17 Hours


I Miss Her
December 7, 2008, 1:38 pm
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On the weekends when I have nothing to do, I find myself relaxing in a daze, thinking about Bekki. Not being able to take my mind off of her (although I’m not trying to stop thinking about her). I miss her; I miss hearing her voice, hearing words emanate from her. I would give anything just to talk to her for a couple of minutes, even a couple of seconds, just to hear her emit the words “I love you.” There’s nothing more that will light your heart up than hearing those three words. I love her so damn much. I can’t wait to talk to her tomorrow.

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Hunter S. Thompson Wannabes
November 21, 2008, 11:51 am
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To all Hunter S. Thompson wannabes of the internet:

You are not — nor will you ever be — the second coming of Hunter S. Thompson. The first coming was more of a freak accident than anything else, and I doubt it will ever happen again. Please, quit trying to write like the man. It’s a sad thing to have to watch unfold right in front of my eyes.

I understand that he probably was an inspiration to you. Y’know what? He inspired the hell outta me, too. But I don’t go around writing half-fictionalized accounts of my life where I irritate people and be a raging prick at separate accounts. And I swear, if I have to read one more short story that starts out with “We were somewhere around [blank] when the [blank] began to [blank]. . .” I’ll lose it.

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Why Video Games Have Corrupted Us
November 20, 2008, 7:20 pm
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I used to be an avid video gamer. Perhaps an addict. I would play them [games] from as soon as I got home from school until the time I went to bed. I played them for hours at a time non-stop, negating food (but drinking myself to hell-bound with Mountain Dew). Hunter S. Thompson, I must say, there’s actually nothing more depraved than a man who’s on the depths of a Jake Ball-esque video game binge, and that will either send you into a state of sleep deprivation or to a domain of mind warping.

I’m a writing fiend, but I know when to call it quits. I can write for hours at a time. Sometimes I’ll fire up my laptop and begin a 5,000 word tome on how Randy Moss and Cris Carter would have worked out as a much younger receiving tandem with Tom Brady at quarterback in 1998 (a Brady in his prime). But I digress.

Video game addicts amuse me with their unremitting button mashing skills that poorly translates to the screen they morbidly stare at. And I say morbidly because it’s almost deathly how the eyes both become dry due to avoidance of blinking. As thousands of pixels flash every millisecond, gamers mash the triggers, buttons, and twirl the joystick to victory.

Are you playing the games or are they games playing you?

My video game playing days started becoming hazy in 2006. I still played, but not as much as compared to how much I used to play. Everything become dull and dense. The same trite shit I’ve put up with in other games. I started taking interest in writing and a potential sportswriting career thinking, “Hey, this is something I can and will do. And if somebody asks me, ‘What would you do if you weren’t a sportswriter,’ I would have to tell them unemployed, because it’s my niche.”

The fact that the originality of video games seems to have plateaued, considering that war games are still war games. Maybe they plataued over the last year. Perhaps they truly haven’t — maybe it’s the fact that games still bore the hell out of me that triggers my disdain for the video game industry as a whole.

Next-generation — is that it? I remember watching a trailer for NBA Live 2006 for the XBOX 360, remembering the Detroit Pistons and Seattle Supersonics appearing on the trailer, with Ray Allen missing a shot and Rashard Lewis slamming it in on the rebound, right over Detroit’s Tayshaun Prince. The announcing was crisp and the graphics were unreal. The game released along with the XBOX 360 on November 22, 2005 and it was pure garbage. The false advertising in the commercial instigated quite the buy from gamers, but complaints began to augment over that and the other EA Sports title Madden NFL 2006.

Next-generation, my ass.

I’m still waiting to be mesmerized by what these nerds from Microsoft and Sony can construct. As of now, I’m bored out of my mind and would rather play Rockstar Games Presents Ping Pong instead of try to be convinced otherwise that any true progress has been made.

As for now, I’m going to save myself from the mind corrupting circulation that seems to be incessantly perpetuated by the abysmal video gaming industry.

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People Kill Me Part II
November 15, 2008, 7:05 am
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Every day I’m bombarded with ramblings by people who won’t shut the hell up about anything and everything, meaning they complain, and it’s all a bunch of redundant drivel all the while, y’know?

I’m tired of people bitching about things and I’m tired of bitching about people who bitch about things. I say:

GIVE ME SOMETHING NEW!

What the fuck is up with everyone? Can’t you just deal with life? Is it hard to get over the fact that you’re too lazy and it’s your fault for not eating less M&M’s instead of exercising? For the love of Larry Bird! I lost my uncle when I was 10, grandmother when I was 11, father when I was 12, friend when I was 15, another friend at the same age, and one of my best friends when I was 16. All the while being young. I’m 17 now. I’ve delt with it.

One day I’m going to get married to the love of my life, the beautiful Rebekka, have kids, make hordes of money, and live a great life with her no matter what, even if it doesn’t start out that way at the beginning.

And guess what? If that fucks up, then I’m going to eventually get over it, and transcend my life better than I could before. It’s just I’m that kind of guy who thrives when a challenge is placed upon a perch in his life.

Boo-hoo, my cat was run over when I backed out of the driveway in my over-sized SUV. Waaah, I made a 95 for an A instead of at least a 99. RARW, I dislike the American government because I helped elect the same guy twice.

You hear the above become tasteless jargon all the time, and it makes me want to leap off a bridge (NOTE: I wouldn’t though).

This rant is virtually dead. I have no more to say.

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I am Legend
November 12, 2008, 6:29 pm
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“For he was a man and he was alone and these things had no importance to him.” — From Richard Matheson’s I am Legend.

I’ve had the book I am Legend on my bookshelf for quite some time now, but I never took in any consideration of reading it until this morning.

The reason I’m reading the book is because that’s my mood — pretty despondent at the moment. Y’know how you fall in love with her, and you can’t go a day without hearing her beautiful voice emanate divine and celestial words, you begin to get a little crazy — a crazy that you live for each and every single day of your life.

Hearing that voice from her (if you don’t know who her is, then you’re nuts) isn’t going to be happening as avidly as before for the next couple of weeks, but we’re sticking it out.

In the meantime, I’ve taken comfort in reading I am Legend by Richard Matheson because of the protagonist Robert Neville’s solitary existence on earth, trying to track a disease and fend off zombies.

It doesn’t truly apply to the situation I’m actually facing myself, but for some reason I’m taking comfort in reading the book.

Just another reason why books are a more-than-GREAT outlet for that ‘getting away’ type of feeling.

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So, You Want to be a Sportswriter?
November 9, 2008, 11:36 am
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Writing about sports is enthralling at times. Other times it is used as a mechanic to release your anger about something that is creeping on your nerves (perhaps the BCS system in college football).

It’s a great tool if you’re a writer wanting to get your thoughts out onto the web for people to read because speculation is open and debates are welcome (usually). Debating about sports can either be fun or futile. Fun being if you’re debating two teams strengths and weaknesses, futile being if you’re debating whether a player from a different position is better than the other.

But most people don’t understand how to write about sports.

Sportswriting — you write about sports and you leave yourself out. I know I don’t follow that a lot on here, but I can do it with ease if I want to. This being a blog, it’s not a professional website so to speak, as thoughts are recorded with several “I’s.” If you’re looking into being a sportswriter, you will have to avoid that.

Sportswriters are prolific. There’s a lot of sports news websites, and if you write for them, a lot of times it’s not going to be one blog a day — oh, no, it’s going to be more like five blogs a day, more-so because news around the sports world is like billions of atoms flying around. You learn to write fast and efficient. I think that’s why I have already written so many blogs for 17 Hours — I’m used to writing several posts at a torrid pace. This is a good thing and a bad thing (good because the site is receiving more content; bad because it could be more intermittent — but the good still outweighs the bad here).

You can’t be a writer without reading a lot and writing a lot, so you can’t expect to do anything less when you want to become a sportswriter, so don’t just think that all you have to do is have your eyes glued to the television screen all day to post some incoherent thoughts on the web about sports.

You have to be powered by crafty, sharp prose and have a knack for grabbing reader’s attention either in the lead or in the first paragraph. If you can’t do that, you’re done with an article, as most people won’t bother to read on if you don’t hook them like a fish in one of the starting sentences of your article.

Read anything and everything. I did. I kept reading everything no matter what it was from books to billboards. “Huh? Billboards?” Yes, billboards; I wanted to compact so many words into my mind because at the end of the day it would pay off and I would end up having a carousel of words to choose from when writing. I’ve read a lot and I’ve written a lot, and I’m still not done — I’ll never be done.

Avoid jargon and cliches. Back up your arguments with facts. Don’t talk down to the reader unless it’s a style of yours, but it only works if you’re comical.

If you write now, with no experience under your belt, your writing will be tenuous. However, if you make the strenuous efforts to become better, you will appreciate it in the long run.

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Why Schools are Scared of Hunter S. Thompson
November 8, 2008, 9:30 pm
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Considered this a masterpiece of a condensed rant. The school system is messed up in many ways, as I’ve ranted on in the past for several times about it. They’ll have teachers to force students to read the most awfullest bullshit that somebody had to of been high to have appended it to any literary category in the first place.

Hunter S. Thompson’s one of my favorite writers ever. His columns on ESPN.com’s Page 2 a few years ago were brilliant, the only reason I read Page 2 — I don’t even read it anymore unless Bill Simmons comes up with a new column, albeit I love the taglines at the top of the page as they’re pretty funny.

I read Hell’s Angels and Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas in 2004-2005, shortly before his death. Those books are two great reads that would be admirable if schools would add them to their list of books for students to read in their English classes. But they won’t, because of these three reasons:

1.) His explicit writing may not be suitable for young students (hell, what gives?)
2.) Thompson was an avid drinker of alcohol and occasionally smoked marijuana.
. . .
3.) Thompson committed suicide by a self-inflicted gun shot in February 2005.

Number one, I can maybe see a reason why schools don’t appreciate his work as much as the major consensus does. However, two and three shouldn’t deign his brilliant work and masterful art of literature. It’s BS. I never read anything worthwhile while I was in high school (albeit I still have the rest of this year left), but I hope teens of the future will have the chance to read valuable literature so they don’t become ignorant of all the great stuff that’s out there.

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I Here, I There, I Everywhere
November 8, 2008, 9:27 pm
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I can see the flames growing in your journalistically pure eyes. And they’re hot, I know.

But before you send me the worst virus ever created, give me a few sentences.

I have a hardcore habit of using “I” in everything I write. The way a lot of people go about it makes them look arrogant and as if they know more about what they’re covering than their reader.

However, sometimes I try to apply the Hunter S. Thompson rationale to the issue. I believe writers cannot be absolutely ‘objective’ in stories or else it’s completely bland. This said, why not tell the reader where you’re coming from when you describe something like crowd or player reaction, a team’s energy, or a player’s rhythm. Sure, a column is the place for stuff like that, but, if not tastefully, I think it can enrich a story a bit.

The inverted PYRAMID should not restrict one’s ability to describe a scene. If you write about the experience, what you sensed, saw, heard, etc. there is no need for “I.” It’s like using “I think. . .” on a message board. Of course you think that — you’re posting it. If in a story you are describing the scene based on someone else’s reactions, you would cite that. But for the most part, you are describing the scene as you saw it, and readers know that.

Just don’t ever, EVER use “this sportswriter.” That’s annoying. Hell, or the ultimate copout of “we.” It’s your story, and everyone knows that.

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Books That Will Never Be Written
November 7, 2008, 8:16 pm
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Here are books that will never be published in the history of civilization, or at least for as long as we — or these potential writers listed below — will live:

How I’ve Never Driven Drunk by Leonard Little
How to Keep Your Cool by Bob Knight
How I Converted the Chargers to Become an NFL Dynasty by Ryan Leaf
How to Follow the Rules by Kelvin Sampson
Staying Clean: My 20 Years in Baseball by Barry Bonds
We Hate the Yankees and Red Sox by ESPN
Being a Woman by Hillary Clinton
19-0: The Perfect Season by the Proud Members of the New England Patriots
How to Treat a Woman by O.J. Simpson
How to Become Charismatic by Bill Belichick
Drinking Water, Eating Vegetables and Absolving Alcohol by John Daly
How to Commit to One Woman for the rest of your Life by Wilt Chamberlain (Foreword by Michael Jordan)
How to lead an NFL team to a Super Bowl by Dan Marino
My Life as an NBA Champion by Reggie Miller
Becoming a Role Model: Leading a Invigorating Role for Kids by Charles Barkley
Balancing Your Professional and Private Life by Tony Romo (Foreword by Matt Leinart)
Mr. Halloween: How I became an October Legend by Alex Rodriguez
How to Stay Healthy by Kerry Wood
Quarterbacks I Love by Terrell Owens
The Dummy Guide: How to Build a Franchise by Matt Millen (foreword by Isaiah Thomas)

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Sportswriting and why I want to do it
November 7, 2008, 8:13 pm
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I want a job where I can be wrong almost all the time. A job where I can take pot shots at people who are actually doing what I can only dream about, and cut them down. I want to berate them, make jokes about them, and all else poke fun at them until I drive the general consensus of society nuts. I want to say one thing one day, and then when I am proven wrong, be able to sidestep my original opinion for a more popular one. I want to make bold predictions, and then disown them the moment they don’t happen. I want to hold someone up, put them on a pedestal and worship them. Then, I want to knock them down, spit on them and turn my back when they “fail” me. In short, I want to be a sports writer.

All I want is the chance to pontificate about how absolutely essential it is for a certain athlete to do something, and then when it happens, move the goal post back another 50 yards and start again. And, when I can’t find fault with an athlete’s performance, I will find fault with his/her so called character. For writers, this usually means picking apart their comments, TV ads or shoe color. Anything to bring him or her back down to earth. So, I can feel superior. And, if you offend someone, well, just get them to yell at you, and you’ll have column fodder for the rest of your career.

And I’m on my way to be doing just that. If you haven’t noticed yet, then believe me, I am an overly opinionated, sarcastic, dark/sexual humored, randomly pissed off person. Let me at these overpaid, overblown, overhyped jerks that I want to spend my life writing about on newspaper/magazine print.

When kids are playing basketball in the driveway they try to emulate Michael Jordan or Larry Bird. When I’m writing I try to emulate Hunter S. Thompson, Bob Ryan and Bill Simmons, then turn it up a notch to my own style.

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