SLANT-N-GO: Vacation Starvation Makes Mind Wander

We talk to ourselves every day. Mumble brief reminders to do something. Calculate how much to tip that server at a restaurant. Whisper prayers that a certain person does not give make life harder at work/school/cell block D today, tomorrow or the next day.
We also have internal conversations every day. Thinking about how much money to put aside for gas that day. Remem-bering if we gave the pet fresh food and water. Pondering if the relationship between Jay-Z and Beyonce Knowles is just a farce.
I, too, talk/think to myself because — like “the educated brother from the bank” from “New Jack City” — there is no one to talk to. People still ask me why I do what I do. I often drift into thought when I drive, especially when my thoughts are sports-related.
Like, this one time at band camp ... wait a minute! Wrong story!
Some of these internal interactions commence with just a few seconds of reading the sports section, while others happen with a listen of some sports talk radio or some of that good’ ol patented scattered hot thinking I’m kind of known for.
Myself, also known as “self” and not be confused with Kansas basketball coach Bill Self, and I have some discussions that really either put me at the brink of genius or put me one step closer to going crazy — like Mariah Carey did a couple of years back. Self is the perfect sounding board for ideas because self doesn’t talk back. Whatever the result, it’s kind of fun.
For instance, I was reading a story where college basketball coaches unsuccessfully petitioned the NCAA to expand the men’s basketball tournament from 65 teams to 128.
“Those coaches must be out of their minds,” I said to myself. “They’ll try anything to save their butts and get some bonus money out of the universities.”
My mind reeled at the prospects of seeing the 10th-place finisher of the SEC opening up against Southeastern, or Southern facing the last-place team out of the Big 11 ... I mean Big 10. I told myself I was surprised that the television gods did not try to woo the NCAA with additional money for those additional games.
I also thought to myself, a 128-team NCAA tournament could throw the United States into economic ruin. People spend weeks perfecting their calling-in-sick voices so they can get some more days off to fill out brackets, make bets and watch the NCAA tournament. Can you imagine how much productivity could go down during an extended NCAA tournament, especially during that key first-round game between Elon and Cal State-Northridge?
And also, what about the cheerleaders? That’s adding two more weeks of potentially botched basket tosses with disastrous effects and somewhat-soiled spanky pants.
Speaking of cheerleaders, I was watching WWE’s Raw one Monday night and they had ... male cheerleaders. There is this group of five guys calling themselves the “Spirit Squad,” and they play off the athleticism cheerleaders have and the stereotypical hyper personalities as well. Then the dudes have the nerve to bring trampolines to jump into the ring and throw opponents in the air.
I said to myself, “Self, this is a darned shame. I knew some cheerleaders and they never thought about bringing a steel chair into a game to hit someone.”
Well, I think some competitive cheerleaders would bring a chair, but probably one of their parents would beat them to it in a bid to get their little darling to the top of the pyramid. Don’t get mad — parents plotting against cheerleaders in the name of own kid has happened before.
I told myself that I would not be surprised if Vince McMahon books a “cheerleader death match” inside of a steel cage. If so, there better be a large check made out to my name that clears when I deposit it in the bank.
My mind shifted as news of Ben Wallace defecting to Chicago as a free agent. Ben Wallace went from a throw-in player in the Grant Hill trade to Orlando years ago to one of the most recognizable athletes around. And what does he do? He leaves the team that allowed him to get to his status for more money.
Do I blame him for leaving for more money? No. Did the be-loved Bulls of Daily Star sports editor John Lenz pay a tad too much for a guy that’s an offensive liability in the clutch? Yes.
I thought to myself that Ben Wallace was greedier than the average athlete for one thing — jumping to his previous employer’s archrival. Roger Clemens used Toronto as a go-between from playing for the Red Sox to the Yankees. Terrell Eldorado Owens’ going over to Dallas was just a publicity stunt concocted by Jerry “Botox” Jones.
I thought about it. I never saw Calvin from the McDonald’s commercials suddenly started managing a Burger King. I never saw Joe Isuzu driving up in a Cadillac. I never saw the Super Mario Brothers just bolt Nintendo and started playing on Playstation 2s and X-Boxes.
OK, I’m thinking too much. I’m giving myself a headache!