The Annual Fantasy Football Post

I feel like I should mention that I'm playing Fantasy Football this year. I haven't been nearly as excited about it in years past, because of a certain distraction.

Come to think of it, that distraction (and the depleted brain power that came with her) has slowed down a lot of my extra-curricular activities, including this blog. September will be my first month since March of 2008 with fewer than ten posts. But it's all good. Totally worth it.

This year our Fantasy Football League at church essentially folded then was resurrected (appropriate, I suppose for a church league) because the commissioner would be in China for several weeks to adopt a baby boy. But we did establish a new league this year on Yahoo, with a pretty fair split of guys who have some experience and guys who have never done fantasy football before.

I felt like I came out of the draft with a really good team. I mean, a really good team. The receivers I drafted were Randy Moss, Steve Smith, Greg Jennings, Vincent Jackson and Santana Moss (I later traded away Jackson, but picked up Anquan Boldin on waivers). Most fantasy owners would be happy with two or three of those guys, but to have all five is a real coup.

You'd think having such great receivers would mean I'd be weak elsewhere, but other than tight end (Owen Daniels) and defense (Jets) I have a really strong team. Matt Ryan and Carson Palmer are my quarterbacks and I have Michael Turner, Thomas Jones and Clinton Portis as my running backs (I also traded for Tim Hightower).

I have a really good team. The problem is, I keep playing the wrong guys. The players that I bench score all kinds of points, and Steve Smith, Randy Moss and Greg Jennings have all had lousy games when they've been my starters.

So now I'm 1-2 and learning the verity of the statement I made last year. You can't win a league in the draft, you need to make the right decisions during the season.

But a good draft sure helps.

Idiot!

I know that we're all stupid sometimes. Especially me, lately. (Nice! Two back-links in the first paragraph!)

But for some reason lately I've thought about the dumbest thing I've ever done at work.

I can talk about this is because it wasn't at my current place of employment, it was when I worked the Christmas rush at Barnes & Noble in December of 2003.

It was a pretty sweet job to have as your second job, pretty low-pressure and it was generally understood that this wasn't your career, it's just your "fun" job that you do to make a few extra bucks. And I generally liked it, although working an extra 15-20 hours when you already have a full-time job can wear you out.

So that's my excuse for my biggest foul-up ever. Actually it wasn't that big, because I fixed it right away, but I felt extremely stupid.

This lady come to the register with a stack of books. I rang them up and told her the total, $23.74. So she whips out her checkbook (I could right now start complaining about people who still use their checkbooks at stores in the age of the debit card, but I won't) and writes a check for $23.74. So I start inputting the amount when I look again at the total.

The computer says $27.34. I totally told her the wrong amount. I know I just told her $23.74 and panic sets in. Maybe I can just put the check in and it will just show up as a little off at the end of the night? What else was there? I could tell her the correct amount and maybe she'll think she made the mistake, but if she writes a lot of checks, I doubt she'd buy it.

I had to fess up.

"I'm sorry," I said, "but the total is $27.34."

"But you said it was $23.74."

"I know, I'm really sorry, I read the screen wrong."

Then she gave me the look that I give the kids working at McDonalds and the cashier at the grocery store who couldn't figure out what to do when I gave her $20.10 for a $17.10 purchase after she had already rung up that I gave her $20. Suddenly, I was a Wendy's employee.

She wrote a new check and everything was fine. But I'm sure somewhere she's written a blog post about that idiot at Barnes & Noble who told her the wrong amount for books she bought her kids for Christmas.

Welcome Back, Czabe

I've mentioned before how I'm a bit of a sports talk radio junky. (Which inspired me to launch a now-defunct second blog.)

Recently, the morning radio show, The Steve Czaban Show was replaced by Mancow's Morning Madhouse. When it happened, all I could think was why?

I was finally starting to get Czaban, then all of a sudden they pull this switch to a show that's not even about sports! (Bear in mind that the radio station is called 1460 The Ticket.) I mean, why would a sports station bother taking out a sports show to replace it with a show that was sometimes political, but general just simple entertainment? I could understand if they wanted to put a local show on that early, but instead they have this (again, non-sports) show coming from a guy in Chicago.

Then last week they started promoting Steve Czaban's return:

"We've heard your calls and read your e-mails, and...we're sorry."

And I have to say, even though I catch only a bit of the show each day, it's nice to have him back. Because seriously, even after all these weeks and months I still don't get Mancow.

Sorry About That

Today was the Harrisburg Bicycle Club's annual Three Creek Century. I, of course, didn't participate since I've rarely had a week with more than 50 miles of riding since the beginning of August.

Actually I've only done the Century once, the summer after Beth and I got married. We rode it together and I think we'd both say it was much easier than we thought - and I'll always say that 100 miles by bike is way easier than 26.2 on foot (even if it takes almost twice as long).

This afternoon I did do what I call the Target loop, since it takes me right through the Target parking lot in Carlisle. It's around 34 miles, depending on what variation I take on it (today's was 33.5).

So I have to say I'm sorry the guy I blew by on Creek Road. At that point I hadn't rememebered the century was today (it finally clicked when I passed the final aid station and saw them packing it up) and it must have felt pretty lousy to have ridden about 90 miles and then have some guy blow by you with a 100 bpm cadence and only say "hi" when he passes.

Had I realized the century was today, I wouldn't have blown by like that. I might have asked about how it was going or if you needed a pull.

Or I would have done the Target loop backwards, because when I passed you I only had gone about 10 miles. Hence, the high cadence and fresh legs. So...sorry about that.

How to Lose a Customer Part II (Really, It's Part I)

A few posts back I mentioned how the alley that my league bowls at lost me as a pro-shop customer because they more or less refused to sell me a bowling ball.

The comment by 331 Miles (whose real name I am just now realizing I don't actually know despite following his blog for some time) reminded me that for some time I've been meaning to tell the story of how I became a loyal customer to my local bike shop.

I had been cycling for about two years and the rear wheel on my Schwinn Fastback started popping spokes. So I brought the wheel to Mountainside Ski & Sport to get it fixed. They replaced the spokes and a few weeks later I popped another one.

The guy at the desk told me that since I was regularly popping spokes that it was probably time to buy a new wheel if it happens again. Sure enough, it happened again.

Nothing funny so far, after a couple years a low-end wheel is going to start popping spokes and need to be rebuilt or replaced. So I bought a new wheel. A couple weeks later it started popping spokes.

I took it back to the shop, told the guy at the desk I had been doing hill repeats and this wheel which I just bought was already popping spokes.

"Yeah, that just happens sometimes when you're really putting a lot of power into your pedal stroke. Hill repeats will do that."

So they replaced the spokes (for another $8 fee) and then it happened again. Something was definitely funny here. So I did a little research and everything I read said that a well-built, properly tensioned wheel should last a couple years before spokes started popping. So I took the wheel to World Cup Ski & Cycle.

Night and Day.

The mechanic checked out the wheel and told me what was up. The spokes were way over-tensioned. They replaced the spokes that had broken, re-tensioned the wheel and told me that I might still have problems because of how long the remaining spokes were over-tensioned. He said that if I do, to mention what happened and they'd give me a discount on a rebuild, to cover the spokes he just replaced.

The wheel did pop a couple more spokes, but I brought it back, got a new wheel built on the existing hub (the rim was totally shot from the spokes being over-tensioned) and have not had a problem with it since.

A few months later, when I decided to upgrade my road bike, I bought my Scott S20 speedster there. I've also used them for all the service that is a little too complex to do myself (like replace the front derailleur on my Schwinn). And I took my dad there and he bought his Cannondale from them.

My guess is that the guys at Mountainside never bothered checking the tension on that wheel, even though popping spokes on a brand new wheel is a clear sign of over-tension that should have been caught by even a moderately experienced wrench. That oversight cost them a customer, not only for the next wheel, but for all my cycling needs. (Including two fairly expensive bikes!)

The Best Cycling Story That Didn't Happen

A couple years ago I was out on a bike ride the day after some seriously heavy rains. The roads were wet and I'm sure my chain (now on the big chainring in the sky) still curses me for it.

At one point I was headed down hill, and I could see at the bottom of the hill was a huge puddle that stretched completely across the road. By coincidence, at the same time I saw a big pickup truck coming the other direction.

As I approached this huge puddle I began to realize that the truck was going to reach the puddle at the same time I was. Which meant I was about to get splashed big time.

I started thinking about who I would tell the story to and how I would tell it, because what was about to happen was hilarious.

Then, just as I reached the puddle, the truck stopped and let me cross the puddle before it went through. I couldn't believe it! A hilarious story completely ruined by someone being extra nice (because, let's face it, nine out of ten people would have tried to time their approach to the puddle for maximum cyclist wetness).

It was nearly the cyclist's companion to my best golf story ever, but instead, it's the best cycling story that didn't happen.

The New Bike

This past weekend my parents were in town to visit Adele (and me and Beth, but mostly Adele). Dad had hoped that we'd be able to get in a round of golf while Mom got some snuggle time with Adele, but unfortunately the weather wouldn't cooperate.

He has been talking for some time about getting a road bike, so he could get more distance in less time than he does on his Fuji Crosstown hybrid, and maybe get involved with the local cycling club.

He had talked to people at a couple shops and was leaning towards a Trek. Beth has a Trek and while it's fine bike, I didn't think their bikes were the best for the price-point my Dad was aiming for.

Since it was raining and we were suffering from a touch of cabin fever, my dad and I went to World Cup to look around and maybe talk to someone about what's available and what they'd recommend.

We talked to Dave, the owner's brother (who has also helped me purchase new road shoes and fit more for their super-high-tech insoles) and he recommended the Cannondale CAAD9. There was one their in my dad's size so we got to test ride it (Dad had me test ride it too, since I could compare it with my bikes).

I have to say, for an aluminum bike, the CAAD9 rode comfortably, but responsively. I'd even say it's a more comfortable ride that my Scott S20 Speedster, which has carbon seat stays and a carbon seatpost.

So after going home to check on what Cannondale dealers might be near their home in South Carolin (none within 20 miles), I went with my Dad (and Mom this time) to the bike shop and he bought his first road bike.
So if you're riding around Rock Hill, South Carolina next summer and see a guy on a white CAAD9 (with red bar tape-nice!) be sure to say "hi" and give him a little grief for his big cushy saddle.

(FYI - after my dad bought his bike, Beth was a little worried that this gave me a jonesing for a new bike. I told her I'd like to get a nice 29er mountain bike, but I can wait a few years and will settle for upgrading my Gary Fisher Marlin in the meantime.)

More Stupider

I've noticed that something has happened to me since Adele was born. Actually, not so much since she was born, but since I returned to work after that week and a half off. I've gotten dumber.

For the most part, I've always had trouble concentrating the first and last hours of the workday, but now it's gotten a little out of hand. I've stood at the printer looking at pages as they come out and then take something that isn't mine and not realize it until I'm back at my desk.

I've asked questions about tasks when the answer was plainly written within the task. I've messed up calculations two, three or even four or more times in a row before I get them right. It's pretty ugly.

I mentioned this problem to a co-worker who has a daughter born eleven days after Adele. He said, "I swear I've gotten dumber."

I had expected the shortage of sleep to take a physical toll; general sluggishness, poor athletic performance, but had not expected the mental toll it would take.* I'm able to do my lunchtime run just as fast as ever, and I'm still riding my bike at about the same speed as I did before Adele was born (and I gained five pounds).

So what's with the lack of mental acuity? Why has my brain been turned to mush while the rest of me seems just fine (or maybe I'm not even smart enough to realize that something else is wrong)?

*Disclaimer: I know Beth is reading this and thinking "Your lack of sleep?" I will note that this sleep deficit is only in relation to my former sleep volume. I am well aware that my sleep deficit pales in comparison to Beth's. I'd even to say a comparison is unfair. She must be made of something different, because if I had as little sleep as her, I'd forget how to read and spend most of the day lying on the kitchen floor staring at the ceiling fan. Giddily.

Is This Kid Friendly?

One thing I've learned since Adele was born is that people love to buy baby clothes. People I never imagined would get us anything have shown up with gift bags full of baby clothes.

While we're very appreciative of every gift we've been given, we noticed something on one of the onesies:

Is it just me or is that big lady bug trampling that little lady bug?