way to keep ratings or if there's an unspoken code that whatever viewers each network has each network keeps by going to commercial at the same time.  But I want news, and three times a half-hour I don't get it.

The other thing, however, is worse: all the drug commercials.  All those stupid ads with the narrator rattling off a long list of warnings.  That's it's been around for a decade doesn't make it less weird.

But worst of all is what happened on Monday, I believe.  My worst nightmares came together.  All three network news programs broke for the final time in the evening ... and they all aired the same goddamn ad at the same time.  It was fucking unreal.  Swear to God, I've seen the same spot (and I will not name the drug; they don't deserve more attention) on two of the networks at once, but the time I switched to the third channel and saw it again, I thought I didn't change the channel.  But I checked ... all three channels were showing the same fucking thing.

You fucking kidding me?!?!

My Grandmother The Hoverer

After buying groceries to hunker down for the blizzard, I stayed at home.  Since the 'Rents were at work, I had the dining room table all to myself so I could write and work on these claim forms for them.

My Grandmother often walks around and sees what we're doing if we're not cooped up in our beds.  I want her to feel like she can talk to me because there is no else at home.  But sometimes she meddles in things when I just want her to leave the things around me be.

So she came out of her bedroom and saw me doing some things.  She asked me about ... something I didn't understand.  I love her, but swear to Buddha, 75% of the things we talked about my whole life I have not understood at all.  And this time it was 100%, although I was too busy to pay too much attention to her.  She went back to her bedroom.

I had to pack up because even though I told my parents I own a laptop, I still don't want them to see me working on my laptop -- I just think it creates more problems for me if they see that.  But when I was putting my computer away, I couldn't find the bubble wrap I use to protect my mouse.  Oh, shit.

I went to the kitchen trash.  There it was, a little envelope of bubble wrap.  I picked it up, but it was too late; there was something small and black sticking to one corner of it.  Yeah, it landed on something wet and nasty.  Poor little bubble wrap was gone.

When I was young I would've run to my Grandmother's room and starting yelling, "Why did you throw this away?  This was mine, I needed this!"  But I've matured (a little) and I learned that there's nothing to be gained by screaming and her for something she just does, even if it is kind of annoying.  Also, to be a little less mature, the way she would react would just piss me off even more.  So I decided to drop the subject.

Until I saw her walking out yet for no discernible reason again.  Look, she was there, I had the opportunity.  So I walked over to the kitchen just as she was throwing something in the trash.  I acted like I saw something familiar in there, and then I reached in and grabbed the bubble wrap.

(in Chinese) "Grandmother, I was looking for this."

"Oh!  Wash it, wipe it off with a towel."

"Ah, no, it's too dirty.  I'll deal."

That was my subconscious way of "getting back at her."  If I were a real man, I wouldn't half-ass it.  I would either retrieve the bubble wrap and clean it off myself without trying to make her feel bad, or not bring up the subject at all.

But no, I have my principles.

Three True (Final) Tales Of San Francisco

1) Were kind of in a panic as we headed into the airport. We already had printed out our boarding passes but needed to know which gate to go to. The check-in line was long, and since we were flying on Sun Country, an airline that didn't have its own bank of departure and arrival TV's, we didn't know where to go.

So I go up to this worker helping out a guy in a wheelchair. He's young, and by the way he rested his hands on his hips and slouched that he wasn't projected a positive customer service image.

But I surmised this too late. I sidled up to him before taking stock of his body language when he said, "Can I help you?"

I thought I could figure it out, and sure as hell didn't want to get passive-aggressively smacked down by this shit who'd rather not work there. "No, I'm OK."

"You sure?"

"Yeah." And I slink back to my mom. We look down both ends of the airport -- no signs anywhere. It was getting close to that half-hour "gate closing" time where they say they won't take any more passengers. So I had no choice. I slunk back to this guy.

"Actually, I do have a question. Where's the gate for Sun Country flight sumpin'-sumpin'?"

"Gate 32," he said, nonchalantly, hand on his hip the whole time.

I know he was chuckling to himself inside for being able to ridicule me. Quit being an airport helper, you fucking dickwad.

2) We get to the gate. More chaos. People are laying about anywhere, even though there seems to be no delays.

My Mother wanted to try and get seats closer to the front. I don't give a shit, but I wanted to be good to Mom, so I went up to the busy gate agent and asked if there's any way we could move up.

She starts doing her thing on the computer -- by the way, why are the monitors at these airport gates still huge? Don't they have enough money for flat screens, at all? They've come down in recent years, to the point where even airlines can buy them in bulk for cheap. Anyway, she starts looking and says, after some typing, "It's a 3x3 ... "

I say something innocuous, something like, "OK, any seats you see available?"

"You wait. I haven't signed in yet."

Well, shit, ma'am, if you're telling me that this plane has 3-by-3 seating, I fucking assumed you're already logged in. I guess I was being too presumptuous. You give me some detail about the fucking plane, I thought you were ready to give me more details about the plane, like whether or not we could change our seats. But I'm sorry, I'll wait until you get your fat goddamn fingers around to punching in your username and password. We just have a flight we're about to board, and we don't want to be stuck in the ass end of the plane. But you take your time. Just know that it ain't gonna help once we actually sit our asses down, OK? So don't speak until the AOL Voice says, "You got mail," then you might be prepared to tell me if we can move up.

By the way, the flight was full and we couldn't move up.

Swear to Buddha, San Francisco had the surliest people I've seen anywhere. Liberal cities are just filled with assholes and bitches.

3) I may have blogged that last paragraph in an earlier post. And at the risk of repeating myself again, I want to say this: My Mom really wasn't speaking to me up until just before this trip because she was somehow mad at me for going to my sister's wedding. The trip went swimmingly, we got along and talked, we just didn't talk about "them," besides one little comment about how my brother-in-law seems to be taking care of her just fine.

My Mother and I were fine during the trip, too. We just didn't get anything solved when it comes to why she flipped out on me.

My Weird Day With My Father

Spent as much time in the vicinity of My Fucking Father than I have in, well, years.  He pissed me off, and then he also treated me well, and so I gave him both reactions in return.  I guess this is what a normal relationship with your father looks like.

I came home last night seeing a huge pail on a dining room chair.  It had dirty water in it.  Besides that being fucking gross -- he complains about me keeping my room dirty and yet he lets brown water sit on a dining room chair the whole night? -- that set my plans for tomorrow.  Man, I hoped he would be in a good mood so I could just lie in the filth of my bed and watch football all day.  But now I had to, gulp, fuckin' clean.

Oh well.  They erected the LCD TV I bought at Target Black Friday, so I might as well watch there as I blog and clean the plant of dust.  One of the big reasons I haven't started cleaning the house or my room is, pains me to say it, I don't know how.  I mean, there's a formula you use for the cleaning solution; you don't use water.  But what do you use?  Detergent?  Dish soap?  Windex?  Just water?  And how much water do you carry?  And where are the rags?  And when do you dispose of the water and get new water?

In the end I just went downstairs, grabbed a pail and turned on the water.  I was wiping the leaves of the plant while watching football, with some broom-and-pan work and some taking-the-pop-out-of-my-car-and-put-it-outside-the-refrigerator work sprinkled in.  That was working well, and I was feeling productive, so I decided to do something that had been bugging me for some time: I finally cleaned my air vent and the dust and shit that settled on the bottom.  Man, it really felt good to get all that stuff out of there and wipe it clean.  Now I won't think that I'm breathing crap when the heat turns on.

I didn't finish before my parents came home, and it was a somewhat strategic move.  I didn't think Father was going to be in a good mood.  I don't like to be manipulated into doing things by non-verbal messages such as a left-out pail of dirty water, but I didn't want to hear any bullshit from him about not cleaning.  So I left it out to show him that I did do something this afternoon.

That's when he started to ... well, not piss me off but exasperate me.  I had the broom and dustpan out.  He saw it, then told me to move some of the furniture around, but not before cleaning the floor under it.  "You want me to wipe it down?" I ask him.  "No, just sweep," he said.  I did all that.  OK, you're home, you're not angry, I can drain the water downstairs and take a nap, right?

No.  While I was finishing cleaning my vent, he took the pail of dirty water, walked across the way to the living room (which we rarely use) and starts wiping everything down.  What is he doing?  It may not have been the cleanest, but it certainly didn't need a wipe-down right that second (although this is coming from a guy who can live in filth for a long time).  But that's exactly what he did.

Now, another reason why I never cleaned around the house is because I hated the thought of doing it alone.  There's so much space to cover, so much shit you have to move around, and if you really want to do a good job, you'll have to devote a large amount of your time.  It's football season, so, no, maybe I'll do it in the summer.  However, if there's someone there to share the burden, someone that could halve the time it takes to complete such an arduous task, it's that much more tolerable.  And I really didn't want him to do all of this alone.

So, I joined in.  It was no fun spending time working on my hands and knees, getting into places I don't think I crawled in since I was a kid.  But there was a lot of dust in the corners of the living room, especially under and on the piano.  Not anymore, even though what we did was a half-ass job.

Done!  No, not so fast.  My Fucking Father then went back to the other side, the side where we moved all the furniture, and started washing the entire fucking floor over there -- even the areas where he told me to just sweep.  Why are you going back there?  I felt I had no choice but to help out, so I went to the other corner and started scrubbing away at the somewhat-nasty area in front of the back door, where all the show tracks were.

Meanwhile, Father was really getting into it.  He took the dishwasher soap from the kitchen and poured in onto the floor!  Can you do that?  Is that what dishwasher soap is intended for?  Then he grabbed the steel wool and started scraping away and Buddha-knows-what at where the floor meets the wall, all along the wall.  Then, without sarcasm, he says, "See?  If you clean, you feel good."  You fucking kidding me?  ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!?!?!  I knew My Fucking Father was strange, moody, even juvenile at times, but this is a different new low altogether.

I had to dial it back at this point; if he says that and means it, I can't ever clean to a level that'll make him happy.  And since I basically ran out of places that would even merit a second thought to clean, I stopped.  Throughout this afternoon he told me to get away from him or stop and watch football, and he does this by repeating it very quickly: "nonononono," or "don'tworrydon'tworrydon'tworry," or "OKOKOKOKOKOK," or "stopstopstopstopstop."  I couldn't really stop until I realized you love to clean shit, Dad.

But eventually he did stop, the sign where I knew he would being when he took that fucking pail downstairs and didn't come back up with it -- but not before cleaning the stairs.  I actually thought about cleaning the stairs too, so I did a little, prompting Father to again say, "nononononono."  Maybe it was because I was doing the same thing he was, but he quickly took the pail away.

I didn't quite know what to do at that point.  I hovered around him so long, and dinner was about ready, so when he sat down on the chair that was moved to that new spot, I sat on a dining room chair and we both watched football for a half-hour.  He wasn't being a dick; he actually talked about some things going on in the game.  And I responded normally.  It was like a father and son watching the game on a Sunday afternoon.  I don't think I've done that in a long time.  It was actually quite pleasant.

But then during dinner my Grandmother came home and gave me $100 because she won a lot of my at the casino this afternoon.  And then My Fucking Father shot me and said, "Why are you taking that?  You don't need the money.  Give it back to her!"  Unlike you, I listen to what she has to say, and besides, she still does owe me money.  Asshole.  Good thing my mom stepped in and said to hold onto it until she asks you for more money.  He dropped the subject and talked about football again.  Good to know you're not holding on to things, dad.  I'm even starting to believe you.

And then he showed off even more of his moods later when he needed to copy his Medicare card.  He destroyed a copy he did have when he forgot to take it out of his jeans before washing them.  But the copier/printer we had was out of ink.  He didn't know how to change it, so I had to come down -- right before the plane crashed on Desperate Housewives -- and change the ink cartridges for him.  I rushed myself just because I didn't want to be judged in case he didn't like what he did, and sure enough, I screwed up.  There were these orange stays that held up the notches you push to slide the cartridges into place.  The cartridges didn't fit in exactly where they should have, and now I couldn't pull them back up because those stays jammed them in there.  So I had to get My Father, who used a screwdriver to pry them out.  I didn't tell him what I did wrong, but he figured it out.  He didn't yell at me, and in a sign of our thawing relations, I don't think he thought bad of me, either.

But it still didn't work.  The magenta worked fine and the yellow seemed to be OK, but there was no black.  He waved me off again, saying, as usual, "OKOKOKOK, ItakecareItakecareItakecare," so I went back upstairs to see the Vikings lose, only to hear him yell at Mother, who was kind of taunting him, and so I went back downstairs.

He wanted to copy his Medicare card now, and badly, even though Mother told me they could easily do it with the fax at the store tomorrow.  There was some ridicule on her part, but I kind of took my father's side because he was right in being somewhat exasperated that it wouldn't copy.  We fucked around with it, didn't work, and then we stopped.

Until 10:30, when I wanted to try just one more time.  And soon as I fuckin' sat my ass down, out comes My Father like Lassie to Timmy, telling me what he now thinks is the problem.  He was nice to me because he wanted something, but I think I got it to the point where it would totally copy the card, even though it came out rosy red.  Good enough for Mom, who cut out the copy and stuffed it into the envelope, and so I went upstairs to see the last 10 minutes of Seinfeld, 20 minutes after I planned to quitl

I didn't realize until I typed that last paragraph that he was acting like a helpless child following me to the computer room when I tried to fix the printer/copier again.  He couldn't do it himself.  But at least he wasn't being a prick.

Went to roller derby tonight.  Guy sat next to me for a few minutes, then left.  He left a pack of cigarettes sitting on the chair next to me.  Hmmm.  They're expensive, so maybe I should take them.  It'd be a waste if I just left them, you know?

Put the box out while working on my laptop at the coffeehouse later this evening.  Cute girl whom I see working at the coffee shop takes my empty white hot chocolate cup and says, "Can I buy a cigarette from you?"

Here's my chance to spread some good karma: "You know, I don't smoke.  I went to a roller derby bout tonight.  You can take 'em."

Thanks and you're so awesome, etc.  I felt good to spread some good.  But now I wonder -- she did offer to buy a cig from me.  I thought no one would ask about the box I laid on my table, to be honest.  I thought I'd just ask the girls working if any of them wanted cigs.  But to be offered money ... should I have just sold her one?  When she thanked me for the box she told me she had no money, but come to think of it, I have no money either.  Maybe I should've just gone with it and taken the money.

This is why I am poor.  I just can't make money when I'm perfectly OK giving stuff away.

What Happened To Walgreens?

I needed to get medicine for My Father and for some reason it wasn't ready and he couldn't get it by himself.  Whatever.

I drive through to pick up some Ambien for him.  Assistant girl first said they put the Ambien back because no one got it for a week.  Bullshit.  First of all, my father's an addict.  He'd be jonesing for it so much that he would camp out at the Walgreens before it opened to get it.  And you have our contact number.  If no one got the medicine, why the fuck wouldn't you call?

After she needed to talk to her pharmacist boss, she came back and told me I could get the Ambien, but I'd have to pay $200.  I've actually been told this by this Walgreens before, so I said hell no.  So then this lazy bitch tells me I should ask if my dad could ask his doctor to get him a prescription for a generic.  Isn't that your fucking job?  She kind of said that they'll do all they can.  Again, whatever.  I leave.

I have to say that Father wasn't that helpful either.  That night he told me that it wasn't Ambien but, in fact, a generic that he's supposed to get.  Why the fuck couldn't you tell me that earlier?

Confused, I called Walgreens the next day.  I got the pharmacist who sounded either like he didn't want to work there or was stoned out of his goddamn mind.  I asked him questions about what specifically the "script" said for my dad, and he mumbled, literally mumbled, that maybe they needed to check with the doctor in case they fucked something up.  Of course you did, sir.

So I called again a couple days later.  I got a similarly somnabulant idiot on the phone.  Asked her if Father's sleeping pills are ready to pick up.  The line goes completely silent before she stammers out of her mouth a "Yes."  Seriously, you cannot say "yes" quieter or more unintelligible than this dumbfuck.  But it cost only $11 for this bastard Ambien.

Really, Walgreens close to my house, fuck you and your fucked customer service.  You people don't give a shit, but it's too goddamn bad because you deal with medicine -- you know, stuff people rely on to live.  If you're, like, a carnival worker, I probably can't say much.  If you're a blogger, no one can really touch you on your behavior.  But if you're dispensing pills, maybe you want to take act just a tad more courteous when dealing with your customers.  And call them when they're goddamn pills are ready, like you're supposed to.  And fucking speak up like a normal person.

My fucking God, I think I'll have to change where I get my medicine from.

We Were On Such A Nice Run, Father

Father had been acting normal.  Funny, even.  But then he went out to put the trash in the work van for tomorrow.  He should've seen my car outside; I planned to go out after dinner.  I will guess that is what pisses him off, me going off to do stuff.  Don't know why he'd be so mad, he just is.

Anticipating that I at least have to answer him when he asks if I'm going out tonight, he fuckin' threw me a curveball instead: "Have you talked to the U. art appraiser?"  Huh?  Oh yeah -- he's got a lot of painting he thinks are worth a lot, but he needs them appraised.  My sister thought that going to the University of Minnesota and finding a professor to do it -- for free, I'm guessing she and My Father are thinking -- would be the best way to do it.  But it's so inane, I forgot it.

I didn't answer him right away, so he followed up with, essentially, "Get on it."  And then he did another passive-aggressive non-verbal action that pisses me off: He sighs heavily after he talks.  Sometimes it's after he says something in an overly fake nice way, sometimes after he outright complains, but that sigh is unmistakable: You disappoint me for not knowing what I want, when I want it.

Well, shit, Father, you disappoint me for not telling me what you want without being a goddamn bitch about it.  And really, you think an art professor is going to take time out of his schedule to tell someone who's not his student how much a shit painting is worth?  I'll do it when I've run out of other things to waste my time over.  Fuck You, Father.

It's moments like this that remind me why I'm not going to be a dad.

The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey

Positive Numbers: Vikings (Last Week: 0). I once thought that last week's game hosting Chicago would commence the suddenly tough juggernaut that would finish the season. Brett Favre's surgical slicing and dicing of the Bears meant that ... the juggernaut actually begins this Sunday night at the Bastard Chicago/St. Louis Cardinals. I wanted to elevate the Vikes from -1 to 0 to Positive Numbers because this team is rolling as well as the '98 team. But games against Cincinnati and the Giants, plus roadies versus Carolina and the very same Bears in cold Chicago, could derail this train.

And then there's the little problem of being only the second-best team in the NFC. I saw New Orleans and Drew Brees pick apart the New England Patriots Monday like vultures to a carrion, and I'm convinced that they'll go 16-0. This could set up a scenario where the Saints host the Vikings and Brett does to the Who Dats what the fucking Atlanta Falcons did to us at the end of that '98 season. But shit man, those guys are scary. And if we fall victims to the Brees Buzzsaw, why even try with the signing of Favre and the rest of this operation? By the way, speaking of Brett Favre, congratulations to him for being named NFC Offensive Player Of November.

#0: Gopher women's hockey (Last Week: -3). This was at home, if you really want to be a Debbie Downer. But this team has lost to very good teams before at Ridder. So I give the second-ranked Gophs major props for not only sweeping but blanking third-ranked Clarkson last weekend with 4-0 and 2-0 scores. Never heard of this team, let alone how good this team is, so an upstart might have been much easier to push around than an established power. What you can't deny is that Goalie Noora Räty has so far been very excellent this year. In stopping 41 Golden Knights shots over the weekend, she was named Conference Defensive Player Of The Week for the second time this season. This week, possibly a sterner task: a pair at USCHO #9 Harvard.

#-1: Wild (Last Week: -6). After they played like they just wanted to stay in bed all season, this team had undoubtedly the best week of the season so far. Although one game went into overtime and another to a shootout (thereby giving the opponents a point), the Wild went 3-0. They might not have turned the corner, but they've certainly picked themselves off the curb. A gutsy sweep of the home-and-home with the Bastard Quebec Nordiques is a sign that they may have found the passion to play. And I saw a lot of the back-and-forth with Nashville last night; the Predators are a good team, but it was great to see the Wild fly around the ice and respond whenever the team scored a goal. Maybe this is the speed Head Coach Todd Richards was looking for when installing his system. They've got four this week; they get to host Anaheim on Friday before hitting the road for three against Nashville, the Bastard Winnipeg Jets, and those same Bastard Nordiques once again.

#-2: Gopher volleyball (Last Week: -4). They at least finished the season right, sweeping their last two games at home, including one of fifth-ranked Illinois on Senior Night. They thus stabilized their ranking in the AVCA Top 25 to #11 and was given the 11th-overall seed and the third seed in the region they get to host. Whether they get there, however, is a very good question; at 4 o'clock this afternoon they start the NCAA Tournament against Louisville, which won the Big East tournament. If they survive the Cardinals they get to play either Duke, which finished second in the ACC, or Tennessee, an also-ran in the somewhat strong SEC but are hosting this particular pod. The Gophs haven't been playing lights out, so a loss in front of their home crowd for the second straight year is a strong possibility. And having your best hitter quit isn't good. By the way, how in the hell did I not know Brook Dieter quit until six weeks after it happened? Oh yeah -- congrats to Middle Blocker Lauren Gibbemeyer for being named First Team All-Big Ten.

#-3: Wrestling (Re-Entry!). They started off the non-conference, dual meet part of their schedule with a triumphant 31-9 ass-kicking of Cal State Bakersfield. They thus stay in the Top 5 of both the National Wrestling Coaches Association and the InterMat rankings. I for one assume that they'll beat cupcakes that have no overt reason to maintain a wrestling program; it's beating the elite programs, and beating them consistenly (like the Gophers used to), that I and other fans want to see. They will face a test this Friday at Oklahoma St., which is either just ahead or just behind them, depending on which poll you look at.

#-4: Gopher women's basketball (Last Week: -5). There is a gap from the top five teams this week to here. The lady ballers lost handily the Junkanoo Jam final toTop 10 team Xavier in the Bahamas after a five-point escape against TCU this weekend. The shameful loss to Winona St. to start the season aside, where this team is in relation to others is crystallizing rapidly; losses to Utah and Xavier mean they'll be a filler tournament squad at best. Facing Maryland (and former Minnesota coach and sparkplug of the resurrection of the program from the dead, Brenda Oldfield/Friese) at Maryland tonight is a certain loss. Returning home to face Penn St. and Idaho seem like sure victories.

#-5: Gopher men's hockey (Last Week: -7). First these guys are in exodus, then they get injured, then they play like shit, and now it gets all weird. In last weekend's College Hockey Showcase in the state of Michigan, they get introduced to a little bit of prison sex by Michigan, 6-0, their worst beating in 11 years. The next night they decide to bench Goalie Alex Kangas (who seemed fairly in control when I saw him help defeat Bemidji St.) for Kent Patterson and they score a 2-1 upset of seventh-ranked Michigan St. Was it a bad night for the Spartans, or does the win show that the talent is still there to beat really good teams, they just have to expend the effort? They have a home-and-home with MSU-Mankato this weekend, and maybe they should let Patterson take the pipes for this series.

#-6: Timberwolves (Last Week: -9). Well what do you know?! I thought their only opportunity to halt their losing streak was last night versus the Bastard Vancouver Grizzlies, and then they would've tied the mark for longest losing skid. But I'll be goddamned, they averted that fate by going to Denver and defeating the Nuggets, 106-100, Sunday night. Maybe there is some pride on that team. Or this is the first sign of the midseason malaise that infects the entire NBA. I will say that it's more like baseball season than hockey season in that, if you stay awake long enough, you'll see that every game is an instance where you can observe and mark the change and evolution of a team. Real hardcore fans can find something to analyze in every game. In fact, I think that a basketball season is unique in that a group discovers itself without any fan really giving a shit. The Timberwolves could be a glaring exception -- after Ramon Sessions pudded out with two blown free throws that could've tied their game with Memphis, I'll assume losses at the Bastard Charlotte Hornets, vs. the Bastard New Orleans Jazz, at Toronto and vs. New Orleans this week. Those four games are bunched into a pair of back-to-backs where they play on the road one night then come home to play the next. What a fucking schedule.

#-7: Gopher men's basketball (Last Week: -2). They won just one game this week just like the Woofie Dogs. There are many reasons why I put the Gophs at the bottom of this week's survey. First of all, I expect the Wolves to be down here often, so I thought I'd give them a break. Second, this squad technically lost one more game than their pro counterparts. And third, this may sound paradoxical, but I expected so much more from this team than the Timberwolves that I'm much more disappointed with Tubby's squad.

Don't get me wrong; like the Wolves, they went on the road and beat a much more talented team in Butler. But they've run into a three-game skid, strated in the 76 Classic semifinals against, of all fucking teams, Portland. Then they couldn't hit the game-winning shot in the third-place contest against Texas A&M. And now, just last night, they surrender with three minutes left in the game and lose to Miami. (By the way, what is the Gophers' record in the Big Ten/ACC Challenge? Because, for real, I don't remember the team ever beating an ACC team in this setup. If that's really the case, that's fucking embarrassing.) There are still three players who need to sort out their shit and get back on this team, because this team certainly is not living up to their potential now. Fortunately for them, they still have a crap-ass schedule; this week they come home to play against Brown and Morgan St.