Monday, December 15, 2008

The Fine Art of Procrastination

Procrastination. Others may have it, but Cara and I have made an art form of it. Whether it's NOT getting out of bed in the morning to start a new day, finding things to do besides working on dissertation/thesis papers, or our latest work of procrastination art...avoiding painting our office for the entire weekend; Cara and I have skillfully figured out how to avoid doing those little things we don't really want to do for as long as possible. Here's how it played out.

(Scene opens to find Matt and Cara in the upstairs living room.)

Matt: So, I guess we better start prepping that office for painting. (He continues reading "Marley and Me".)
Cara: Yeah. (She continues to play Wii Tennis.)
Matt: Maybe an Irish Car Bomb will get us motivated. (Together, they leave the room, presumably to have an Irish Car Bomb. They return moments later and resume their previous activities).
Cara: Let me finish my tennis match. Then we can paint.
Matt: Cool. I want to finish this chapter real quick.

(Two hours pass. Now Cara and Matt are playing Wii together.)

Matt: Baby Mario!! ARRRGHHH!!! You're my nemesis!!
Cara: (Rolls eyes. Mutters under her breath.) What have I gotten myself into?
Matt: What was that?!?
Cara: I said, should we just prep AND paint tomorrow?
Matt: Oh. Yeah. That sounds good...(yelling at game)..COME ON!! I HATE YOU BABY MARIO!!!

(The scene fades on Cara and Matt playing Mario Kart into the "Wii" hours of the morning...)

(The next morning, Cara's cell phone alarm blares "So What" by Pink....for the FIFTH time. It is few minutes after 11am)

Cara: Where's my pillow?
Matt: Zzzz....
Cara: Pillow thief! Where's my pillow?
Matt: (singing along) Gave it to Jessica Simps.
Cara: Oh you're hilar. (Punches Matt in the chest).
Matt: I don't want to paint today.
Cara: Me neither. I'm gonna go do some Christmas shopping.
Matt: Sounds good - I'll "prep" a little bit.
Cara: By prep, do you mean set your fantasy football lineup?
Matt: No. I'll prep. I promise.
Cara: Mmmhmmm...

(The two climb out of bed to get their Saturday underway. True to form, no painting gets done. Cara shops. Matt actually does manage to do some prepping. That evening, the two them don their holiday festive wear for a Christmas Party at Lane and Sarah's house. They return, exhausted, and head to bed.)

Cara: Are you sure you want to paint tomorrow? We could just paint when we got back from the NW.
Matt: Don't tempt me.

(The two drift off to sleep. The next morning, they are again roused by the catchy Pink tune, "So What".)

Cara: We should probably get up.
Matt: Zzzz...
Cara: How are you still asleep?
Matt: What are you talking about? I'm awake!
Cara: Mmmhmm.
Matt: Can we hit snooze just once?
Cara: I've already hit snooze 4 times.
Matt: Oh. Hmm...I suppose we better get up then.
Cara: Time to paint.
Matt: Or we could not paint.
Cara: If we don't paint, we definitely need to go to church.
Matt: Why? Procrastination isn't a sin!!
Cara: Nice try. Church?
Matt: Sure. But I don't want to paint.
Cara: K. We'll paint one evening this week. We have to!
Matt: Sounds good. Tomorrow night the procrastination ends. We're gonna get that room painted no ifs ands or buts!)

(Off to church they went. After church, the two hit Panera for lunch and then enjoyed a lazy Sunday complete with chores, some napping, and some leisurely reading/Wii playing. Matt finished "Marley and Me" and stole an occasional glance at the NFL games. Cara increased her pro-status in Wii tennis and blogged about the adorable card her cute nephew mailed us. All-in-all, it was a relaxing last non-workday in Knoxville before the holidays beckon the young couple home to the NW. Will the office get painted? Will the procrastination madness continue? Stay tuned!)

Friday, December 12, 2008

Fantasy Football Flop

Every year, I look forward to the fantasy football season. When I started playing fantasy football a few years ago, I found it to be much more exciting then I could have imagined. I don't know why this came as such a surprise, seeing as I always loved sports, statistics, and playing the role of manager. Travel back in time to my formative years as an apsiring young baseball GM. I think I was about 10 years old and I had an early NES baseball game, Bases Loaded 2 (which, according to this review is quite the crappy game). No matter what "The Video Game Critic" says, I rather enjoyed that the game only tracked stats for each game on an individual basis. This gave me a prime opportunity to keep track of the stats myself for each of my players and the top players on other teams. So, I religiously and meticulously kept stats; calculating batting averages, on-base percentages, ERA...and even doled out post-season awards based on the year-long performances I had kept track of. And you wonder how I became an accountant...

Needless to say, I am a bit of a fantasy football junkie. On top of giving me my "stats fix" the league I have joined keeps me in contact with friends back home, which is also a plus. As if this wasn't enough, there is money involved and the top team each year bring home nearly $400. I placed 2nd a couple of years ago and scored a cool $190. After a flop season last year, I hit this year charged and ready to dominate. I got the #3 pick in the draft, a good spot with 14 teams in our league. I drafted with an emphasis on running backs, as I wanted to lay the foundation for a strong playoff push (running backs pick up steam as the year goes on and the weather starts getting ugly). I also drafted Eli Manning for his late season heroics last year (though, I really cannot stand the guy) the gritty Pittsburgh Steeler defense (more on that later). My receiver picks were admittedly quite week. Overall, here is how the draft played out for me (overall pick # in parentheses):
  • 1st Round: Brian Westbrook, RB (#3)
  • 2nd Round: Lawrence Maroney, RB (#26)
  • 3rd Round: Thomas Jones, RB (#31)
  • 4th Round: Dallas Clark, TE (#54)
  • 5th Round: Hines Ward, WR (#59)
  • 6th Round: Eli Manning, QB (#82)
  • 7th Round: Pittsburgh, DST (#87)
  • 8th Round: Sidney Rice, WR (#110)
  • 9th Round: Ray Rice, RB (#115)
  • 10th Round: Deuce McAllister, RB (#138)
  • 11th Round: Vince Young, QB (#143)
  • 12th Round: Ernest Wilford, WR (#166)
  • 13th Round: Neil Rackers, K (#171)
  • 14th Round: Matt Jones, WR (#194)
As the early season unfolded, I hit the waiver wire (signing free agents and dropping current players to make roster room) like a banshee. At $0.50 per transaction fee, I may have exceeded the GDP of some small nations in revenue for our free agent pot. It didn't take long before my current roster looked nothing like the draft-day roster. As the playoffs opened last week, only 7 of the original 14 players remained on the active roster (and it would have been only 6 had I not picked up Matt Jones again recently - I dropped him earlier in the season when he faced suspension for possession of cocaine...yeah, he's a winner). All of this moving and shaking did pay off to some degree. After a bit of a slow start (which was plagued by injuries, earning my team the name Westbrook's Walking Wounded, or "WWW"), my team began to pick up some steam. As the regular season drew to a close, I climbed steadily to the top of the standings and finished with a #1 seeding heading into the playoffs. "WWW" was by no means dominant. My regular season title was helped greatly by the easiest strength of schedule (meaning I played my opponents, on average, during weeks when they scored most poorly). But, with Westbrook returning to form after an injury-plagued early season and Thomas Jones serving as a much needed workhorse, I felt good about my chances heading into the playoffs.

My team's #1 seeding would be an empty victory if I couldn't convert wins in the playoffs and claim the top prize. In week 1 of the playoffs, I geared up for a gritty re-match with "Obnoxious Hawkfan," coached by none other than Jeff Hyatt. As his name implies, Jeff is a Seahawks fan through and through. Obnoxiously so, in fact. His team was eager to avenge a narrow (0.60 pt), and frankly quite ridiculous come from behind Week 4 victory for my squad when our teams squared off in the regular season. This narrow victory was fueled by the Steelers defense who rallied late in 4th quarter of Monday Night Football to score 15 of my teams 60 pts that week. To be fair, I should not have won that game. I knew it. Jeff knew it. We geared our teams up for what was sure to be a hostile battle.

As our much anticipated playoff matchup drew near, I began looking over my roster to decide my starters for the week. Fueled by my running game, my team had the edge on paper as early favorites. However, my vaunted Pittsburgh defense (who have been absolutely dominant all year) had an ominous match up against Dallas' high-powered offense. I began to think long and hard about an alternative. So, I looked at my bench and made a decision I would come to regret. Out came Pittsburgh's DST and in came the DST for the New England Patriots. The hated, despised, god-awful New England Patriots. I could hardly believe what I was doing; placing my playoff hopes in the hands of the Patriots defense and Eli Manning. Odd, considering I can hardly stand seeing either of these "entities" succeed in any way, shape, form or fashion. So, why would I do such an odd thing?

I'm almost embarrassed to admit it. I made a plain and simple indefensible decision. I made a decision that defies all logic in a fantasy football league filled with die-hard Seahawks fans as I squared off against obnoxiously vocal supporter of the boys in blue and green. But, after much reasoning, I made a decision I felt would propel my fantasy team to a 1st round playoff victory based on the following justification:

The Patriots injury-plagued defense was squaring off against the lowly, meek, and offensively-challenged Seahawks and surely they would perform better than Pittsburgh's defense.

I was so sure of this, I was willing to bet against the Seahawks. That's right - I was betting AGAINST my home team. It makes me nauseous now to even read those words.

People like me are the reason fantasy football gets a bad rap. Critics argue that playing fantasy football forces you to go against your allegiances and make decisions that contradict what is the best for your home team. The criticisms are well explained here. And here. I could go on, but I'll spare you all the wild Internet goose chase. In short, my story is not unique. Fantasy owners face this trap week in and week out. Do you choose what is best for your fantasy team (which may have a real financial impact) or do you sacrifice your fantasy team for your "real world" team loyalties? I both faced and fell into the trap.

The morning of our big matchup, I had a severe case of "second thoughts". The guilt nearly got me to bench the Patriots in favor of Pittsburgh. But, I didn't. I couldn't. I guess that I needed to learn a lesson. As the matchup got underway, I had a sinking feeling that Bad Karma was going to strike. Boy, did it ever.

The Bad Karma seemed to strike Obnoxious Hawkfan first. As the sun rose on our playoff matchup, Jeff's team was confronted with injuries to both of it's starting RBs. He quickly installed back-up RBs and at the last minute named Matt Schaub starter at QB. These critical last-minute moves gave Obnoxious Hawkfan a spark right out of the gate. Matt Schaub outscored Eli Manning (my QB) 26 to 9 (thanks Eli!!). It was a gap that my team would not make up. In this case, I didn't DESERVE to pull out another ridiculous come from behind win. The same Steelers defense that had carried my team to a razor-thin margin-of-victory against Jeff's team in Week 4 sat on my bench as the stupid-head Patriots took the field against the Seahawks. The Seahawks scored a TD on their opening drive. A sinking feeling set in as I watched Pittsburgh's defense run roughshod over the hapless Cowboys. The stark reality of the situation hit me. I had bet against my Seahawks and I deserved to lose...and I was going to lose. I was so certain, I changed my team's name to Bad Karma.

As the Seahawks scored another TD, I cheered. I realized that losing my 1st round playoff matchup would be a small setback as long as the Seahawks scored a million points on the Patriots. Who cared if I lost my matchup and the chance at the 1st prize. At least the Seahawks were going to beat the Patriots. Bad Karma was going to strike my fantasy football team, but at least it didn't get a hold of the Seahawks. I felt a twinge of relief.

Unfortunately, this relief was short-lived.

When the dust settled on the day, the Steelers defense posted a dominant 24 point effort against Dallas. New England could only manage 3 points against a surprisingly feisty Seahawks offense. However, the %&@$'ing Patriots returned to New England victorious with a last minute victory over the now 2 and 11 Seahawks. ARGH!! The Bad Karma of my decision echoed from Knoxville to the Emerald City. A quick survey of the damage reveals:

  • The newly minted Bad Karma (fka Westbrook's Walking Wounded) lost to Obnoxious Hawkfan by 14 points, no small margin. However, considering that my team lost out on 21 points because I IMMORALLY picked the wrong defense, victory was certainly within reach for me on that fateful day.
  • My team lost the 1st game of the playoffs and now only plays for pride.
  • I lost out on the prize money, which is no small thing for a starving graduate student who is trying to save up for a wedding next Fall. Especially considering that I contributed a small nation's GDP worth of cash to the free agent pot in my league.
  • Most importantly, I lost a little bit of my soul because I bet against my beloved Seahawks.
Rest assured, I've learned a valuable lesson. Never again will I bet against my boys in blue and green. From this day forward, I will not let my quest for Fantasy Football gold come at loss of my better judgment. I will return next season, ready to once again pursue the vaunted 1st prize. But this time around, I'm going to do it the "right" way.

Go HAWKS!!

Friday, December 5, 2008

The Kick'n Chick'n

About a week and a half ago, my classmate Lane and I hit the local cigar bar, The Knoxville Cigar Company for a special whiskey tasting and cigar night. The price of admission (a mere $25) bought a cigar, five whiskey tastes (see picture), and some delicious sausage gumbo for dinner. I have to admit, I'm not a huge whiskey OR cigar guy, but it sounded like a good night out and Cara was out of town for work, so I figured it'd help distract me from missing her too much. The whiskey tasting was put on by the master distiller for Wild Turkey, Mr. Jimmy Russell HIMself. I hadn't heard of the guy MYself, but I guess he's the beez-neez. He was certainly a charismatic fellow. My favorite part of the night was when one of my fellow whiskey-sipping, cigar-wielding comrades hollered "Kick'n Chick'n - WHOOO HOOO!!!" That got me pretty good and fired up.

Jimmy Russell is a nice, older guy. One of those grandfatherly types you just feel comfortable around. He had lots of fun stories about how much he enjoys his job. "I would go to work, taste a couple hundred sips of whiskey, and go home and pour myself a glass as a night cap." He also enjoyed telling us childhood stories. "Out where I lived growing up, grandma would mix some whiskey, sugar, and little bit of lemon, heat it up, and call it cough syrup. I learned pretty quick that I could fool her faking a cough every time - until I started trying to do it during the summertime." Definitely good for a chuckle or two. I don't know if you can actually tell what's going on very well in the picture at the left, but Jimmy is in there...somewhere. He even signed a few tumblers at the end for everyone with some fancy paint pen. I have to give my respect to the guy - his signature on a glass with a fancy paint pen is better than mine with a regular old pen and paper writing on a flat desk. The guy has got talent. Fo sho. I just don't know how I felt about this little old drink he was peddling.

I have to admit, I was more than a little bit intimidated at the thought of downing five tastes of Wild Turkey. You see, the Kick'n Chick'n and I have a little bit of a rough history. We don't necessarily see eye to eye. It's been a while since we've visited with one another, but back after my sophomore year of college, I had my first experience "tasting" Wild Turkey while camping with some friends. I admit I was still relatively "green" when it game to drinking (for my parents possibly reading this blog, please PRETEND this was the summer after my senior year of college), and I did not have the proper "maturity" to enjoy a whiskey as fine as Wild Turkey.
I mixed a few drops of wild turkey in a two liter bottle of coke, took a sip, and what h appened next is forever etched in my mind. My eyes crossed. My vision went blurred. My stomach t wisted in knots. And I spent most of the evening trying to stay as far away from that disgusting stuff as I could. The battle lines were drawn. The kickn' chick'n and I were to be enemies for life. That is, until this whiskey tasting. You see, my buddy Lane (pictured at right), wouldn't have any of it. So he scheduled this little rendezvous and next thing I know, I was sitting there face-to-face with my sworn enemy.

The enormity of the situation did not fully hit me until I settled into my bar seat, casually puffing on my cigar. The rest of the crowd dissolved into the smoky recesses of the bar, leaving me and those five shots of Wild Turkey caught in a long and tense stare down. Me. Wild Turkey. Mano e whiskano (x5). "Alright chick'n," I thought to myself. "Tonight, I'm gonna do the kick'n." So, as Jimmy Russell explained the nuances of the Wild Turkey whiskey distillation process, I got reacquainted with an old friend. My tastes have definitely grown up quite a bit in 7+ years. And as I sipped that whiskey, I reflected on how my life has changed in the last 7+ years. I can hardly believe the journey I have had that lead me to Knoxville and that bar stool with a good friend and classmate that particular evening. And, it was a wonderful evening. I actually enjoyed that whiskey. The cigar and the food were the perfect compliment, as Lane and I visited and met new friends. It was an experience I will not soon forget. And I've got the signed Jimmy Russell whiskey tumbler to prove it. And something tells me it won't be another 7+ years before I sit down and "visit" with glass of Wild Turkey.