Random Thoughts From Monsoon City

Hey loyal readers, I hope you are having as fruitful of a summer as I am. Let me apologize, as I have so often over the past year, for my absence. Life has been pretty busy for me lately and there is no guarantee that I will be able to write as much or as often as I would like to. I am currently working on at least two major posts that will blow your mind, spark all sorts of watercooler conversation, and convince some poor sap to purchase ad space at Real Talk. This is not one of those, rather some things you may find amusing, or that I need to get off my chest. Here are a few things that have been on my mind lately.

Argentina is going to win the World Cup in 2014. It's a perfect storm. Lionel Messi, Carlos Tevez, and Gonzo Higuain will all be in the prime of their respective careers. The tournament is taking place in Brazil, not far from the friendly confines of the Mercosur region. Most importantly, I hate them. Going back to when I started watching in 2006, the teams with the most success have been the same sides that I despise, Italy and Espana. Let me emphasize one thing before I start my take: I would jump at the opportunity to visit all of these countries, and I would consider living in any of the three. That said, their national teams just don't measure up for me. Whether they have long, girly locks (Sergio Ramos, Mauro Camoranesi from the past two champions) guys who look like they don't wear deodorant and will try and 'charm' your significant other after she's had one too many at a Siesta (see Villa, David aka 'Cool Water'). Perhaps they have a penchant for kissing each other after goals. Honestly, Europe and countries that want to be part of Europe (cough Uruguay and Argentina cough) you can't explain this one to me, let alone justify it. It's just creepy and that is all there is to it. Most importantly, the Argentines will be featuring Will Hartman's latest nemesis: 18-year-old Michael Hoyos.

Will, what's your beef with a teenager, you ask? Mikey is an American, probably more so than fellow traitor Giuseppe Rossi. Having lived in Southern California for most of his life, well until two years ago, Hoyos moved really far south to pursue an athletic career. I admire that; it’s certainly a huge step for anyone. However, he is currently under the tutelage of Juan Veron and Diego Maradona, a pair of legendary soccer players in Argentina. In my world, two tool bags most famous for sporting Che Guevara tats. (If you like Che, quite frankly I'd rather you not read what I write. It's for the best.) These guys have convinced the kid to wear Argentina's baby blue rather than the jersey of his real nation. He isn't cap-tied yet, but only a last minute appearance by his sense will change his mind at this point. Shame on you, Mr. Hoyos. I guess more than my feelings towards this particular athlete (who happens to be a great player) I really wish that international sport wasn't treated like free agency (are you reading, Ghana) and that players showed some sense of nationalism.

(NOTE: IF HOYOS CHANGES HIS MIND I TAKE BACK THIS ENTIRE OPINION ON HIM AND HE IS A LOCK TO BE ONE OF MY FAVORITE ATHLETES.)

Moving forward, many have asked why I haven't given an opinion on the NBA. Two reasons. First, Stephen A. Smith and Chris Broussard's all-caps shouting match can be heard by even the hardest of hearing, there isn't much more room for analysis. Secondly, I just don't care. It’s the NBA. There's a reason why I have gravitated towards soccer when college football isn't on, and that is because I am a Timberwolves fan. I am done with the NBA until further notice, or until my team's best player figures out that eating tapas in Spain isn't such a huge priority and decides to save the Twin Cities. Oh, and Kobe is a tool. Get back to me when Darko isn't a key to a team and there isn't average music blaring during the game.

Football is coming, and I have been eagerly anticipating the upcoming season just like the rest of you have. To get myself prepared, I have been watching clips from the past few seasons, as well as this gem from a few years back (I JUST LEARNED HOW TO DO THAT, ITS ON!). Before football starts, I have some advice for the NFL: muzzle the talent. By talent, I'm referring to has-been personalities like Ron Jaworski or never-weres like Merril Hoge. Just yesterday I heard childhood hero Cris Carter refer to the league as "The National Football League" no less than 9 times during a 22-minute episode of NFL Live. Look, contrary to what some may tell you, football is the greatest game in the world. I can tell you firsthand how much this sport has meant to me, and what it has done for me. (Thats another post I'll write when I get famous) But following the NBA's lead of hyping everything to the maximum extant of the law and writing scripts like your applying for a job on Lil Wayne's staff is an atrocious idea. (Listen to these idiots. A contract with Saran? Really?) Let the game speak for itself, it's the greatest sport in the world played at the highest level.

Quick Solution: Limit the pregame and postgame shows to 3 guys. Watch the World Cup, where Alexi Lalas, Mike Tirico (why is he employed?) and a revolving door of European analysts gave fans just the perfect amount of hyperbole, information, and insight into whatever match they were covering. The studio didn't feel crowded, you didn't have jerks like Dan Marino or Shannon Sharpe blurting out sentences like they are being paid by the line, and they stayed out of the way of the product. For the last time, ESPN: People want to watch a game, we don't care what a bunch of washed up old guys think.

Let me apologize for what must read like a rant. I'm not turning Real Talk into a "grind my gears" soundboard, but these are just a few new things that have, well, come to light. I promise my next entry will blow your mind. Stay tuned until next time, when I break down how to build a successful minor league for the NFL. It's always real up here in the Valley of the Sun, and I hope your keeping it that way wherever you're living.