Pooper Bowl XXXIX

Here's the deal: I have always openly admired the discipline and skill required of athletes, but I just can't seem to shake my unadulterated hatred for the culture behind professional (and even college) sports these days. Don't get me wrong; I grew up watching, playing, and cheering for football and basketball and many an evening you can find me on the couch cheering on my Pistons. It's just that I feel guilty for supporting an industry--because that's essentially what it has become--that encourages kids to strive not to become well-educated, socially-cognizant, compassionate people but rather impossibly young phenoms like LeBron James and Freddy Adu...both great athletes, but anomalies nonetheless. Why in the world would a poor kid in the Bronx work hard to ace his exams, get accepted to and somehow pay for a good college and go on to accomplish great things in the world of academia? Why not just spend 2 hours every night on the court sinking threes so he can make $90 million by the time he turns 18? The choice, if one can even call it that, is obvious.

Also, I've had it with the cocky, self-congratulatory ugliness that is the face of pro sports these days. Case in point: last night's MVP of Super Bowl XXXIX, Deion Branch, was not only recognized as the most valuable player of the evening with an applause and hearty congratulations but was also given "any Cadillac of [his] choosing." Excuse me? Not only are we rewarding this talented man for doing his job (for which he is paid handsomely), but we hand him a car that is undoubtedly worth more than the GDP of some small South Asian countries? Of all people in the world to receive a free car, couldn't we have chosen someone whose salary over the next five years isn't approximately 5 million dollars? I am outraged -- I would love to see, just once, a player requesting that his or her "award" be a donation to a worthy charity instead of to his or her 20 car garage. It's not like millions of people aren't suffering right now in the aftermath of the tsunami disaster or that hundreds of thousands of people aren't dying of starvation and poverty every day. Having just come back from one of the poorest countries in the world, I can't help but be ashamed of this unabashed display of American pompousness and excessiveness parading around as fun and good sportsmanship. Hmph.

That said, I would like to move on to more optimistic thoughts by sharing the phenomenal sandwich experience--no, enlightenment--I had tonight. You see, as a vegetarian by choice for over three years now, it's been a while since I've had a really good sandwich. Cold cuts are obviously out and I generally don't eat anything with the word wheat in its name (I'm serious). Having grown up on incredible sandwiches in my lunch handmade by my mom until I graduated high school (just ask my pal Adrienne Ardis), my mid-day meals just haven't been the same since I became a veggie. Tonight, however, my sandwich sense was awakened and I actually bought a loaf of 7-grain, thickly sliced wheat bread (!!!) and a package of vegetarian ham lunch meat and salivated the entire ride home. Accompanied by crisp lettuce, freshly sliced tomato, and a touch of mayonnaise and mustard, that bad boy was the best sandwich I have had in years. I actually sat and admired the second half in all of its glory after happily ingesting the first. Although the paper plate and crumby background certainly don't do justice to its flavorful intensity, here is a picture of said veggie ham sandwich:


Oh, how I love you, little sandwich!

Ahhh. I'm still thinking about that bedtime snack. I feel much better now. Anyhow, I should sign off -- I have an early doc appointment, but I'll leave with two cute pictures from the Brown Jug this weekend. Have a great night!


Josh, AJ, and Hal ham it up


AJ, me, and Francine were smokin'

xoxox