There are two months of the year my uncle Larry disappears into a bunker with 17 bags of chili cheese Doritos, a fist full of cash and every bookie up and down the eastern seaboard on speed dial. March because of the big dance, and May. This is the time of year professional sports fans come out of the woodwork like termites fleeing a burning down abandoned log cabin. Pro junkies have options galore. From the MLB season starting to settle in, to the latest Tiger tabloid, to horse racing, to the NBA and NHL playoffs. Heck, even pro soccer is available to those in Des Moines looking to put off that root canal for one more night. (kidding! I love futbol)
I have to admit that as much as I enjoy being a part of the college and high school sports scene. This is the month, that like big Lar, I am locked in the most. In fact, I probably take it too far. For instance, I help myself get over the fact that my beloved T-Wolves most likely won’t sniff a playoff berth until the turn of the next century, by building a dynasty on NBA Live 10. (some people knit, I Xbox) I mean if I can assemble a starting lineup featuring Derrick Rose, Joe Johnson and Amare Stoudamire, it’s about time Wolves GM David Kahn starts earning his money.
Back in the real world, I will stop and smell the horse manure over the next couple of weeks. After all, falling leaves and noon kickoffs at Kinnick and Jack Trice will be upon us before we know it.
Excuse me now; I have to go dust off the resume. I heard that Fred Hoiberg getting hired at ISU leaves an opening in the Wolves front office.
