How I (and the Sports World) Spent My Summer Vacation

So after two and a half months hammering stuff together in Kentucky (donıt ask), I found myself at the beach with only a week of summer to go, a stack of books I swore Iıd read, and one of the purest sporting events in America, Cape Cod League baseball, right down the road.

How many games did I take in, you ask? How many of my weighty tomes included the word Œbaseballı, or at very least ³ball² in the title? Did I ever get rid of that ridiculous mane of hair?

None.

Not a one.

Yes.

Why not you may then ask. Well, without going into armchair psychology about myself and the wide world of sports, let us jump ahead to, what some would deem, the point of this essay.

Suffice to say my summer, through location didnıt prove conducive to sports (but plenty to the sun... I think golden glow is an apt enough term to describe my skin). Thus, upon my return to ³civilization² (translation, anywhere with an ESPN feed), I was swamped by the multitude of events and happenings that sports and sporting personages had been through since last year.

Therefore, to both sort out my thoughts on all things sports and to inform those who may have likewise fallen into such a situation, may I present a hastily thrown together look at:

The Summer in Sports

Baseball, while still homer happy, saw a slight shift in National League interest after Junior slumped, Sammy and Mac got hurt and Barry Bonds, who no one, thatıs no one, actually gives more than grudging acknowledgement to, did what heıs done for years: hit, run and field his team into contention.

Meanwhile, Pedro and Randy continued to do that voodoo that they do so well, but national interest likewise cooled, leading me to one of two conclusions:

1) Nobody actually cares about baseball anymore (highly unlikely, given that my father, who probably canıt spell balk, now tries to argue the infield fly rule while watching a game.)

2) If there was a magic number like .400 for pitchers, more people than currently do would flip on the tube to catch Pedro than Todd ŒWhat Home Field Advantage?ı Helton.

Elsewhere, things seem good on the labor front, for now. Ah well, there are enough accusations of collusion in the free-agent market to keep the presses humming.

The football season got underway in August, as usual with plenty of preseason action. I seriously started to miss English Premiere League and billiards tournaments on cable after finding four networks broadcasting preseason games at once.

On the field itself, heroes and saviors were regained (Bruce Smith), lost (Andre Reed), and born (Courtney Brown).

At Camden Yards, heroes aged. At the U.S. Olympic swimming trials, the aged became heroes, or heroines if you prefer.

And, to conclude, some rapid-fire commentary:

Rae Carruth - probably guilty.

Ray Lewis - not guilty.

O.J. - still looking for the real killer.

Jose Canseco - suddenly a Yankee.

Shane Spencer, Ramiro Mendoza, Ricky Ledee - suddenly not.

Brooke Shields - suddenly Susan

Shawn Kemp - traded. Finally.

Patrick Ewing - traded... no, wait, maybe...... no, never mind.

Olympians traded time and money, hobbies and work, comfort and security, for a dream.

Itıs going to be a great year...