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What my musings are all about...

Blogging might well be the 21st century's form of journaling. As a writing teacher, I have always advised my students to keep a daily journal as a way of organizing their thoughts for future writing projects, a discipline I have unfortunately never consistently practiced myself. By blogging, I might finally be able to follow my own good advice.

The difference between journaling and blogging is that the blogger opens his or her writing to the public, something journal- writers are usually reluctant to do. I am not so reticent.

The trick for me will be to avoid cluttering the internet with more blather, something none of us need more of. If I stick to subjects I know: sports and literature, I believe I can avoid that pitfall. I can't promise that I'll not stray from time to time to comment on ancillary subjects, but I will make every attempt to be interesting and perhaps even insightful.

Saturday, July 8, 2017

Shout Sports' Talk Shows and etc

Jamie Horowitz, the godfather of shout sports talk shows, was fired. Hopefully that means that these dreadful, dumb-down shows will soon be off the air. That he was considered a TV genius for putting two "supposedly knowledgeable" sports guys sitting across from each other with a beautiful women in the middle as an arbiter (what a joke) shouting and arguing like a couple of dysfunctional
teenagers, is beyond comprehension. That he is accused of sexual misconduct does not surprise me. We are living in a society in which disrespect and low brow bullying is being accepted as normal behavior. Shouting a lot and being disrespectful to women, what president of the United States does that remind you of? Duh! Republicans, what do you think about this version of the "Trickle Down Effect?"

Sorry for the downer to start, but I'm outraged that our president is cozying up to Russia's Prez, Putin, a KGB killer. Yes, read my lips - KILLER. Make no mistake about it, as a KGB operative, that man has blood on his trigger finger. If anybody believes Putin was a simple KGB bureaucrat, shuffling papers, I've got the Golden Gate Bridge to sell you. In the eyes of many Russians these days, Putin is still killing his adversaries. John McCain had it right when he said, "I looked him [Putin] in the eyes, and I saw three letters: K.G.B."

I'm going to say this only once, a year from now, every person who voted for Donald Trump, except for some hard core fanatics, will regret their vote.

In the midst of such insanity; sports guys shouting at each other, our president. . . (oh the hell with it), there is the purity of sports to consider, The NBA Summer League, a bunch of gifted young men competing against each other to see who will join the ranks of the elites.

Yesterday was the first of the 2017 summer league televised from Las Vegas. Can't wait to comment after checking the games out more. Poor Lonzo Ball got an eye opener. That is one slow and weird looking jump shot he has. Once the real season starts, I can't imagine him getting clear shots off much less hitting them. But there is no doubt, the young man has the ability to facilitate and pass to open teammates. However, my guess is coaches will tell the guy guarding Ball to sluff off and play passing lanes, which sort of negates the kid's ability to penetrate.

The Kings have found their point guard of the future, in DeAaron Fox.  He'll have to earn his stripes, but I see him running the Kings from very early on, with George Hill at the Two to start with. Fox possesses lightning speed, (hands and feet) a great middle distance jumper, floater, and he finishes drives. He's long and is an excellent defender.

The Suns have  a rising star in Josh Jackson. Mike James may be a nice surprise.

I have a couple of terrific son-in-laws, who are fishermen. Here's a small quatrain in honor
of their fishing skills.

And Angling, Too    by Lord Byron  from Don Juan

And angling, too, that solitary vice,
Whatever Izaak Walton sings or says:
The quaint, old, cruel coxcomb, in his gullet
Should have a hook and a small trout to pull it.

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