This week: UFC shakeup, Braves pickup, Parenting Storytime, and more...
You dropped a bomb on me - The UFC dropped a bombshell on Monday when it announced that Lightweight Champ Rafael Dos Anjos was forced to withdraw from the upcoming PPV fight versus Featherweight Champ Conor McGregor. And the media was abuzz all week as the UFC scrambled to find a worthy opponent to face McGregor on 13 days notice. We came fleetingly close to the unintended rematch between McGregor and the former champ he decimated in 13 seconds Jose Aldo. Aldo passed on the chance to fight on short notice. As did Frankie Edgar who expressed all sorts of sour grapes at the UFC for what appeared to me as very skewed logic. Nate Diaz accepted the offer to step in and face The Notorious One because he has virtually nothing to lose and a small teaspoon to gain if somehow he manages to best the current baddest man on the planet (this title meanders around Earth constantly like World Famous Clam Chowder or Cutest Cat Vid). The real draw to this fight for me isn't Diaz or whichever second-class citizen fighter they threw enough money at to fight on short notice, its watching McGregor fight at 170 lbs. According the latest SI article on The Fighting Irishman, he walks around at 170 and has to cut a ton of weight to get to his division weight of 145. Will the extra weight translate to more power or slower punches? I'll pay $60 to find out. $10 to get in the door. Who's in? Elias Cepeda from FOXSports.com did a thorough McGregor-Diaz matchup analysis.
Baby Braves keep wandering back home - 2005 in Atlanta marked a special time in modern Braves history when rookies Brian McCann, Kelly Johnson, Kyle Davies, Ryan Langerhans, and my personal man-crush Jeff Francoeur debuted at Turner Field. There was such profound optimism that season that the torch was being passed to the next wave of prospects ready to continue the Schuerholz legacy in Braves Country. Alas, it was never meant to be. That team was fun to watch (mostly), but none of those guys really ascended to remarkable heights (save McCann, but his tools translated more to a complementary stud rather than franchise savior). Well, this week Schuerholz & Co. welcomed back one of those guys on a minor-league deal. Jeff Francoeur will attempt to claim a reserve outfielder/late-inning pinch-hitter role with the team that nurtured his early career. I'm truly rooting for him to finish up his career with 4-5 mid-quality seasons where it all started. Nothing outrageous, just a nice, productive stretch as a utility OF that makes the occasional spot start. Of course, I rooted for Dan Uggla and look where that got me. ASIDE: I had a Field Pass one time down at Spring Training and was armed with my Canon DSLR snapping pics of anything and everything. Several players worked the crowd from right to left signing autographs. I'm not an autograph guy; I prefer to capture the moments on (digital) film. Dan Uggla was on autopilot signing fan after fan and was headed my way. I had no pen, no paper, just my camera. He gets to me (we're essentially peers since there's no more than 15 mos separating us) and I'm like "uhhh" and he gives me this empty-handed frozen stare, so I just decide to wish him "Good luck this season" and shook his hand. He seemed really thrown off by that. It was my brush with not-so-greatness.
Random Thoughts
- My phone was down to less than 10% battery with over an hour to go before school pickup and a sleeping baby in the backseat. In conservation mode, I started scrounging around the van for something to read like I was a Neanderthal in the Stone Age. I found an old Sports Illustrated I'd already read and this month's Soma catalog.......after several minutes of internal debate, I determined that this season's Embraceable Bra & Pantie Collection has some very tasteful color combinations. Any port in the storm, I guess. I followed that up with the Everything Koalas book from Chick Fil A. I felt like Johnny Five stuck in a glove box.
- My wife described my new favorite bread as "flaccid". Ironically, its much harder to put in my mouth now.
Parenting Storytime - I'm a hoodie guy. Not sure when it really started, but I love hoodies. They're so comfy and versatile with their big front pocket and ear-protecting hood. If I could get a new hoodie every Christmas for the rest of my life I'd be one happy hood-ligan....(not my best work, but I'm going with it). I recently got a new Braves Spring Training Edition blue hoodie. I was wearing it Thursday night to dinner with the fam. Typical family dinner at a sandwich shop with Cranky and Fussy, the forgotten dwarfs. Fussy the Baby was missing her solids that Dad forgot to pack in the diaper bag. We found some applesauce squeezies and decided "yeah, she'll be ok with Applesauce Mango". Two squeezies down the gullet and a less fussy, albeit still sleepy, baby in-hand. We're packing up our things, doing the standard exit strategizing, and I'm holding not-so-Fussy when I see it. That look everyone knows ends with snotty noses, gagged reflexes, and acidic sandpaper aftertaste. I darted through the exit like I just snatched a bunch of diamond necklaces off the counter. And here it came, the continual lava flow of orange mango applesauce mixed with baby bile. I embraced her for the first wave and got more than a smidgen on my hoodie. I then attempted to hold her away from me over the vacant parking space but she wasn't having that. She held my sweatshirt like I was three weeks late on the money I owed her and I just cradled her into my shoulder and let it all ooze down my sleeve and chest. Cranky the Fastidious Toddler came out in time for wave #3 and quickly retreated back to the tidy safety of Mommy with a hilarious-even-at-the-time disgusted, mouth agape look on his face. It drenched my hoodie and soaked through my T-shirt. I changed into one of my recently dry-cleaned button downs hanging in the back of the van and was good-to-go. In a show of Parenting Solidarity, a random guy (I presume a Dad) walked by while I was peeling off the vomit-soaked massacre and was like "what's up, man" and gave me the head nod approval of "been there dude". It took two washes but my hoodie game is still going strong.
