Yesterday I saw the trailer for The Blind Side. We should all know by now that Hollywood butchers any book remakes. The books are always better. Always. Watch in horror and save your money come late November.
It has been panned with spot-on precision at Mr. Irrelivant, Hey Jenny Slater and Doc Saturday so I won't pile on. But I'll probably end up watching it at some point. I'd make a terrible revolutionary.
In The Blind Side, virtuoso Michael Lewis discussing the nuances of pro football that have led to left tackles transforming from interchangeable cog to freakishly talented athletic specimens that are paid accordingly.
Last night in practice I played some left tackle. If I was taller, stronger, faster, more athletic - I would be at least fighting for a practice squad spot. Who are we kidding. I'd just be just a bigger awkward person. Anyway through a combination of ruthless technique, fat feet and old shoes, this came to pass:
Without missing a beat, someone yells, "You get those in Thailand?"
"Nope, but they were probably made there."
Which brings us to tonight's dinner. My brother's last meal out in Stockholm, at Koh Phangan. The building looks like a tiki hut and has a river running along the floorboards. The food was delicious, but it cannot hold a candle to the urinals.
I told you I'd bring it full circle. If you're still reading and thoroughly confused, I apologize profusely. But you're probably used to that.