Same pile, different shit

Its amazing just how much we seem to depend on these damn machines.
For the better part of the last month I've been disconnected from the world - no internet, no phone, no school, no job, no hot water, and no way of easily getting around.
As soon as I moved out of good old 291 Central Ave. (the place I called home for the past two years) I was cast into the fuckin dark ages. Well I guess I did have electricity, so that was one bonus.

But things always sort themselves out. I'm clearly online right now, I bought myself my first ever cell phone, got the gas man in to fire up the furnace, and kinda-sorta lined myself up with a job for the summer. And the old man even let me borrow his car this week. Lucky me.

I guess there's a fair bit to update.

My marks in school this year were my best ever, so it looks like I'm pretty set for next year with a light course load to finish up my degree. That reminds me, I really oughta make sure that my averages are good enough...

I've just lined up a job for the summer, a grounds maintenance thing for some nice old municipal buildings downtown. The pay isn't half bad and it's close by, plus I'll be outside alot so I can work on tanning my pasty-white body. I'm still waiting to hear back for a job that's a little more career-oriented, but by the sounds of things the lady running the show is a bit of a joke, so I'm not holding my breath. I'd also like to work part-time at a record store for a) the discount and b) free posters, stickers, etc.

Just got home from the MacCrae Lake Muckers annual May 2-4 camping/fishing trip up near Honey Harbour. It's a pretty sweet spot, I've been going to the lake since I was about 5 years old, and you can only get there by boat. My bro missed out for the first time ever, but the old man and I drank enough to make up for his absence. So much in fact, that on Friday night I fell over in my chair by the fire and just stayed on the ground. Hardly my finest hour. And I woulda won the fishing derby, but the damn fish of mine twisted the metal of our chain and freed himself. At least I don't have to lug the trophy around for another year.


I replaced my busted camera with one that's similar but far superior to the old one. Only cost me an arm and a leg, but I'll be more careful with the new one. Below you can see a pic of the old camera as it sat on my desk the other day.


I've finally hooked myself up to Flickr, and I think I'll put a little more effort into my barely functioning MySpace so I can upload songs and shit to hopefully be heard by the masses. Not bloody likely...

Questioning my education

As fourth year comes to an end, and I struggle to ram as much info into my head as possible for the next week and a half of exams, I look back on my time at University thus far and try to put the school aspect of it into context.

In 1st year I learned how to get reasonable grades by doing the bare minimum of homework. Granted it was much harder than highschool ever was, but inherent smarts led me through.
2nd year I learned what it meant to struggle against massive doses of apathy and insomnia and still maintain an average that allowed me to continue attending this school.
3rd year I learned that no matter how much you think you know, there's always someone else that knows more than you. Personally, I never found that to be much of a motivator though.
And in 4th year I learned that I know a hell of alot more than marks will show, or exams can ever test. I learned that I could attain far more knowledge on my own accord compared to having some prof ram it down my throat in the form of excessive readings or complex labs.

The only problem I've found is this - the things I teach myself don't parallel my chosen academic life. I never go out of my way to learn about the genes in humans that activate x pathway, or the circuits of the brain that allow people to do y activity.


But I do have a massive amount of knowledge and understanding of many things that span many different fields of study. I've come to notice that not many people I come in contact with do this kind of thing, and it strikes me as somewhat strange. Granted, we're all paying a shitload of money to be here and to learn what our profs have to teach, yadda yadda, but it's amazing how few people around here seem to take learning upon themselves outside of school work.

I've learned a great deal about current events, the media, politics, history, war, marketing, computers, music, philosophy, art, psychology, etc. etc. and none of it has anything to do with either one of my Double Majors.

This kinda begs the question of what the hell am I doing in my program?
That question is answered by the fact that I can still do fine in my courses, and I still retain alot of what I learn in class. But is this really what I want to do for the rest of my life? I suppose many of my friends are asking themselves the very same thing, the only difference being that they'll be graduating this year and I won't.

Of late, a single phrase has been running through my head - Don't let it define you.
I'm not sure if I picked it up somewhere or just thought of it myself. And to be entirely honest I've been trying to figure out what I even mean when I say that.
The best way I can describe it is this: I see so many people that are easily labelled as "the quiet scientist", "the arrogant Ivey kid", or "the computer geek". It even applies to social life - you know one guy as "the drunk", a girl as "the sporty chick" or another guy as "the dude in the band".
Personally, I don't want to be remembered for any one thing in particular. There are so many people in life that we know for a time and then we part ways, never to meet again. It's my hope that people won't remember me as "the guy who wrote a blog" (that noone reads. haha), or "the big music fan", or "that opinionated asshole".


And that's why I take it upon myself to expand my horizons every day. I'll read an article, listen to a song, watch a movie, have a conversation. And unlike most, I follow it up with something else. Often I'll just look up shit on Wikipedia or Google and link around to find more details.
For example, look up the following:

• Georgia Home Boy
• Echolalia
• Andrewsarchus
• Passchendaele
• Freud's Cocaine Letters
• Bukowski
• COINTELPRO

Interesting shit eh?

You might wanna inform yourself about other things too, lest you be remembered as "the fool who knew nothing".

On a bus to Atlantic City with a roll of quarters...

I often find it funny how America claims to be the apex of social evolution. Maher puts things into context.

Finding Iron

It's been awhile, so here's some news:

• Two nights ago a few friends and I got to see the Blue Jays' home opener in Toronto, and even though they were facing KC, it was a pretty entertaining game. My bro got us tix in the 30th row, right behind home plate. My favourite part of the game was seeing Frank The Tank warm up for his at-bats with a lead pipe. Pretty ridiculous. We snuck in a few mickeys and got nice and shitfaced. On the way home I stuck my head out the car window on the Gardiner to proclaim how great the Jays are, and came back into the car only to find that one of the lenses in my glasses had been blown out onto the highway. Joy.
  

• Tomorrow is the last day of classes for my 4th year here at school. The year has flown by faster than any other I'd say. Now it's exam time and I'm unprepared, as usual. Fortunately my first two exams this weekend are easier courses, so I have time to get ready for the tough ones. As usual I have 5 exams, while most of my friends have 2 or 3. Gotta love science.

• As of now I have no job for the summer. But I do have a place to stay in town if I can get something together. There are numerous reasons why I don't want to go home, but if I'm forced to I suppose there's not much I can do. I'd like to pick up a part time job at a record store for the summer in addition to a regular 9-to-5 schedule. Especially since the new Matt Good album is due out this summer - and I want free posters and shite!

• Speaking of, I've heard 4 tracks from the new album that have been streamed one after another on his site. Unfortunately they've all been taken down, but in a few months the record will be out anyway.

• In politics, it seems that two men have lost their minds. Make that 3 men...

1. John McCain - this toolbox claimed that any Joe Blow can walk the streets of Baghdad freely and without fear, and he set off to the market to prove it! Funny that he needed snipers on the rooftops, 3 Black Hawks, 2 Apaches, the most heavily armored Humvee in the army, and a few dozen troops to protect him. No fear - kinda reminds me of those tacky hats and shirts that had that slogan on them.
2. Tom Delay - for some reason this idiot equates his personal indictments in the courts with the Holocaust. He pretty much blames the Left for anything he can, and it's pretty fucking sad how far (out in left field) he'll go to smear them. He even wrote a book that includes a passage that equates the Left to the Nazis. And here the rest of us thought Bush was a tad bit closer to Hitler than tree-hugging hippies... how stupid we must be!
3. Bill O'Reilly - if you've never heard of this fucker, consider yourself lucky. I have heard of him, and I've heard many of the things he's said. Remember that kid in the States that was freed from his abductor and rapist after years of abuse? He blamed the kid. Remember that house fire that killed those kids awhile back? He turned that tragedy into a political point about illegal immigration, and pretty much said they got what they deserved. And now he's sparred with Geraldo regarding a drunk driving incident, which he again spun off topic to fuel his own irrational and intolerant viewpoints. It's amazing this douchebag still has a job, let alone any friends or family that would associate themselves with such a hate fulled man.

• The NHL playoffs are back, and that means even less time will be spent on school-related material! I was ecstatic to see that those wretched Maple Leafs didn't make the final eight. My Pens aren't gonna make it past Ottawa, but they're young and inexperienced, so that's to be expected. I'm predicting a Sens/Sabres Eastern final and Sharks/Ducks final in the West. Odds are I'll be way off.

• Canada has lost more troops over in Afghanistan this week. Donald S got all choked up on Coaches Corner tonight, and though I think he goes a little too far with the military stuff sometimes, I can only hope that he shines a light on a topic that most people don't usually concern themselves with. And once that happens, enough voters will realize that we have no reason to be in this "war on terror" in the first place. Unless you count playing lap-dog to the US a legitimate reason...

That's all I can think of for an update today. Now it's time to go catch some hockey.

Hallucinating and blasting puke

So I finally got the Cuba post up. Though we had a great time, I'd like to point out that in some ways I do feel shitty about the way we rich kids go down to paradise and fuck around while your average Cuban or Dominican sleeps every night in a house that most of us would consider unlivable. (That's why it's best not to leave the resort.)
I'm sure those fishing guides thought we were complete assholes. Then again, we did leave them our catch. And we paid them. And as James would say, "That's just the way it is." in the world.
Or was that Bruce Hornsby?

I also figured out the video thing to get YouTube on here. It only took me about a year...
Like most of my technological understandings, it was a trial and error thing that I just stumbled upon. Glad I sorted it out though. Now I just gotta figure out how to get an mp3 player in the sidebar and I'll be rockin.

I had an interview this week for a job in London for the summer, but it turned out to be an interview for what I was doing with the next 3 years of my life, as the doctor and his assistant quizzed me on why I wanted to do my Masters with them. Needless to say, I stumbled like a fool. But who knows, they seemed to like me. I even got a tour of the lab after the 45 minute interview.

I also sorted out a place to stay this summer if I actually do lock up a job down here. Turns out it's about 5 doors down the road from my place now, so that's pretty cool. Most of the summer would be spent alone (unless we find someone to take the other bedroom), but I will have a solid 3 weeks with my friend Laura, because she has to take an Orgo Chem class during the summer.
Then James and I just have to sort out an 8 month lease for next year, hopefully with Ben and Steve back in town too.

I found an article the other day about a set of twins that's been discovered in the States. Turns out they're half identical and half fraternal - something that was previously thought to be impossible. I guess ya learn somethin new every day.

What else is new... my bro came down last weekend. It had been awhile since I'd seen him, and I finally got to see his car. I took it for a spin even though he didn't want me to. (That's why I took off while he was passed out the morning after drinking til 5:30.)

Not much else to say, gotta go get some work done.

Passion on the floor

7 Days Under the Influence

Two weeks ago my 5 roommates and I came back from the best week of our entire university lives.
We headed down to Cayo Coco, Cuba for a shitshow week of drunkeness and sun, and I think it's fair to say we made the best of it.
It's hard to recall everything since we were pretty much wasted 24/7, but I'll give a rundown of the most memorable things.

As we landed at the airport at about 8 pm, we looked out the window to see a white ground that looked strangely similar to the snow in Toronto, but the pilot assured us it was actually sand. And as soon as we got on the bus to the resort we started double fisting cans of beer to start the night off. I dont recall much from that night, but I don't think it was overly eventful. beyond Mather cutting his toe, and a few of us hanging out with some boys from Ottawa who hated the Leafs as much as we do.

The next night we went to dinner, where I foolishly decided to start chugging wine. I must have downed a full bottle in about 10 minutes, and that's the last thing I remember. When I woke up the next morning I knew something was wrong, since I felt strange wounds on my body and remembered nothing of the night. As it turns out, I took a ridiculous spill on the walk back to the room after dinner, and an old couple asked me if I was okay. Apparently I swore at them, and another couple was told that I was "slow" to which they responded "Awwww...."
As I was sleeping things off, four of the boys joined a talent show to see who would be crowned "Mr. Cuba". It turns out Kozzy won because he catered to the kids in the crowd by naming his favourite celebrity as Spongebob Squarepants. He won a bottle of rum, Steve fell off the stage while attempting to do a handstand, and Ben showed off his hilarious treasure trail while doing a striptease dance routine. Funny shit, too bad I missed it.
The boys came back to the room to see if I wanted to hit the bar, only to find me in a massive puddle of red puke, completely passed out right on the hallway floor. Mike started yelling, "He's bleeding" but it was actually just the wine. After James did his best Jack Bauer impression to try and get my to drink some water, they sent me to bed for good. I remember nothing of this, it's all hearsay (and the pictures of it are lost with Steve's camera that went missing that night. someone has pics of me laying in puke, and naked in a bathtub with a strategically placed hand towel. *grimace*)
Ben also got lost that night on another resort and showed up the next day with cuts all over his body. For some reason he was completely out of it the next day, and was unable to speak coherently. Was he drugged? Was he scarred for life somehow? Was he embarassed about some stupid adventure he took? Noone knows for sure. Not even Ben.

The next day we rocked the beach scene with our wicked little stereo that we took with us everywhere for the week. All we had to do was plug in an iPod and we were rolling. I can't say that day was all too memorable (beyond Ben's catatonic state), but that night we met these four British guys who soon became our drinking buddies for the rest of the week. Luka, Nick, Ryan, and Dan were there with some family, but basically hung out with us for the majority of the time.
That was also the day that we met Serge from montreal who liked to play volleyball. We played with him a bunch of times, and it was a ton of fun rockin out to the tunes at the same time. James' voleyball skills were abismal, and even the tall boy Steve failed to impress.

Another day was spent on the beach, playing volleyball, wandering around etc. I'm pretty sure that was the day that Bryan fought a guy we named "Butterbean" in the main pool. It was pretty hilarious, I thought the Dude might drown Bry... considering he had about 150 lbs on him.
That night we hung out with our girls from home and took it pretty easy on the booze. A few of us took a walk down the beach to another resort, but it wasn't rockin the way we thought it would be. They didn't have a disco, the air reeked, and they ran out of booze. Heading home to crash I was a little worried that the rest of our week might be a little toned-down. Thankfully that wasn't the case...

The next day was pretty uneventful, beyond our booking of the deep sea fishing trip which was set for the following day. Steve ended up getting hammered at dinner. Then a couple of the guys had the bright idea of shoving him into a bush, where he landed on a rock and cut up his back. He has a gross scar now. At the time I was off searching for a bird who yelled "Beh" at us all week. I did get a good pic of Steve crying in the bush though (which is very reminiscent of a picture from first year actually). Naturally we got smashed that night, and if i remember right we just hit the disco and lobby bar for most of the time. I think that was also the night that Steve smashed a huge tray of beer and mixed drinks all over Luka, who was soaked and pretty pissed off at Steve-o. Funny for us though.

Now onto the fishing trip - arguably the best day of our lives up to this point.
We had to be up at 8 a.m. or something stupid, and I was just about ready to punch Mike in the face as he tried to wake me up. I'm pretty sure all of us were still plastered from drinking until 4 am, but Kozzy and James grabbed some beers anyway, and were forced to chug them because they were told that no beers were allowed on the bus. We were all feeling pretty rough when we got on the boat, but we decided to start pounding some rum to get the day going. It was an amazing day on the water, and probably the hottest of our whole trip.
As we were cruising out to sea with our skip and his partner guiding the way, a little old dude just emerged from below deck. Turns out he was the one who took care of the baiting of the lures and whatnot, but it was pretty strange to see him unexpectedly like that. He set all of our lines and for about an hour all we did was sing tunes with the stereo and drink. That was, until Steve's line jumped and he had to spring into action.
I'm pretty sure that kid has never stuggled so hard for anything in his life. As he was reeling in, he was saying "I can't feel my arms", and with good reason. He had this 30 lb grouper on the line and the bastard was rolling awkwardly to make it harder to reel him in. Once he landed the fish Gow collapsed beside him, a scene shown here:


After the first grouper, all we got were baracudas, but damn was it fun reeling them in. Each of us got one fish, which was dynamite. I was worried that James the fisherman wasn't going to get one, because he drew the straw that gave him last pull at a reel. But once he did we were all happy and we headed for shore. The captain let Ben and I ride up at the front of the boat on the deck, which was actually pretty dangerous. I was worried about losing the iPod and stereo, but we made it back with no problems.


It turns out we drank the boat dry after they gave us the remaining beer to take on the bus home (the same bus that didn't allow beer, oddly enough). We left the fish for our giudes and headed back to the resort. The whole ride home we were singing like crazy, dropping F-bombs like it was our job, and drinking our beer while trying to stand upright as the bus veered left and right. Kozzy decided to ride in the overhead compartment and then started pouring beer all over us. The other 15 or so people on the bus moved right up to the front, presumably to protect their children from us.
When we got back to the resort most of the boys went for a nap, but Kozzy and I stayed out at the pool drinking all day.
That night we decided to pay 10 pesos to go to a bar called "The Cave". And it actually was a cave. We had to ride on this open-sided bus/train thing for about 15 mins to get there, and teh damn thing was swerving all over the raod. We kept everyone in good spirits by singing oldschool songs like "The Wheels on the Bus".
For the first hour or so in the cave it was awful - they only had one bar open and it was about 40 degrees in there. Mike, Bry and Steve decided to bail as soon as the first bus was leaving, but Bender, James and I stuck around to party. From that point on the night got ten times better. We met a ton of people from Western, got tons of beer, and Ben even had a run-in with a hooker. She was trying to lure him into the bathroom, but he was oblivious to her intentions. Being the socialite he is, he tried to start a normal discussion with her. I stood back and laughed my ass off, but eventually dragged him out of that situation.
Then there was the bus ride home... where I had the bright idea to ride in between the cars of the train as it was whipping down the road. Then I got really bold and climbed onto the roof of the thing, stood there without holding on, and posed for this picture. Note my shirt blowing in the wind.


I bet that fuckin thing was going about 70 km/h, and again it was swerving all over the road. I realistically would have died if I had fallen. Oh well, you only live once, right? Once I got down they had to send a security guard back to keep and eye on me, but we were almost back at the resort anyway. I don't remember what we did when we got home...

The next day was rather depressing, because we knew the week was winding down. We had a good time though, drinking and trading stories form the day and night before. That night we hit the beach party that the resort had set up. There was a stage and music and tons of booze, so we had a hell of a time. There was an older dude who was completely shitfaced, and he staggered around like a fool until he eventually knocked over oone of the big speakers and brought the party to a halt for awhile. That night I got shoved into a pool, and Ben got pulled head first into an excruciatingly hot jacuzzi - both of us with our digital cameras in our pockets. Needless to say, they're both done for. Thankfully our memory cards weren't fried, because if they were the entire trip would've been lost. I had been taking pics all week long, ending up with about 450 of them. If those were lost, we probably would've cried.
Seriously.

We drank a bit the next day, but noone was really feeling it. We were worn out from the week, and we had to get ready to leave the resort by 5 p.m. Steve and I had to steal some towels to stop a maid from charging us 25 pesos apiece for "lost" towels that were actually picked up by the staff, as they were soaked in my red puke. We also bought all of our booze and cigars that day. We said farewell to the Brits and headed for the airport.
Our flight was delayed, but we kept ourselves occupied with some card games. I think everyone but me slept on the plane home, so I got to see the entirety of Rocky Balboa. Decent movie.

So there it went - as we stepped out of the T.O. airport (wearing only sandals, shorts, and a short sleeved shirt), we all pretty much agreed that we have to do that kind of thing at least once more before we get too old.

Deepthroat

I grew tired of the old layout so I decided to change things up a bit.
I gotta say I like the new style, but I still have to tweak some stuff to get it lookin perfect.

The last few weeks have been busy as hell with exams and whatnot, but as soon as my stats exam is done tomorrow I'm pretty much free until finals.

I'm workin on a huge Cuba post, but it's been difficult to remember everything that went down, so it might be a few days before I get that up.


Can't wait for St. Patty's, we're all gonna get proper fucked.

Some folks are born made to wave the flag... oooh that red white n' blue

Ever since the invasion of Iraq there's been increased talk of patriotism in the American media. In general it goes something like this: if you're not a supporter of the war effort, you're a traitor to your country and a coward. Just look at how they painted Cindy Sheehan when she asked "Where is the nobility in this supposed war on terror."


And lately it's all been laid out again on the floors of congress, with Republicans and Democrats both throwing words around to imply that you can or cannot support the troops if you don't support the war they're fighting. Personally, I find it all very hypocritical on both sides - these fat cats sit around and bitch about how best to go about things, accomplishing absolutely nothing, while more and more troops are killed or maimed a thousand miles away. And these people have no vested interest beyond political posturing - rarely would you find any meaningful connection between the politicians and the soldiers. Poor kids from urban centres pay the ultimate price while back home the rich get richer and feel no remorse for any of it.


The Republicans get me pissed off with all of this patriotic rabble - they're gung-ho for war and claim that we must take care of our wounded and send our healthy warriors into battle with the best possible protection and technology. Meanwhile the soldiers are sent into this conflict with no reinforcements on their Humvees and little body armour, and have even had to resort to buying their own silly string to detect trip wires that have been set up as boobie traps.

I watched a clip that Olberman put on the other day regarding the state of affairs that amputees and mentally damaged soldiers must deal with once they get back to the States. Essentially the Pentagon grossly underestimated the number of injuries that this war would produce, and now they're forcing some soldiers to live in rat and roach infested buildings just so they can be near treatment centres.

Bush claims that Americans must do everything that they can to help the vets, but he has done his best to cut back on the pay vets receive, the amount of money their families receive in case of the soldiers' deaths, and the pay that soldiers receive for current duty - not to mention the extension of tours of duty in Iraq.

Let's not forget about Valerie Plame either - the people who label others as traitors are themselves traitors, but far too powerful to be prosecuted (and possibly hanged) for it. It's cool to tell the world about an undercover federal agent, just because her husband is against your politics... but make sure you've got the ability to cover it up!

Another topic of interest is the dismissal of homosexual troops, some of whom have the great asset of being able to translate Arabic in the field. And now the military is so stretched to find troops (even after max-ing out current soldiers' tours) they're relaxing their restrictions on recruitment to allow convicted criminals to join the army. I read a stat that estimated 1 in 10 soldiers has some sort of criminal record. As an average soldier, would you want some cement-head with a jail-tat on his arm watching your back in Iraq? Not likely.

To me, American patriotism would be to follow the principles that were laid out by the founders of the country - something that's become so bastardized that it's hard to even relate their principles to today's government. All of it goes down the shitter when rhetoric about how "the Constitution was drafted in a simpler time" comes about. Have a look at the aptly labelled "Torture Act" and try to line it up with the Constitution. Look at the words of Roberto Gonzales - claiming that the writ of habeas corpus is not guaranteed to every citizen, but it is only guaranteed not to be taken away. That's abso-fucking-lutely unbelievable when you consider the figurehead that's speaking this kind of stuff.

But that's the America of the 21st century I suppose.

Gymclass Heroes

When I was a kid I used to be a competitive little bastard.
A good piece of my front tooth will attest to that, courtesy of a hockey stick to the face back in elementary school gym class.
There was a kid down the street that I used to battle with relentlessly in sports, and a number of kids I'd try to upstage academically. And alot of the time I did a damn good job of things.

But if you know me today, I don't get too bent out of shape by losing a hockey game or getting a lower grade on tests than my friends. In fact, I don't get too riled up about anything. There's probably been 3 or 4 times in my four years in university that I've been truly pissed off, the latest of which ended in my choking one of my best friends. I had a good reason though, rest assured.

It's hard to say when or why I lost my fire for competition and aggression. It's probably got alot to do with my old man, and how I was raised. He was always of the mind that when it came to sports we all ought to be realistic about our expectations. He knew that none of my teammates were ever bound for the NHL or Premier League Football, despite what the other parents on the sidelines might argue.

Then again, that doesn't explain my initial competitiveness, or the fact that my brother is a rage-aholic when it comes to the simplest of frustrations in life. Come to think of it, my dad and bro are very similar in that regard, despite my dad trying his best to raise us as respectful and level-headed kids. (If it was his intent to do so, I'd say he succeeded with me, but my bro somehow strayed from his original goals. haha).


When I watch movies like Friday Night Lights or Varsity Blues (or any of those typical sports movies), I can't help but feel pity for the people in the real world who actually buy into that shit. The fathers living through their kids; the kids who play through injuries that will end up affecting them for life; the coaches who brainwash kids into believing that anything short of victory amounts to sin.

The mentality of our culture is that winning is everything, and glory lasts forever yadda yadda... But the truth is that some yokels down in Texas winning a state championship in highschool football means absolutely nothing to 99.99% of the world. But impressionable kids are led to believe that somehow they are going to leave a mark on the world by taking a trophy home to put up on the mantle.

The winners eventually find out that winning isn't all it was cracked up to be. They'll still be stuck in their podunk towns with only dim lights at the end of the tunnel (probably because sports took precedent over academics or development of maturity and intellect). More importantly, however, is the impact on the kids who don't win under the pressure of their families, coaches, friends, and even hometowns. Pressures like that can really destroy people when the bottom falls out of the dreams they were trained to conjure up when they hit the pillow every night.

Even still, ya gotta love sports - whether it's the major leagues on TV or just a game of ministicks in the living room. But it all comes down to the reason you're playing I guess.

And maybe that's why I gave up my competitive nature - I came to the point of understanding that the world keeps turning and the clock keeps ticking no matter what the tallies on the scoreboard read.
These days I just don't sweat the small stuff. If you win or lose an insignificant game, as long as you don't let it change you as a person, there's no real difference. If you lose a thousand games and still get up the next day to play again - or if you win a thousand and keep your ego in check - it all balances out.
But I suppose everyone's got a different opinion of what insignificant means.