The US Open, this year at Pebble Beach.
And the College World Series, for the final time at Rosenblatt.
The US Open is my favorite golf tournament. I love the ridiculous course setup that makes six over par a respectable final score. I love Johnny Miller exploiting his greatest (and arguably only) career accomplishment for all its worth, posting the lowest final round in Open history 37 freaking years ago. Toss in Roger Maltbie's (possibly) inebriated commentary, and its appointment television.
Just like the College World Series is appointment viewing (and attendance). I'm gonna miss Rosenblatt. Sure, its a dump ... but its an awesome, history filled dump. There's something to be said for spending 9 plus hours baking in the sun on metal bleachers with a bunch of hammered college kids. (And anytime two Florida schools, plus Arizona State, make it, like they have this year, there's plenty of attractive co-eds to look at for said 9 hours of baking in the sun. Good times!)
My alma mater made it to Omaha for the first time ever, by beating Texas yesterday to win the super regional. UCLA, Florida, Florida State, Arizona State, and South Carolina have punched their tickets, and either Clemson or Alabama, and either Oklahoma or Virginia, will wrap up the final two berths this afternoon. All in all, this should be one of the deepest fields in a while, a fitting send off to Rosenblatt. Only three of the eight national seeds have made it so far (Arizona State, Florida, UCLA), and Virginia can still get in to make it four. The fun starts Saturday afternoon; I hope to make it either Monday or Tuesday, whichever day the alma mater plays its second game.
Now that the preview is out of the way, a few random thoughts from the weekend that was:
* Sunday was just about the most ridiculous weather day around here in a while. I was dog-sitting for my brother Saturday night. Woke up Sunday morning, and it was sunny at his place. I called my friends whose deck I was slated to work on, and was told "its a monsoon out here". Once the rains ended, the deck dried pretty quick, we got it swept up, got the paint out ... and bammo, a seemingly innocent looking single rain cloud opened up and dumped almost an inch of rain over half an hour. Once that shower ended at about 2:15, 2:20 ... well, hopefully the pic I tried to take shows how insanely hot it got:
(if you look closely, you might be able to see the steam rising. photo: my quickfire phone).
For a solid 15 minutes, the steam just kept rising. The deck dried out that quick, by the time the steam was done (thank you 90 degree temps!), there was plenty of time left to get the deck re-stained and ready for summer. (Whew). But that was weird. I'd never seen a wooden deck so freaking hot before after a downpour that it was steaming. Kind of neat.
* Of course, Saturday's weather wasn't any better. I set out to help the folks about 9:30 Saturday morning ... and by the time I hit State Line, it was pouring. You couldn't see like 10 feet in front of you. Needless to say, their lawn didn't get mowed. It kept raining all morning ... and early afternoon ... and finally stopped about halftime of the USA / England match.
* Which was just in time for Dusty to get the grill fired up for some chicken wings for the second half. Come on, who else was I gonna watch a big soccer game with, Gregg? Hell, he probably didn't even know Team USA was playing. The only drawback was said rain -- its just not an official "Steve and Dusty watch a big event together" party unless there's a TV out on the deck.
* Very good game, by the way. How Tim Howard kept playing after that sick slide by the English dude into him, I have no idea. Anytime you need a painkiller at halftime just to be able to raise your arm, that's probably not a good thing. But a tremendous showing by our goalie. Ditto that Steve Cherundula guy on defense. And not just because he's the one guy on our roster named "Steve". Hopefully Team USA keeps showing up going forward -- if they play their next two games like they played the first one, they're winning Group C.
* Not much happening on Friday. Spent the afternoon poolside, under the tried and proven "any day that's hot enough, that putting on a t-shirt seems like the most ridiculous thing imaginable, is a perfect Steve Day!" theory. Then poor Gus had to pay off his NASCAR and IndyCar debts to me. Yup, nothing says "DUI alert! DUI alert!" like me and Gus at the Daily Double. Especially when he's on the hook for all my booze. (To his credit, he paid off all 8 vodka tonics. To my detriment, I only got through 6 1/2 of them. Wait, what am I saying. Kudos to our bartender Jennifer, for basically making eight consecutive vodka shots disguised as tonics! These things were more ridiculous than "Steve style", which is defined as 50% booze, 50% mixer, no need for ice. These made the tall vodka tonics at Quinton's look weak, and Quinton's are pushing 60% booze / 40% mixer in a pint glass. The lesson? I love the Daily Double!)
* Although while I'm at it, yeah, the Double rules. Its a complete hole in the wall (almost literally). You don't even know its there unless you're looking for it. The entrance just says "Lounge". (That just cracks me up for some reason. When I walk into an establishment identified as "Lounge", I expect a bunch of dirty old guys ogling the hot young female talent in the joint. On second thought, that pretty much is the Double's nightly crowd. Never mind.)
Yes, the folks are friendly and boozy. The atmosphere is pretty cool. But they need two things to make this place THE best place in Raytown. One is obvious. A shuffleboard table. You're not officially a dive bar, a "lounge" act, until you have a shuffleboard table.
But the other thing? Ban smoking.
Yup, I've done a total 180 on public bans on smoking. As recently as a year ago, I opposed banning smoking in a bar because, well, (gregg voice) its a bar! Now though? I'm pushing halfway through my 30s. I wake up every morning sounding like a 30 year smoker, I'm hacking up so much stuff thanks to allergies. And I hate being around cigarette smoke indoors. I don't get it either. Cigar smoke, wonderful. The tobacco-like substance I've been known to enjoy from time to time? Can't get enough of it. But cigarettes just irritate me. The lesson? I'm not sure. Either I'm turning into a cranky, creppy old man ... or I'm completely insane. Possibly both. But still, I do wish the Double would go smoke-free indoors. My eyes are blood-shot and watery enough thanks to allergies and vodka. I don't need someone's used up Basic Menthol making it worse.
* Coming later tonight ... or tomorrow sometime ... my thoughts on the Big XII (minus two) staying relatively intact. I guess I just view this differently than a lot of folks in KC, especially those who work on 610's afternoon drive-time program ...
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