Random: having no specific pattern, purpose, or objective. ( I guess you can figure where this post is going).

 Last week I made a grand attempt to watch the women’s semis at Wimbledon. I didn’t make it through the first set. It’s not that I don’t like tennis, I do enjoy the game and I did work for Riverside Tennis during my high school years, but the women annoy me. What’s with all that grunting and ughing. Seriously. Do they need to make that much noise? Expelling all those sounds seems to expend a lot of energy. And on the spectator side, it’s extremely annoying and somewhat embarrassing. End.

Wilson’s dugout rage-out. Not sure what the fuss was all about. I’ve seen worse. Anyone remember this pitcher from Seattle? Plus I think the spitting managers are much worse than punching out a defenseless water cooler. Sigh. Makes a gal miss Billy Martin. 

I was introduced to this game at our recent family reunion:

Beersbee, a drinking game played with a couple of poles, two beer bottles and some frisbees. Remember when all you needed for drinking game ammo was a pocketful of quarters? Drinking games have definitely stepped it up. Maybe they should start a Drinking Game Olympics, a weeklong event of beersbee, beer pong, quarters, bar golf, washers, etc. There would be amateur and professional competitions. Wait, there’s actually a Beer Olympics?  Sign me up. I’ve been in training for years.

I just heard the WWE is coming to town. The one and only time I attended a “wrestling” event, I ended up with my leg tangled in a folding chair and covered in Budweiser. My brother and friends talked me into going to a WCW Nitro event because  of Steve “Mongo” McMichael. McMichael was one of my beloved Chicago Bears, 5-time pro-bowler and a fierce member of the Monsters of the Midway. He became a pro-wrestler in 1995. Mongo lost. The next fight Diamond Dallas Paige came tearing through the audience, knocked me from my folding chair (we were all standing on top of them to see the ring) and as I crashed into the guy behind me, Reid spilled his entire Bud on top of me. I remember looking up from the floor of the Kansas Coliseum to see my brother and his friends high-fiving. Nice. After they helped me up, I went to the bathroom to dry off and while ringing my beer-soaked hair into the sink, a guy came kicking through the door, kicked open a stall and began screaming at his girlfriend cowering next to the toilet. I called security. Again, my one and only pro-wrestling event.

Fantasy baseball update: my Bearded Ladies are holding strong in third place, but the Wichita Giants are making a run. I remain confident this chick will finish in the top three. Top three. What keeps me going is the fact that with each passing game I am that much closer to fall and football. I hope.