Ladies in Red...Tap Dancing All Over My Brain

"OH NO! The fight's out
I'm 'bout to punch yo...lights out
Get the FUCK back, guard ya grill
There's somethin' wrong, we can't stay still
I've been drankin' and bustin' two and
I been thankin' of bustin' you
Upside ya motherfuckin' forehead
And if your friends jump in,
'Ohhh gurrlll', they'll be mo' dead
Causin' confusion, Disturbin Tha Peace
It's not an illusion, we runnin the streets
So bye-bye to all you groupies and golddiggers
Is there a bumper on your ass? NO NIGGA!

I'm doin' a hundred on the highway
So if you do the speed limit, get the FUCK outta my way
I'm D.U.I., hardly ever caught sober
and you about to get ran the FUCK over."
-"Move Bitch," Ludacris

Excuse the vulgarity, but I just love that damn track. And the bold section relates particularly well to my own driving tendencies. Me and Luda, yo, we just connect, ya know? The moral of that track is, sometimes you just gotta vent, even if it is in rhyme. Play on, playa.

Anyway, on to my thoughts for the current time being. Got a birthday coming up on Saturday, so that's something. The big double deuce has arrived. That's right, my last true year of young stupidity has passed and now I limp full-on into the slow death march that is adulthood. It's really rather depressing. 22 is such a nothing birthday; I mean what do you have to look forward to once 22 hits? Driver's license? Come and gone. R-rated movies? A novelty of the past. Legal to smoke? Check. Legal to vote? That too. Legal to drink (for all that it really matters outside of bars)? Oh yeah, been there. There are no more rites of passage associated with the relentless passage of time from here on out. Other than the often overrated golden birthday which will finally arrive in two years, after this you're just celebrating that another year has passed that you haven't been caught by one of the limitless ways you can die on this rock we call a home planet. No wonder my parents hate their birthdays so much. I know I have come to hate them as well. I like to think my parents are the toughest people to shop for in the world. It's not that I don't know what they like, it's just that, really, how many 40's movies can I buy my dad? How many occasions can I rely on John Grisham to put out a new novel so I have something to get my mom? I'm not much better. I like to think that anyone who knows me knows what I like. I'm easy to please. If it has something to do with wrestling, sports (excepting soccer and NASCAR), music or comic books, I'm happy as a clam. Only problem is, I have a strict policy against asking for specific things for my birthday. Frustrating as it is to those whom I'm actually lucky enough to get gift inquiries from, my penchant for not making specific requests is deep-seeded and not likely to break anytime soon. At least, I thought it was. Until I discovered the wonder that is the Amazon. com wish list.

It's no coincidence in my view that Borders bookstores have a working agreement with Amazon. com. Because of all the stores and websites in the whole of the world, there's one of each in particular where I could literally spend all the money I ever earned and still find something cool to buy. Nowhere else in the world save for maybe Best Buy can you find so many quality products that encompass the list of interests I mentioned above. They are the perfect combination. If you go to Amazon.com, you will find that you can browse through a plethora of media-related items simply by typing in a keyword. Their seemingly limitless database includes goods from years in the past to the latest releases, and if any of them are to your liking, you can simply click a tab and add them to a list of items that anyone can view which you would like to have. You can then attach your own shipping address to this list so that anyone shopping for gifts can buy them with credit cards and have them sent directly to you. No muss, no fuss, no pretentious gift wrapping, just cold hard gimme-gimme-gimme. It makes the greedy little action figure monkey within me--who was supposed to die when I abandoned wish lists--weep for joy. At present, I believe my wish list has over 50 items on it, and it would be far more if I had been able to spend 12 hours in the computer lab that day. Sadly, I had to go home at some point, but I still left any potential giver plenty of options.

Immediately after my crazy commercial lust subsided, I began to weigh the consequences of my actions and the motivations that gave them existence. I was disturbed to discover that in truth, I had been mentally preparing this wish list for quite some time before I finally got an outlet on which to to dump it. In fact, I'm still doing it (just remembered I have to add the Mallrats DVD to the list). So is there something more to the malaise of turning 22 than I anticipated? Has the fact that I have no more "fun" birthdays to look forward to made me regress to some infantile, morally devoid stage of my progression in which my only desire is for more material possessions than I can even comprehend? Maybe. But in an effort to look at the problem logically and save myself from self-condemnation, I think I have to consider another angle. Namely, there's a lot more cool shit out there that I'd like to buy than there has been in a really long time. Not since the video game console wars of the mid-to-late 90's have I been so motivated to want shiny new stuff.

I chiefly blame the emergence of the DVD industry over the past few years. Thanks to this revolutionary new technology, more visual input is available to me than ever before. Movies I love are not only readily available, but available in increased quality with extras galore piled on like so many maraschino cherries on a sundae. And what greedy little kid doesn't love those cherries almost more than the sundae? TV series that I never thought I'd see in syndication again are now available IN THEIR ENTIRETY for me to watch anytime I want. You have no idea how much it blows my mind that I could spend an entire afternoon watching nothing but old episodes of Danger Mouse without stopping. And not only Danger Mouse. Moonlighting, Quantum Leap, Night Court, Degrassi Junior High (okay, that one's not mine, it's my girlfriend's, but the point holds)--the list of entertaining crap I thought long forgotten is endless! Best (or worst) of all, wrestling matches on video are easier for me to get my hands on than ever. When you combine the infinite number of DVDs I would buy in a second with the always expanding number of cool must-have gadgets, paperback comic book collections and CDs that were already there, it's just a cavalcade of consumerism begging for me to set it free. It's not me, it's a condition of society, I tell ya. The scary part is, America is all about supply and demand. All this purchasable crud is only there because somebody, and not just me, wants to buy it. That means whatever sickness I have is a confirmed epidemic. And most people, whether they can afford it or not, simply give in to the plague rather than fight it. So the question remains, what do I do? Do I continue to struggle, to rage against the money-hungry machine while accepting my unfulfilling gifts of socks, underwear and Notre Dame-related collectibles with a smile? Or do I give in to the capitalist impulses within me that (arguably) are exactly what made this country great in the first place? I dunno.

For those of you rooting for me to "damn the Man," you'll be happy to know that I didn't send out an email or any other type of notice alerting people to the presence of my wish list (well, until now. D'oh.). I told my mom about it, but she's not exactly the computer savvy type (try as she might), so I don't think she'll have much luck finding the list much less directing anyone else to it. On the other hand, she seemed to think it was a really helpful idea since my aunts, uncles and grandparents are always asking me what I want and I can never tell them anything without feeling greedy or retarded (consider the kind of stuff I would be asking for. I mean, what 22 year old says to his grandfather with a straight face, "I would really like the complete first season of Hercules: The Legendary Journeys on DVD, please?") So who knows how this story will end? All I know for sure is my parents are buying me a used car to replace my gas-guzzling truck, and that's more than enough gift for me. Much as I'll miss Kota, at least I know she'll stay in the family, and I really can't afford to keep her anymore. And when I do celebrate, I plan to alleviate the no fun 22nd birthday problem by simply having a "21st birthday, version 2.0" party. After all, I didn't get nearly drunk enough on my 21st, so I think God will grant me a second chance to get utterly wasted without dying all as a matter of occasion. And if not, at least I don't have to deal with my 40th birthday. I hear those are hell.


This just in (slightly shorter-winded thoughts on other matters in my mind)...

-The White Sox lost 8-0 to the Indians tonight at the Big Cell Phone. I really don't know what to say about this that hasn't already been said. Except that if the Pale Hose's inferiority complex as it relates to the Cubs has extended so far that they feel the need to stage a collapse even more epic than the 1969 Banks-Jenkins-Santo team, I may have to move to Atlanta. At least there I would know that my baseball team will win 95 games and the division before they screw everything up each year.

-The Bears recovered quite nicely from the embarassment of week 1 by tubthumping the Lions 38-6. I never know what to take from games like this, though. Sure, the Lions beat the Packers in week 1. But then the Packers lost to Cleveland. Which means that the Lions' win over them looks much less impressive, thereby making the Bears' win over the Lions much less impressive as well. And sure, it's good to blow out teams that aren't that good--those are the kind of games you are expected to win. But you can also say that about beating quality teams. If you want to go far in the postseason, you have to beat other teams that will be there at the end. So what's more important in the long run? Blowing out the Lions, or beating Cincinatti by any margin this week (And yes, folks, I am implying the Bengals will make some noise in the playoffs this year. They're for real.)? The big win was nice, but it might get the teams hopes up since the Lions may not be a contender. And even if they are, they may have just had an off week. They did have plenty of injuries. And beating the Bengals in a close game would seem to show guts and character, but it might produce a letdown after the dominance of week 2. And it might also be a fluke that gets the team and its fans' hopes up. The point is, that it is entirely too frustrating trying to analyze the impact of wins and losses in sports, because someone will always counter with the exact opposite of your argument. The best thing to hope for is that the Bears play the same way in week 3 as they did in week 2 and continue beating up on everybody for the rest of the year. But the reality is that they will probably be an amalgam of week 1 and week 2 all year long, and that may not get it done. But come on, the 20th anniversary of the Monsters of the Midway is as good a time as any for a repeat performance. And I personally am in love with the idea of Muhsin Muhammad doing the Super Bowl Shuffle. So I predict Bears 22.5, Bengals 13 in a defensive drubbing that hopefully puts Carson "The ND Killer" Palmer in the training room with a large block of ice strapped to his head.

-Notre Dame lost to Michigan State 44-41 in overtime. I, by a strange twist of fate, watched the whole game from the MSU cheering section of Notre Dame Stadium. One part of me was really glad that I didn't miss a chance to see such a classic contest in person. And I was filled with pride that the student section was not only noticeably dotted with green shirts, but louder than I have ever heard it before. Another part of me, however, died a horrible death from having to hear, "Go Green! Go White!" chanted in my ear all game long by students wearing t-shirts that read "Rudy Sucked" only to have those same disrespectful visitors erupt in elation when the game finally ended. Not to mention that any fleeting national title hopes have gone by the wayside without us even playing Boston College yet. Oh well, guess I'll have to go back to resenting Charlie Weis' success. Which brings up an interesting point: who exactly will I be rooting for when Ty's old team plays Ty's new team? Odds are that tuition fees will weigh more heavily on my loyalties than anything else, but I can't say I won't have something to cheer about no matter who wins.

-I have a friend who is married, working full time, and now pregnant. And she's younger than me. No wonder I'm in denial about what birthday it is this year. But seriously, congrats to her, and may God's blessings be upon her new family.

-Sin City was really, really good. I watched it on a small TV with the lights on and I still thought it was pretty. I can't say I was surprised, though. The truth is that I'm a sucker for Bruce Willis as a downtrodden badass. The names and the hairpieces can change, but for me it always comes back to "Yipee Ki-Yay, mother fucker."

-I love it when WWE makes a free cable show into an event that feels just as important as a pay-per-view. They are trying to do so with the return of Raw to USA on Monday, Oct. 3. Since I last wrote, they have added not only hall of famers but other "legendary" favorites from the 80s to the cast of characters expected to appear. I can't say as I'm too excited about seeing Hacksaw Jim Duggan again, but Koko B. Ware? That's freakin' cool. I hope he comes out to "Piledriver," that was the best original entrance music ever. Besides that, they're extending the show to 3 hours and 5 minutes long, which is technically 20 minutes longer than a pay-per-view, and starting at 7:55 eastern time so as to get a jump on SpikeTV's new TNA show. That says to me that they are concerned about competition for the first time since they used to pull that junk with WCW Monday Nitro, and that can only be good for business. Best of all, they've given the show its own name--WWE Homecoming--and are already announcing matches for it. The Edge vs. Matt Hardy ladder match should be great as long as both guys aren't stoned or just plain lazy that night. And while I'd much rather see John Cena face a real wrestler rather than Eric Bischoff, at least that match extends what I think is a a decent storyline with Bischoff trying to ruin Cena's title reign. True, it's all part of a weak attempt to mold Cena into some kind of Rock/Austin hybrid, but I dig Bischoff's heel boss character, and as long as it leads to another Kurt Angle title shot, I'm on board. The only bad thing I foresee comes from the potential Ric Flair vs. Chris Masters program. Expert internet reviewer Scott Keith may be right after all. Flair's recent success as a face looks only to be a setup for a swerve that will introduce Carlito and Masters as the newest members of Evolution along with the Nature Boy and the returning HHH. And worst of all, Shawn Michaels is the strongest candidate for victim of the swerve, and that might lead to yet another snooze-worthy HHH vs. HBK conflict. I hope against hope that Flair gets to stay Intercontinental champ as a face for a while and somehow break away from HHH. Not that Flair should be wrestling full-time, I just think he's wasted as "The Game's" lackey boy. If not, I hope Cena somehow gets put in the mix as the new Evolution's first victim, just so we can get HHH vs. Cena out of the way and move on. Just one provision: if Flair retires with less World Title reigns than Hunter, I think I may just boycott WWE again. And I will mean it this time! Oh, and what the hell happened to Shelton Benjamin?

Think that's good for now. Brain feels good and empty. Enjoy your autumn, it's here and now. Go Sox, go Bears, go Irish! Go to sleep, it's late and you have a big day tomorrow.

~Jakeman

"Who's THIS guy?"

"On this day I see clearly
Everything has come to life
A bitter place and a broken dream
And we'll leave it all behind

On this day its so real to me
Everything has come to life
Another chance to chase a dream
Another chance to feel
Chance to feel alive"
-"Metalingus," Alter Bridge

Hello all. This be the Jakeman, and I be speakin,' just like the sign on the door says. Know it's been awhile, but between computer deficiencies and schedule backlogs that would make a college technical consultant blush (because really, aren't they the busiest people in America?), I haven't had a chance to just chill and get my thoughts down. So here goes.

The opening song of today's post is dedicated to new beginnings. The new semester has begun, and I swear I barely even noticed. For the first time in four years, I had so much else on my mind that I barely had time to get scared out of my mind before classes started and I had to take my yearly pilgrimage to the realm of the Domers. For example, I worked right up until the day before I had to leave, a first for me, so when I arrived back to campus I had no time to address the fact that I didn't have a key to get into my own house. See, Lockdaddy had a night of drunken escapades over the summer which resulted in him borrowing and then losing my key in a bar. So between the end of July and the end of August I was treated to no less than a half-dozen occasions where I was locked out of my own house. A couple times before 9:00 in the morning, and once it was even raining. I was never a huge Flintstones fan, so this did not fall into the area of wish fulfillment so much as raw, seething frustration. Finally, about a week into the new semester, Lockdaddy discovered a spare house key that he had in his room since the end of last semester that I could have been using the whole time. I'll let you dwell on that for a moment in the same way I did...

You back? Did you scream and holler? Break something? Speculate as to the value of human beings in the world? Yeah, me neither. As is my recent fashion, I let it slide. Lately I haven't been able to get mad at Lockdaddy for anything. Something inside just seems to cry out, "It's not gonna get you anywhere," and I believe it. Maybe I really am learning something about how to get along with people in a mature, adult fashion. Maybe after all this time, I'm starting to realize that all the b.s. my grade school teachers used to shove down my throat really had something to it. Think about it. What good can come of going off on someone for a wrong that has already been committed? They can't go back and change what happened no matter how pissed off you are or how justified you are in your anger. And maybe I used to be shallow enough to take satisfaction in the dressing-down of another soul, but anymore all I ever hear in my head when I get angry at someone is Randal from the movie Clerks: "I hope it feels so good to be right. There's nothing more exhilarating than pointing out the shortcomings of others, is there?" Randal is a dick, but he has a good point. I've been saying jokingly that my policy for the year is going to be that I'm not going to be sorry for anything anymore. College is almost over and I need to live it up as much as I can. I'm too old and I have too much to do to waste my time on remorse. But I think my real policy is that I am not going to waste precious time being pissed at people.

For example, a couple weeks ago Lockdaddy had a whole mess of Glee Club guys over to our house for a cookout. I had no idea such an event was occurring, and was a bit put out seeing as I had brought Aiea with me to the house for a quiet respite. Then as I entered the house, one of said Glee Clubbers took a disapproving glance at me and whispered (a bit too loudly) to the person next to him, "Who's THIS guy?" I could have taken this very badly. I was not in a good mood seeing my house overrun with drunken womanizers to begin with, and I was interpreting the tone of this question as a rebuke; that this person was implying I didn't belong or wasn't worthy to be at my own house. I really wanted to cuss him out and tell him to leave my porch immediately. But my new instincts kicked in, I remembered Aiea was with me, and all I said was, "I live here," and kept walking. In all likelihood, this person just honestly didn't recognize me and wanted to know what mysterious gent was just strolling into his friends' house uninvited. And here I was going to start some big stink and make myself look like an ass in front of a mess of guys who probably would've ended up forcibly removing me from my own home, in front of my girlfriend no less. I'm still kinda stewing over the comment even now, but the important thing is that I haven't acted on my misplaced anger. I don't know if I feel better for it, but I know the consequences I avoided were well worth the effort.

So from now on, if I'm getting actively screwed over or disrespected and there's something I can do to stop the process, I will. But if I've already been slighted, I'm going to let it slide. Why say anything? The majority of the people I spend my time around either aren't going to be sorry for screwing me or are somehow going to turn my justified anger around and make me feel like the asshole. And I really hate that. So more power to Ms. Haddad, Mrs. Jurkowski and all the grade school administrators that told me anger never solved anything. Oh, and to that Jesus guy, 'cause I think he said something to that effect at some point too. I am firmly in your camp. Except for the whole no physical violence thing, that's still bullshit. Because even if I don't verbally go off on anyone this year, I still believe that a good ass-kicking will make me feel completely better. It's just a matter of when and where I can't take it anymore. You've been warned.

Quick hits and naughty bits (of information, you sicko):

-I recently updated my facbook profile to reflect my current tastes in media. Namely, Cake has vaulted up to the top of my rankings for favorite musical artist after playing a stellar set at The Show two weeks ago. I always enjoy live music by legitimate artists so much that it puzzles me how rarely I make it to concerts. Cake played a perfect concert by my standards; they sounded just as good live as on recording, if not better, they got the crowd involved and seemed to genuinely appreciate the outstanding response they got, they played all of their well-known hits from the past and mixed them in with new stuff effectively enough to make me desire their new album, and they were classy enough to leave the stage, not assume an encore, hear the raucous cheers beckoning them back to the front and then return to rock our socks off yet again with the one old favorite they hadn't yet played. As a sidenote, Akon was an excellent opening act and gets an A+ for his onstage antics. I was particularly fond of him bringing 5 girls onstage for a belly dance-off, making fun of his keyboard player's ineffective sign that he wanted water, and his choice to stop in the middle of the show to tie his shoes. I even liked "Mr. Lonely" the 5,716th time I heard it. Good Show to all.

-I also added Crash, Wedding Crashers and Batman Begins to my favorite movies list. Runners-up who got votes from voices in my head but did not make the list include Fantastic Four, Cinderella Man, Must Love Dogs, The 40-Year-Old Virgin and Star Wars: Episode III. Purposely and definitively left off the list were Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and March of the Penguins, officially voted as Jakeman Busts for the summer movie season. Johnny Depp and the one Oompa Loompa were a bit TOO freaky for my taste, and March of the Penguins was a fucking nature documentary that I had to pay $8 to see. Jake not happy. I also anticipate Sin City could make the list if I ever get to see it.

-Speaking of The Show, I am very thankful that Aiea has been dragging me out of my hole on St. Louis Blvd. (pronounced "bli-vid") and forcing me to get some culture. Her choices have been outstanding. First there was The Show, which I chose to attend instead of DeKalb Corn Fest. This was a very hard decision to make, no doubt, especially since I missed Night Ranger on the 2nd Street sound stage, but it turned out to be one I am very satisfied with. We also attended the summer Shakespeare rendition of Henry V, which I loved and may have been my favorite Shakespeare performance ever. There aren't many to compare it to, to be sure, but it was still excellent. Not until I see Shakespeare performed do I fully appreciate his genius for writing every genre: drama, action, romance, suspense, fantasy, tragedy and even comedy. You know some might say that the lighter tone of the last scene of Henry V detracts from the greater themes of the play, especially if it is done as an antiwar statement. I however was damned glad it was there after sitting through a heavy 3 and a half hours of France vs. England, the bloodsport at Agincourt. It was that scene that really solidifed my approval of the production as a whole. Check my facebook quote for a taste. Oh, and Fluellen is my new favorite "badass with a sharp wit" character, right up there with Wolverine and John McClane from Die Hard. And after Henry V, there was Toxic Audio at the DPAC last Friday night. A capella groups are not usually my taste (Undertones, I'm looking at you), but this one is the real deal. I can see why they've had the success they've had in Vegas, as their show really does appeal to all musical and comedic tastes. I agree with the Observer's assertions: don't bring the kiddies, but otherwise for a night at the theater you can't beat these vocal artists. I sound like a damn travel brochure. But if you get the chance, see them live. They're okay on CD, but much more entertaining in person. Except for the scatting, there was too damn much of that considering no black people are in the group.

-Not much of note going on in WWE, as far as I'm concerned. Smackdown moved to Fridays, so...I'll still never be able to watch it. Besides, they've been doing the same four matches for about two months now and it's starting to get year-old Cheerios stale. They need to give Eddie Guerrero his program with Batista, then move to Randy Orton and hurry. And could Rey Misterio get a title run sometime soon, please? Aren't we ready to move past his size limitations and just accept that he's just as over as any face on the show? Raw goes back to USA on Oct. 3, which is good because the lead-in programming will be a lot better than the stuff on Spike TV. USA has the best dramas on cable right now, so they may as well add the retarded, trailer park drama that is sportz entertainment to the roster. I hear that Hogan, Austin and Foley are going to be at the USA premiere. Cool, but I gotta say I'm sick enough of the trouble Hogan causes and his horrible matches that I'm not entirely excited of the prospect of Hogan vs. Austin at WM 22. Well, it is in Chicago and I could possibly get tickets, so scratch that. I'm very excited about it. And Mick Foley has a new contract. Great, but who is there left for him to make into a star? The last one he tried didn't even take because they pushed Randy Orton too fast. Who's he gonna job to now, Carlito? Chris Masters? And don't tell me Ric Flair, because I don't think it's worth the backstage trouble. Actual heat between wrestlers does not make for gold medal storylines. Look at Edge vs. Matt Hardy. No, really look at it and be honest with yourself. It was interesting for a couple weeks, but now it's devolved into the same old unrealistic crap. I'm glad Kurt Angle has the next title shot at John Cena. He's right, he deserves to be champ more than anyone on the show, and he is the best heel in the business when he gets a chance. I hope he gets one more title run before his neck makes him retire. I will miss Chris Jericho; he was criminally misused for about the last 4 years. Oh, and HHH is coming back at the premiere, too. I gotta say, his absence was real nice while it lasted. Watch your back, Cena.

-The White Sox were nauseatingly close to a full-scale collapse just a couple weeks ago, but now they seem to be back on track. A few more wins against quality opposition (not the Tigers and Royals, thank you), and I might even start to get confident about their playoff chances. I mean, no joke, I'm alreday predicting they beat the Cardinals in 6 to take the World Series, I'm just not entirely comfortable with saying that yet. I'm really hoping against hope that the pitching staff can sustain the good run they're on until the end of October. I know that's a long time, and I know there's a lot of factors that could prevent it from happening, but I'm going to try to ignore those factors and just pray a little bit every day before I check the last night's score. The way things are now, I can see the Sox sending five sure thing starters into a series and dominating, Scotty Pods and Tads Iguchi jump-starting the offense, Konerko slugging everything in sight, key hits coming from Dye, Everett, Rowand and Pierzynski, and Dustin Hermanson closing things out without incident all the way through the postseason. And I just want that vision to remain stuck in my head until it's close to a reality. That too much to ask?

-Oh yeah, the Cubs. Um, yeah...so, moving on!

-I know it's criminal that the Irish football team has sunk so low on my blog after that quality whoopin' of Pitt last week, but I gotta be honest, my priorities are elsewhere. I mean, I did buy tickets this year, but I'm selling them at $200 profit for goodness' sake(I'll pause while you throw garbage at your monitor). I just can't get behind them this year as I have in the past, because as much as I want them to spank USC, pistol whip Purdue (are they even playing them this year?) and send BYU back to their cult commune wishing they had taken the Kool-Aid, even if they win the national title I can't get too happy. Why? The firing of Ty still has me steamed, and out of principle I can't fully support Charlie Weis. Ever. Well, I'll be honest, if they win it all I will probably get quite insanely giddy, but other than that, I'll almost feel worse if they have a good year. I'll have to say well, administration, I hope you're happy. You sold our program's reputation for being more respectable than a state school in exchange for 8-10 wins and a bowl. Congrats, I hope the piles of money you use for beds make it easy to sleep at night.

-Bears season starts Sunday. I almost can't put my feelings into words. I'm so excited to see them play that I can hardly stand it; I really think the potential for a good year is there and I want it so badly I can taste it. I want to see Kyle Orton emerge as a phenom and throw TD passes to Moose Muhammad all day. I want either Thomas Jones OR Cedric Benson or even Adrian Peterson to run all over everybody. Hell, all three of them can. I want Brian Urlacher to make good on his goal and become the best defensive player in the world. I want Mike Brown to realize his potential and be an All-Pro safety that QBs and WRs alike fear in the depths of their souls. I want Adewale Ogunleye, Alex Brown and Tommie Harris to have 25 sacks or more between them. And I know I can't see all of this happen unless I watch. Only one thing scares me. What if none of it happens?

Peace. Out. GO IRISH, BEAT WOLVERINES!

~Jake