Don't You (Ba dan dan da daaa) Forget About Me

Ah!

Don't think I wasn't totally disconnected from the things that mattered most over the last few months. Don't you think that. Don't think it.

I watched stuttering web video of Adrian Beltre absolutely crushing the ball in the WBC (which would have been fun had I been in a country that actually cares . . . yes, Italy had a team, but anything you read about "raising awareness in that country" in the year of a World Cup is utter nonsense). Let me tell you now: as goes Beltre, so go the M's. I think we're finally past the years of "this team sucks, I wish they were still good" and have entered the era of "this team sucks, but we're rooting for them to be good again." At least, I am. Felix will be a ton of fun. So we've got that going for us.

Concerning the Super Bowl: My God. I will scream at you if you bring this up. I am still truly deeply passionately furious about this. It's so unfair. It feels like the 2000 election all over again. HOW IS A TACKLE A BLOCK, ESPECIALLY BY THE QUARTERBACK?! Step up and answer it. STEP UP.
Can anyone not foresee the Seahawks being an absolute force this fall? Feel it. But let's give some time to the Mariners in the meantime. This was their city once upon a time. Not anymore.
Concerning the Academy Awards: Crash was undeniably good. But Brokeback was better. It was quiet, powerful, artistic. It isn't about the message being better at all . . . they were both great at saying something. But Brokeback was able to say it better because there was less to say. Right?

I hate to get back to Seattle sports right away, but what else is there to talk about that doesn't involve South Dakota taking a step in the direction of Islamic fundamentalists?

Clearly, this is Seahawk nation now. It took a Super Bowl run for it to happen, to pull most people away from the kettle corn, polarfleece, fresh brewed coffee (and milquetoast) of Safeco Field. Next to those magic months, the greatest sport event in the city of the last few years was the singing of Garth Brooks "Friend in Low Places" at the Apple Cup for all our friends in the palouse.

Oh, and Carl Everett hit a fan in the head with his bat on the first pitch of his first Mariners appearance. I TOLD YOU SO.