Steak and Stakes

Yes the microphone is still on here, just summer/work craziness has my writing time down to beyond nil.

(a side note: has anyone been successful from getting listed on Google again after being de-listed?) Drop me a note.

After nearly a week of watching the kids alone as my wife trucked up north to Duluth for a drinking engagement work conference, came home for a day, then left for her annual “girl’s weekend”, I have a new found respect for those who stay home or interact with little humans on a daily basis in a classroom.

The thirst for adult conversation at the end of the day after listening to your mouth say “please turn left” and they go right for a solid week was near Gobi desert desperation on Saturday. Sure, my little walking genes were adorable and attentive some of the time, but what the hell wires these kids to do everything but what you say to them. It was like talking to women (which I’m sure the fairer sex would say the same about guys)!

Parental learning experience put into the database for later use as the boy’s sixth birthday party in the artery clogging humidity at Elm Creek park on Sunday went as smoothly as possible with the kids enjoying the massive timber structured playground and adults relaxing in the shade with iced down beverages. The real treat was the little ones’ batteries were spent by the time they hit the bathtub a few hours later that not one “GET BACK IN YOUR ROOM!!!11111” was uttered/screamed/threatened.

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Tell me. If you make millions of American dollars or Euros and enjoy a certain amount of fame due to your athletic ability/acting ability/gag reflex ability would decide that someone deserves a Anderson Silva on Griffin beat-down because the service person lacked enough change to purchase four pieces of Bazooka gum at the dollar store?

Patrick Kane, your karmatic taint punch is coming after mistaking a cabbie who was 20 cents short for Tie Domi. My hopes are the next time you pass out while tipping back too many lime-flavored Zimas at the local Dave and Busters, someone tattoos the word “Asshole” around your mouth.

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Anyone feel bad for Padraig (cousin of WSOP champ Dan) Harrington for chunking a chip on the 70th hole of the WGC Bridgestone Invitational and literally giving away the tournament to the Phil Ivey of golf?

As if Tiger needed the “help” but what kind of pro hits a chip over a green and into the water from 20-30 feet away (that’s feet, not yards)??? That’s the kind of shot better left for hackers like myself to perfect on exotic locals like Three Rivers executive nine off Bass Lake Road in Plymouth, MN. But I wasn’t hitting the little white ball for a paycheck the size of all my assets put together Indecent Proposal style hoping that red comes up for the fifth straight spin.

Choke.

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Another choke may be not finishing off my sixth place finish in the $1,000 PLO8 guarantee at Stars after outlasting 692 runners and being 2nd in chips with 14 remaining. A good run for sure, but the sheer horrible play of those near the final table fueled a very easy run to the decent ROI and a hanging head that I didn't finish in the top two.

I’ll save poker-heavy stuff for a post at Minnesota Poker Magazine’s site, but this run of tournament success (I cashed in a 4-max PLO8 tourney at the same time with another deep run) has me thinking about the 2010 WSOP for taking another shot at the big money for this small operator of four card crack. Maybe its false pride and the cards just fell right over the past few years but the itch to take another shot (perhaps with the help of my fellow degenerates as consulted by my financial advisor The Rooster), is definitely getting in my thoughts.

If I can extract enough time to play a few more of these (my run ended at 3:00am after starting at 9:30pm), and hit up Running Aces for some $4/$8 w/half kill O8 action, you might see a Captain sailing Drizz at the Amazon Room next year in a playing capacity unless I get tapped for a writing gig to chronicle the 2am $10 min bet blogger Pai Gow game at the Gold Coast.

Time will tell as will my wholely amateur review of Pittsburgh Blue steakhouse in Maple Grove stemming from next week's anniversary dinner is still being pan seared with butter.

Eye For an I

The Red Sox lose and 99% of the baseball loving public applauds. Except for Las Vegas sportsbooks who offered odds of 200-1 or more for the Rays to win the World Series. Anyone take a flyer on these guys while in Vegas for the NCAA tourney?

Roy Williams spent last night dancing on stars, strip club table tops, and probably took double J’s private jet as quickly as possible to the Lone Star State to join the Cowboys. Unfortunately for the Lions their future building block of finally having two first-round all-pro caliber wide receivers that don’t suck on the field at the same time was now given yet another 1st round draft pick to waste on the next over-rated pass catcher who had some great NFL Combine times and wonderlic scores that prove he went to Remedial Three-Sided Geometry and Basic Basket Weaving class more then once a week.

Did Matt Millen sneak back into his office?

Adam Jones. Overhyped, can’t hold his liquor, and has a temper control that rivals my two year old that was just told she can’t stay up to watch the Dora the Explorer double feature on Nick Jr. At least Pacman still has his eyesight unlike this unfortunate nudie club patron that no longer has a reason to go back after losing sight in both eyes due to two separate fights over three months at the same club. Maybe he should have tipped Clarissssa a little more before getting her 8 inch heel in the ocular area after getting drunk off three Odouls and calling her flat chested?

Now, that takes talent and poses the question: is there a reason for him to return to that (or any) strip club? Perhaps just to smell the stripper perfume or the lunch buffet and 2 for 1 happy hour specials? May his mother will just bring home a warm six-pack of Schmidt and a pack of Reds from now on versus causing anymore trouble at her workplace.

Is It the Reverse Herschel Walker Trade?

I'm not a Timberwolves fan since I don't care much for basketball outside of some college hoops, but I am a Minnesota sports fan.

A true fan would applaud Garnett going somewhere with the talent besides him to make a run to an NBA Championship that would never happen here. Just the chance, not the title itself is deserved.

As for the trade itself, the T-Wolves received the same crappy pot of players when WallyWorld was shipped off a couple of years ago. I don't expect this "young" group of players to fill the stands at the Target Center anytime soon except for the first month of the season when there's "promise" and "hope" of a new basketball era in Minnesota.

With Garnett gone, and Kirby no longer among the living, is Joe Mauer ready to step up as the state's face and voice in professional sports? Sure hockey is extremely popular here, but I don't see Gabby as being the consumate "ah' shucks" Minnesotan with the flair of a top-tier athlete. If not, at least you'll see at least 10,000 kids at Joe Mauer Sideburns night for the next couple of years.

Best wishes to Kevin on the shot he has always wanted, and R.I.P. T-Wolves, hopefully Crunch the Wolf and those hot dancers will find some work at a Wild's game because the next five years are really going to test if professional basketball is here to stay in the Twin Cities or if the ghost of Herschel Walker has come back to don some high tops and bring exciting new talent to resurrect a failing team.

Thanks for dropping by, now condolences to another well-liked professional... Bill Walsh, you stay classy sir. (bad pun, but fitting)

Edit: From the father-in-law... here's a video that should help the Vikes reach the Super Bowl this year. Stop laughing.