Why I don’t care anymore. . .

Used to be a time when sports really mattered.

What my team did really mattered.

What you said really mattered.

Then, I woke up.

All the NFL rapists and murderers who get off with the right lawyer started me down that slope. Then, losing the love of my life to an absurd and disappointing conflict she couldn’t get the upper hand on, no matter what she says. And, the win-at-all-costs and get-paid culture in which we survive. We support other people’s lives as ‘fans’ when we could and maybe ought to be fanatics about our own selves. Just sayin’.

Now. It’s all so much money, theater and more money that it just does not matter. The commercials alone stop me from having any interest in the game – any game.

And the replays. All 8 of them.
And the announcers. Like the NFL Network guy, color commentator ‘Mike’ who got every version of wrong possible during the Jets-Patriots game. He had to switch gears at least five times on things he definitely saw. How about “I don’t agree with that.” Or “I saw it differently.”

Yawn. Boring.

But, mostly it’s all the money. Robinson Cano whaddya know ? Nothing but greed baby.
I thought the Red Sox were the Idiots. Turns out, regardless of the final paycheck Cano garners or how far this year’s Sox go, I am the Biggest Loser, The Fattest Idiot.

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Dedicated to The One – We – Love

You’re Missing

By Bruce Springsteen

Shirts in the closet, shoes in the hall
Mama’s in the kitchen, baby and all
Everything is everything
Everything is everything
But you’re missing

Coffee cups on the counter, jackets on the chair
Papers on the doorstep, you’re not there
Everything is everything
Everything is everything
But you’re missing

Pictures on the nightstand, TV’s on in the den
Your house is waiting, your house is waiting
For you to walk in, for you to walk in
But you’re missing, you’re missing
You’re missing when I shut out the lights
You’re missing when I close my eyes
You’re missing when I see the sun rise
You’re missing

Children are asking if it’s alright
Will you be in our arms tonight?

Morning is morning, the evening falls I have
Too much room in my bed, too many phone calls
How’s everything, everything?
Everything, everything
You’re missing, you’re missing

God’s drifting in heaven, devil’s in the mailbox
I got dust on my shoes, nothing but teardrops