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The sports world never ceases to amuse me.

The dancing tacos promotion, the annual Sausage Race, MLB player Randall Simon hitting a participant in the Sausage Race with a bat and getting arrested.

Tim Floyd’s fire and brimstone evangelical preacher look. Mike Gundy’s ‘I’m a man’ speech.

Jim Rome’s take on “Softball Guy.” The bogus Cockfights Across America Foundation started by Rome and the Midwest-accented listeners signing up for it. Frank Caliendo impersonating Jim Rome.

Chris “Birdman” Andersen. Ms. South Carolina. Scott Van Pelt’s legendary voice-mail, heckling Stephen A. Smith.

These things pass the time.

162 games can do it for some.


I started watching major league baseball in 1993 when the Colorado Rockies became a franchise.

To be honest, I still don’t know how to follow a season that long. I don’t know when to get excited and when to tune out. Do I passively check box scores until September, knowing the unlikelihood my team is in the hunt?

Do I get my hopes up over the two or three winning streaks during the dog days? Should I track the prospects, knowing that if they hit their ceiling they will outgrow the Rockies’ small-market budget?

Maybe I’ll stick with YouTube.

This is no news for some, but MLB has problems.

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