Will Muschamp’s point about anonymous sources is worth considering.
I’m not cut out for summers in the south.
I can’t stand the relentless frying pan heat, the YUGE power bill and the constant sweat dripping off uncomfortable parts of my body.
I’m telling you, if it doesn’t cool off soon, I’m moving.
I suppose I’ve gotten the worst of it this summer with my car’s AC being out.
August is here, and so are my annual way-to-early high school football predictions. Try not to take anything I say in this column too seriously (like always) because I’m only operating on the knowledge I’ve gained over the summer. Actual Friday night football is an entirely different animal than 7-on-7 tournaments.
I think I remember how exhausted I was 10 months ago. I seem to recall a lot of sleepless nights and a lot of crying (from both my newborn and my wife), but I can’t be sure.
One piece of advice I do remember getting over and over was to “soak it all in.” People told me the early days go by fast and soon I wouldn’t remember them.
People who say they love watching Major League Baseball must go to a lot of Major League Baseball games.
That’s the only explanation I can think of that makes sense.
I do not hate baseball. Far from it, actually.
I’m going to talk to you about how the Warriors have (possibly) irreparably damaged the NBA, but first, I’m going to share one of my favorite scenes from the lovable 1993 comedy, “The Sandlot.”
To set the stage, Ham is up to bat and he’s just called his shot to left field.
I might have a new opinion on fireworks as the parent of a 9-month-old.
For years, I viewed pyrotechnics as one of the only reasons to go outside during the oppressively hot month of July. Independence Day never ranked incredibly high on my preferred holiday chart, but its redeeming quality was always fireworks.
Somewhere between last Wednesday and this Wednesday, my daughter Penny developed sass.
It’s the worst feeling in the world.
Your stomach drops to the floor. Your heart starts beating a mile a minute. The room begins to spin.
You slip into a deep, dark state of depression and anxiety.
All you can do is wait for the phone to ring.
Seriously, you need that phone to ring…because you’ve lost it.
Have you ever had one Krispy Kreme doughnut and thought, “I don’t want any more of those right now. One is all I needed.”?
Of course you’ve never said that because Krispy Kreme doughnut are delicious and you always want many more of them.