Some notes from the coast (well, Ontario at least) while watching the NFL opener and letting my In ‘N Out Double-Double settle happily in my belly.

My favorite thing about In ‘N Out Burger isn’t the food or the name or the Fletch reference. It’s the fact I ALWAYS get some sauce on my shirt when I eat there. I love that little reminder the next time I wear the shirt (In ‘n Out sauce is a bitch to get out of cotton. Probably explains why it’s so hard to digest.).

For the record, I’m officially comfortable with football being on tonight, although let’s all admit the NFL on Thursday isn’t completely correct. While Mother Nature may have conspired to give most of the country football weather of some sort last weekend, it still didn’t feel like football season. If I’m ever elected president, in addition to banning large trucks from the roads during rush hour, I would mandate strict limits to sport seasons:

Football: Starts the weekend after Labor Day. All regular season college games must be completed by the weekend of Thanksgiving. No bowl games before December 20. None after January 2. Super Bowl must be played the last weekend of January (keeping the NFL from expanding the season).
Baseball: Opening Day must be the first Monday of April, with all games that day being day games. No regular season games should be played in October (shorten the season to 154 games to guarantee that.) No playoff games after October 30.
Basketball: No NBA games before November 1. No college games before the week of Thanksgiving. The one exception is for the preseason NIT, which would receive a one-week waiver so the campus rounds could be played in time to get the four finalists to New York the night before Thanksgiving. The NCAA championship must always be played the first Monday of April. We really need to do something about getting the NBA Finals over by June 10 too.
Hockey: Eliminate the entire regular season and just have “playoff hockey” between April 1 and June 1.

Peyton Manning has a shit-load of endorsements, doesn’t he? Jerry Rice is the greatest player ever, and probably has fewer endorsements in 20 years than Peyton has racked up in seven.

Is there anything dumber than free agents who switch teams and then talk about proving to their old team that they let someone good get away? You were a free agent! You had the freedom to negotiate with every team in the league, you got to weight the offers, and you chose the one that was best for you. Shut up and count your money.

You would think I might be a bigger fan of Lisa Guerrero than Melissa Stark. In most competitions I would be (although Ms. Guerrero is showing her age a little, but it’s kind of cool that ABC didn’t go with some 21 year old hottie), but when you’re talking fully clothed, chest-up shots all night, I think I go with the Phi Beta Kappa rather than the D Material candidate.

East Coast fans are the best. There’s really nothing like them. East Coast fans just sound different, they have a roar that the rest of the country can’t reproduce. West Coasters are bandwagoners, and can always find something better to do. Midwesterners are too forgiving and mild mannered. East Coasters, however, love their teams with a passion but will rip them when they do wrong. Their teams are an extension of their city, their neighborhood, even themselves. West Coast fans look at athletes as celebrities. In the Midwest, we view them as regular, good guys. In the East, however, players are all your hopes and dreams wrapped up in a living, breathing package.

I should have gone to Jack in the Box. I could have gotten a Raiders antenna ball. Whoo wooooooo!!!!!

I saw a story on the local sports tonight about a basketball player named Demetrius Walker. Kid is a 12 year old in the LA area that is already 6’3’’. Some people are calling him the next LeBron. How much would it suck to be 6’3’’ when you’re in the sixth grade, live in the LA area, and have people comparing you to the Next Great Thing? Something tells me he already gets laid more than I ever did in college.

While we’re on the subject, why would any athlete not go to UCLA? If you’re going to be a jock, cruise through classes, live off $100 handshakes, and drink for free, wouldn’t you rather do it where you’re sharing the free pitchers with models than with Tammy from Oak Grove?

It took me 150 minutes to travel 75 miles today. I love LA!

I had about two hours to kill in St. Louis Wednesday. St. Louis is probably my least favorite big airport. It always feels like a big, cold cave that is stuck in the 1970’s. Probably my favorite thing is the artificial sky view between terminals B and C. There are fake windows with a view of clouds, as if you’re 29,000 feet up in a Boeing jet. Other than nine-year-old boys, who is interested in this view? Put up a gaudy, fake arch. Paint a mural of famous St. Lunatics. Something to let me know I’m in St. Louis and not Peoria.

It was very odd to be flying near Kansas City and not be landing.

Do any of you remember Sniglets? Comedian Rich Hall made entirely too much money in the 1980s (and earned a gig on SNL) by coming up with funny words that described everyday events or items that caused bemusement and consternation in people. Does anyone know if there was a Sniglet for the first automatic faucet you choose in an airport restroom never working? I’m seriously on a 28-29 faucet streak where I had to wave my hands in front of at least two faucets to get some tepid water to come out.

Speaking of nine-year-old boys and airport restrooms (whoa!), on our way to St. Lucia, we admired the automatic seat covers in O’Hare. Awesome invention! Along with automatically flushing, a new plastic sanitary cover slides itself over the toilet seat. I wonder how many they waste each year because idiots like me and every nine-year-old boy who’s ever walked into a stall there makes it flush five times so we can marvel.