Whether you're at the end of your rope or merely the end of your week, welcome to Whitt's End:
*Okay, let me snap off this Olive branch and extend it to the Christians this week. Peace?
*Props to 103.3 FM ESPN Radio's Randy Galloway for landing the first in-depth interview with Texas Rangers' outfielder Josh Hamilton since you know what. And props to Josh for sticking with his faith. "The Lord's been glorified a lot more," Hamilton told Galloway on Wednesday. "Jesus' name has been in the paper a lot more during that week, week and a half then it ever has been." I dare you to find something negative to say about that item. Dare ya!
*I say taking two of three in Yankee Stadium at this time of the year against the best team in baseball is the Rangers' most impressive feat this millennium. Texas now has three of the only 20 wins by visitors in New York this season. Still don't think they'll make the playoffs. At the same time, I'm a believer that we'll see meaningful baseball into October. And I applaud them for the release of Vicente Padilla and the demotion of Jason Jennings. Accountability = sexy.
*What kind of shit would y'all give me if I go see Depeche Mode Saturday night at Starplex? That's right, Starplex.
*Michael Vick choking a dog that's dressed in a Cowboys' jersey. I couldn't make that up.
*Of the Cowboys' dozen draft picks, looks like only Southern Cal kicker David Buehler will make an impact as a rookie. Yikes.
*Again with the Swine Flu scare? Really?! Ya know, in general, sequels suck. And since the original was a flop, well ...
*There was a time when I was like 10 years old that all that mattered in the world was collecting those plastic 7-Eleven Slurpee cups with pictures of baseball players on them. Every day when I'd wake up my mission was to somehow scrounge up 25 cents so I could buy another Slurpee and hope to get Jeff Burroughs or Willie Stargell or Reggie Jackson. Man, I long for something that would so yank me out of bed these days.
*One thing I do like. I mean really, really like: Salad Fingers.
*Okay, I admit it. Doing "research" for the Hot is the highlight of my week. A close second: Scouring for the Not.
*Ted Kennedy. Sad. But I'll be honest, I don't know that much about him. Quick 20-second timeout while I do some research ... I see. Betcha Mary Jo Kopechne's family isn't exactly shedding a tear.
*Five words that will clinch your colon: Kate Gosselin hosts The View.
*So I'm having this running debate. Which do I despise more: Gangsta rap or New country? Xzibit or Kenny Chesney? Do I wanna be tarred or feathered?
*Thursday was the 32nd anniversary of a baseball feat I venture to say will never be duplicated. I was listening to the game on WBAP 820 AM on Aug. 27, 1977 - where were you? - when Rangers second baseman Bump Wills and shortstop Toby Harrah hit back-to-back homers against the Yankees in New York. Inside-the-park homers, that is. On consecutive pitches, no less. Think about that. I mean really think about it. Boggles the mind, no?
*Cowboys' employees Rich Behm and Joe DeCamillis sued everybody for everything in conjunction with the May 2 Valley Ranch practice facility collapse. Except that is, for the Dallas Cowboys, the City of Irving and the company that actually built the facility. That, my friends, is why I'm not a lawyer. Well, that and my IQ of 12.
*When I heard last week that the medical examiner ruled Michael Jackson's death a
homocide homicide, it stopped me in my tracks. I guess I thought the police would rule it a homocide homicide and the medical examiner would explain how the death occured - ice pick, gunshot, overdose, blunt force trauma caused by falling awning, etc. Obviously I need to start watching CSI.
*A girl in Bridgeport is killed when she's just jogging down the street and an awning falls on her. I guess the lesson here is
about structural engineering and regular safety inspections that sometimes bad things happen to good people for no particular reason and there's absolutley nothing positive to take from it.
*This morning I suffered what has to be the gayest injury in the history of injuries: Carpet toe. Seems that in the midst of their nightly rough-housing our two dogs ruffled these carpet runners we have in our hallway, leaving about a 4-inch burm in the carpet. This morning in the dark I caught/rammed my left big toe on said burm. Fall-to-the-ground pain. Tears in my eyes. Hobbled walking. The works. It's official: I'm a wimp.
*Lots of reaction to my Josh vs. Josh column in last week's Dallas Observer.
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Jesus Christ, you are a fucking moron. Howard has his head in the clouds, stupidly brags about hating the flag and what it represents, smoking out (can't you keep that to yourself?), and being a distraction via partying DURING playoffs when told to lay low. Hamilton admits his past, stays close to God, and when he fucks up (that ONE time, at least), he IMMEDIATELY talks to his wife and his team. The next day. He knew, and he acknowledged the slip. Richie, you are such a Goddamned motherfucking fake-lowvoiced dipfuck. Poor wittle Wichie still huwts fwom the Hardline knowing instantly that you are a fucking spare windback of nothing. So now you write polarizing columns because THAT'S ALL YOU'VE GOT.
Richie your article made me think a lot. I don't know that I have a good response, but I think the whole point was to get me to do exactly what I did, which was really look at my reactions to each player. Good article.
*I'll be on 105.3 The Fan Saturday 1-4 p.m. If you hate me on the radio, brace yourself. There's about to be a lot of me to hate.