For a one day holiday, I'm getting quite the celebratory mileage out of the 4th this year. To wit:

Wednesday Drove up to Manchester to see the fireworks, for the first time (ever or in a really long time, couldn't figure out which) held at Singing Beach. We actually drove to my brother's house in Peabody and shuttled out from there. What was originally a full-on family event turned into me, Sarah, my future sister in law Jen, and two of my brother's kids as my brother's oldest and two of my sister's kids were sick (probably heat-induced).

Every time we drive up from Wellesley to points north, we get stuck in traffic on 95 from about Burlington to Lynnfield. Always. This day was no different, as it took longer to get between those two points than it did for us to get from Peabody to Wellesley afterwards. And for people who scoff at public transportation, consider what this sort of gridlock would be like if everyone had to take their own vehicle to work.

Anyway, by the time we got to the beach, we'd dropped 20-25 degrees from the heat in Wellesley. You never realize what a difference the coast makes until you don't live along it anymore. Despite the name, the sand at Singing Beach really doesn't sing that much. A succession of storms and attendant erosion have done something to make the sand less harmonious. It's kind of like what happened to Julie Andrews, but not really.

The fireworks were actually quite good for such a small town. Some could have used more height, but all things considered I've seen larger municipalities put on less of a display. Turnout was huge, spurred by the double enticement of cooler temps and shit blowing up.

Thursday Kicked off by making another drive to Manchester for the parade. We were on the fence about this, but as it was our only likely parade option. Got there in good time, and settled in up the street from our old house. That wasn't as odd as I thought it would be; what was odd was driving away afterwards and seeing the new occupants of the house on the porch. That really drove it home that I wouldn't be watching parades from there anymore.

The parade itself was a typical Manchester 4th of July affair. You get:

1. Fire engines. Many of them. All with sirens going. Ouch.
2. Antique cars. Fewer of the pre-1950 cars, more from the 1950 to 1970 range.
3. Non-antique cars. There's a local Corvette club that drove a variety of models, and the usual display of local Harley-Davidson riders. A couple of them were friends of mine (older ones) in high school, but we've really not kept up at all.
4. "Floats." In quotes because the offerings will never be mistaken for Tournament of Roses entries. Yankee Fleet, a deep sea fishing and whale watching outfit in Gloucester, had a good one with a breaching humpback that blew water out of its blowhole.
5. Bands. Not the high school band, though. I don't think they've marched in a good 15 years in any parade. Instead, a number of what I guess are professional bands are trucked in from all over to play. Three were from the Boston area, but there was one from Orlando as well. The best-received band is usually a local steel drum outfit who are among the few non-white people in the parade. The Manchester version of diversity.
6. Military, retired military, or faux-military. Most often American Legion reps and war recreationists.
7. Politicians. All local- selectment, state rep and senator, perhaps even someone running against the incumbent. No Democrats, given the GOP majority in our districts.
8. Delays. It's not the most well organized parade, so you get two or three intermissions.

The last facet of the parade changes greatly at the end of the route, where my friend Nancy and her husband Dave (who I suppose is a friend as well, though I really don't know him all that well) have just moved into a house. Visited with them after the parade finished at our location, only to run into the end of the parade at their house. At their location, the parade was pretty much individual units with a minute or two between each. At their point, the parade was something like 2 hours long.

From there, we went up to my sister's. There is no easy way to get from Manchester to Plaistow, New Hampshire. Mapquest wants to send you back down 128 to 93, then back up to 495. In reality, there are state routes (133 and 97) that are as fast, especially on holidays. We took 97, which goes through a number of the lightly populated towns that barely count as Boston suburbs- Boxford, Topsfield, the hated Georgetown (high school rivals), and Groveland. Got lost in Haverhill, missing the turn off that would have taken us right up to my sister's. Nothing like getting lost when the bank you pass is showing 100 degrees on its sign.

By the time we got to my sister's house, we were half wacky from the heat. This prompted an emergency trip to Wal Mart, where we bought really cheap and ugly (at least mine) bathing suits. I then spent most of the afternoon in my sister's pool. It was a typical cookout/party at my sister's house, got to see my family and several friends of my sister's who I really don't know.

Got home, watched the Boston Pops concert and fireworks. I could have done without Barry Manilow. There was an 8 year old girl who put the Pledge of Allegiance to music and performed it, which was fine except for all the sunshine apostles who cheered when she sang the "under God" line. I'm sure we'll see all of them in church on Sunday.

Friday The original four day work week at Babson would have had us open today, unless you could squeeze the Friday hours into Monday through Wednesday. And then on Monday afternoon our new president declared Friday a "presidential holiday." Which is why I'm writing this from the terminal room at BU's computing center on Cummington Street, waiting for Sarah to get out of work so we can go to my brother's for a cookout.

I'm going to need the weekend just to recover from the week.

Remember how irradiating the mail was supposed to knock out anthrax and make the world safe again for useless coupons for local services you don't use? Well, it's apparently not that simple.

Seems that irradiated mail may be making mail handlers sick. My favorite quote from Senator Charles Grassley:

"Irradiating the mail was and is a big experiment."

Last time I checked, if you were going to experiment on humans you needed their permission. This may not be the same as strapping someone down and making them ingest a half gallon of Bactine, but it seems a little short-sighted to zap the mail without establishing some sort of protocols to protect the people who spend the most time with the mail.

Another example of how Congress is looking out for the working man!

Twice yesterday I tried to post about the Sox-Braves game, as Sarah and I were in attendance for the extra innings fiasco. Twice the computer or human error led to no post. So, suffice it to say, it was a good comeback wasted.

I'm still not sure why Grady Little tried to pinch hit with Tony Clark (who as a hitter is in more of a funk than Bootsy Collins) or why he left Ugie out to pitch a second inning. Most folks will remember Willie Banks dropping the ball while trying to make the force out a first, but the game was well out of reach by then.

I suppose a five game set against the Blue Jays just may be what the doctor ordered to break the interleague play-induced slump, but there's a definite crash and burn into the All Star break option, too.

Speaking of the All Star game, nice to see that Joe Torre and Bob Brenley didn't load up on marginally deserving players from their own teams.

Oh, wait. Never mind.

Did a few things over the weekend of marginal interest:

Joined a health club Sarah and I are now members of the BSC in Wellesley, which is located about 500 feet from where we live. Unfortunately, it's at the bottom of a hill, so if we walk it means we're hiking up the hill after whatever workout we do, which kind of sucks.

The club's pretty nice, lots of machines in good order, tennis, lap pool, whirlpool, steam, and sauna. Went Sunday morning and did some treadmill and bike while watching Brazil win one for the thumb.

If I can keep going when the place is empty, I think I'll be OK with it. Working out at peak times probably not so much, but I'll just have to suck it up.

Saw The Bourne Identity Didn't plan to go to the movies on Friday night, but a two hour campus-wide power outage to improve something in the electrical system led us to leave campus to find entertainment. Wound up seeing this as (a) tickets for Minority Report aren't available on-line, and (b) it started the latest of movies we were interested in, giving us the most time to eat (dined at Bennigan's, which was OK).

The movie was loud. I suppose that's something you can say about any movie nowadays; I imagine there were parts of Lilo & Stitch that would make your fillings rattle. Both Sarah and I are of the opinion that Matt Damon is a better actor than Ben Affleck, which is also probably not that surprising a statement. Not that either of them are blowing people away with their craft. It could be that Damon's failings (All the Pretty Horses, The Legend of Bagger Vance for example) are less noticable than Affleck's (Pearl Harbor, Reindeer Games and so on). Or that Damon occasionally plays an interesting character (Bourne, Tom Ripley), while Affleck plays guys with big teeth.

All things being equal, we probably should have scouted around for a place showing Monsoon Wedding.

Played some NTN For those of you who aren't aware of what NTN is, it's an interactive multiple choice trivia game you play at bars and restaurants. You get a little keyboard-type thing (officially called a "Playmaker") and punch in answers.

It's not always the easiest game to find (most bars around here seem to keep it in the corner, to isolate the geeks from the rest of the customers), but the aforementioned Bennigan's in Framingham has it, and as Sarah had reached soul-sucking levels of boredom (I was content watching Apollo 13, even if it was edited for TV) we trooped over.

I suppose it wasn't a bad night out, as we both had fun, and I got to beat Sarah in every game we played (even the music game, which was surprising, as it's not my strength). The one downside was the ripping off as far as beer prices go. Paid $5 a pint for a good local beer. Lots of locals (or a mix of Framingham State students and locals home from wherever they go), no real problems though (occasionally you'll get the drunk person who will ask you what you're doing while a game's going, and try to apply drunken idiot logic as to why NTN may be preferable to pounding Bud Light).

Kind of an up and down weekend, but fairly restful. Which I'll need going into the holiday and the crush of family that comes with it.

Speaking of holiday, happy Canada Day!

I'm sure you've all heard that a federal court in California found the Pledge of Allegiance unconstitutional based on its use of the phrase "under God." And you've got the typical outraged cry from the populace that the court's gone too far, and legal scholars who don't see this holding up. It won't, and probably shouldn't.

But consider what President Eisenhower wrote when he signed the bill that included that phrase into the pledge: "Millions of our school children will daily proclaim in every city and town, every village and rural schoolhouse, the dedication of our nation and our people to the Almighty."

If I weren't of the Judeo-Christian family of faiths, that sort of talk would make me a little nervous, especially if I'd spent part of my life in a country where being the wrong religion can lose you a job, shut you out of schools, or get you killed. And given the whole "Christian right" thing, I can see where some may be concerned now. Thankfully, we live in a large and pluralistic society, one which if the government woke up one morning and told us "Oh, by the way, the only way you're getting a job, education, or the right to vote is to become Presbyterian," we'd probably find a less intrusive government post haste.

And besides, the kids can just not say "under God." Or they can put in their own: "under Jehovah," "under Allah," "under Baal," whatever. That's kind of what I do when I'm bored during the national anthem, and I start to channel Enrico Palazzo.

Which reminds me of a funny story. I was at a Nashville Predators--Chicago Blackhawks game back in 2000, and during the anthem the scant Hawks fans in the crowd went nuts, as they do at every home game. Yelling, cheering, the whole bit. The home fans, not used to this sort of thing, would turn and look every few seconds, probably to make sure the Chicagoans weren't going to start throwing things. So, once it's all over, the locals start in, led by a woman who asked "Don't you have any respect?" Clearly, these folks had never seen a game played in Chicago on the TV, and I thought their defense of our unsingable, wordy anthem was cute. Especially considering that some of them would have prefered Dixie to anything else.

Two examples of how my life goes sometimes.

1. On Monday, I gave the campus life presentation to a group of incoming students here for the Freshman Assessment Program (at least that's what I think it's called; nope, it's the Foundation Assessment Program). It's a fun filled day of testing and getting talked to by administrators. It's not even an overnight, taking away some of the zaniness that some orientation programs present.

In any case, the usual m.o. was to get to the FAP lunch location early, spread out, and wait for the kids to show and eat with them and answer their questions (the one time students actually talked to me, we wound up talking about hideous sports injuries). Past lunches included a teriyaki chicken and lasagne. What is it on my day? Tacos.

You may be thinking, "So?" Consider this: I was wearing a white shirt. And have a tendency to spill.

But the expected catastrophe didn't occur. O happy day! The talk went fine, the tour only marred by my forgetting my ID to get into one of the buildings, and some of the students were actually engaging as we walked.

So I dodged one there, but fate will undoubtedly get me back when I least expect it.

2. Germany beat South Korea yesterday to get into the World Cup final. I did predict this (not the score, but the result), so what's the problem?

In my World Cup Challenge group on ESPN.com, I originally picked Germany to win it all. I then read more about the groups and saw what others picked, and changed my finals selection to Italy. You see how well that worked out.

At least I didn't have any money on it.

I also have an unrelated question for you, my public. Has anyone out there ever been to Normandy? I'm thinking about trying to get over to the D-Day sites while I'm over there, and could use some suggestions as to how to get there from Britain, the best places to go, and so on. I'd like to fit in Mont St. Michel and the Bayeux Tapestry as well, but will take what I can get. Write me if you've got pointers!

Oh, yeah, World Cup semis. Let's see how bad I can screw this up.

South Korea v. Germany Should be a lot like the German's last game, with their size against the Koreans' speed. I'm going for size this time, especially given that the Koreans have gone to OT their last two games.

And is it me, or has the schedule been changing to keep the Koreans in Korea each round? I could have sworn that this game was to be played in Japan. I suppose they want the host to play in their own country as long as possible, but if you've got a schedule you should stick to it.

In any event, Germans 2-1.

Brazil v. Turkey First round rematch, which Brazil took 2-1. Turkey played well in that match, and if they can get the Brazilians to make the same mistakes this time around, they've got a shot. Play maker Ronaldinho (apologies if I've misspelled) is out for this game, but Brazil's so deep it may not matter.

Just to be a pain I'm going to say 1-0 Turkey on a golden goal by Hasan Sas. It beats any analysis I could try to come up with.

A little while back you may remember that I mentioned a movement to stuff the major league baseball All Star Game ballot box with Minnesota Twins and Montreal Expos votes. While the movement hasn't quite taken off like some did, there's evidence that it's having some effect.

It's more noticable with the American League, as there is a Twins player in the top five at each position. Torii Hunter is among the top three outfielders, meaning he'd start. Considering he's actually had an All Star year, this result may not be solely from the ballot stuffing. But it couldn't have hurt.

Most of the other Twins aren't that close to the position leaders. Corey Koskie is about 110,000 votes behind Shea Hillenbrand of the Red Sox for third basemen. A. J. Pierzynski is in third for catchers, while Ivan Rodriguez of the Texas Rangers, who's only been playing for a couple of weeks after a back injury, is in second. So perhaps he'll sneak in on the bench.

The Expos are finding less success here, perhaps because Internet folks are less sympathetic with the idea of folding the team, given their lack of fans. But they may wind up with two starters, Vladimir Guererro (who is third for outfielders) and Jose Vidro (who is less than 10,000 votes behind Roberto Alomar at second base). Vladi is a little off his usual game, but is still a strong outfielder, while Vidro probably deserves the start given the year he's had.

Other Expos do make the top 5 at third, short, and catcher, but none are in striking distance of the front runner. Fernando Tatis is in fifth for third basemen, and Orlando Cabrera is in the same spot for shortstops. Michael Barrett is in third for catchers, and is about 5000 votes behind Benito Santiago for second (Mike Piazza has more votes than the two combined).

Internet voting ends on Thursday, so I'll channel Richard J. Daley and ask you to vote early and often. You have 25 votes to spend.

Came across the news last night that Southwest Airlines has a policy regarding people who don't fit in one seat. Turns out that they want folks to buy a second seat if the first isn't enough.

I'll admit to being of two minds on this. One the one hand, people who clearly need a second seat (like this guy) probably should pay for it, at least on fully booked flights.

Where I would have trouble with this policy is in one of two cases:

1. The flight's not full. One hopes that the gate attendants, knowing that the flight only has 50 people, wouldn't force the issue. Given Southwest's sky train approach, though, they might have to check the 4 or 5 stops to a destination if the person is on one of the milk runs. It's a workable situation, though.

The page I link to above suggests that the person has to buy the seat first and then get reimbursed if the flight isn't full. That's stupid. It's not commuter rail; the odds of walk up traffic filling a plane that has more than five empty seats on it are infintessimal.

2. People who are big,but not so big that they clearly need a second seat. I'll use myself as an example here. Having flown Southwest, I can vouch for the fact that the 18 3/4 inches they have per seat doesn't quite do it for me. My desk chair has somewhere between 20 and 21 inches between the arm rests, and that's OK.

(As an aside, is it me, or do veal cattle get more than 18 3/4 inches? The next time I go to Fenway I'll have to measure my seat there to see how big they are. Just hope the usher doesn't force me to pony up more dough.)

So do I have to buy a second seat or not?

Also, is this solely a weight issue, or do other body shapes come into play? Most of my weight is, in true Irish fashion, front-loaded. But I have big shoulders and long arms, which more often than not invade my neighbor's airspace. If I'm on the aisle, I'm probably going to have a foot or a knee in the aisle.

Does this merit a second seat? The Southwest page mentions girth, which I don't think covers long arms or big feet. From our friends at dictionary.com:

1. The distance around something; the circumference
2. Size, bulk

Perhaps I should ask my boss's Magic 8 Ball again. But she's in a meeting.

I've never been asked to buy a second seat, and for some reason I don't think I'm quite big enough for Southwest's fatty profiling.

At least I hope not.

The airlines are doing one thing to help in this regard- they don't serve food anymore. Nothing like spending half the day in a plane trying to make do with two ounces of honey roasted peanuts and half a Coke. I'm almost surprised Ensure or Slim-Fast or someone isn't trying to get their shakes on board as a meal equivalent.

In sum, it appears that Southwest doesn't LUV everybody. Still better than flying US Air, though.

Looking back, I got three winners from the World Cup quarterfinals. None of the scores were right, but at least I got the teams. I did get the score right in the Sweden-Senegal match, just mixed up the teams. Yeah, that's the ticket.

I should stick to the NFL playoffs. Nah. Set your alarm clocks, kids.

Brazil v. England There's a very winner take all feel to this match, especially after England throttled the Danes. Brazil's not playing their best football, but even at 80 percent they're still a top 5 team. Belgium gave them more of a workout than I expected. Then again, Belgium was probably playing for the tie and hoping for a break in PKs.

I really have no idea how this one is going to go. So I'll go with the side that seems to be playing better football with each game: England. 2-1, golden goal from somebody. Michael Owen seems most likely, but he's a little beat up and Brazil won't leave him alone. Perhaps Sol Campbell or Teddy Sheringham.

Germany v. US After their opening 8-0 throttling of Saudi Arabia, Germany's been good but not great. They gave a tie away to Ireland, gave Cameroon the business, and then struggled to get past Paraguay. The Germans have only missed the quarterfinals once- in 1938. So perhaps they were destined to wind up here regardless.

The Germans are big, and can use that size to their advantage, especially on corners. Which means we may see a lot more deep clears and less concession on set-pieces. The hope would be that on the clears some of the speedier US players, such as Donovan or Beasley, can get to them and counter-strike quickly. Unfortunately, it may mean that we spend 90 minutes watching a larger-scale version of ping pong.

The US could also use its speed to wear down Germany's best players in the first half, and then stick the knife in that much more by subbing in Cobi Jones in the second half. If the US can play tight D and turn the offensive part of the game into a track meet, they've got a shot.

Being a homer worked with the Pats, so let's see how it works here. US continues its improbable streak with a 2-1 win; an early John O'Brien goal, with Sanneh crossing into Brian McBride for the winner.

Hey, a guy can dream, right?

South Korea v. Spain As much as the US run has been the stuff of dreams, the Korean express through the World Cup is like some sort of crystal meth dipped in LSD freak show. People screaming and banging drums for two hours. A stadium full of red shirts. 80 some odd minutes of hypnotic and hallucinatory sights and sounds before a guy probably named Kim, Lee, or Choi puts one in the back of the net.

You'd be hard pressed to find a team that's done more with the home field advantage than South Korea. The US did well in 1994, and France rode the home crowd to victory in 1998, but for a team that never won a World Cup game before to get to the quarters, and then topple Italy? It's like something out of science fiction.

Spain, on the other hand, is enjoying a good tournament so far, certainly better than their first round and out four years ago. Nine points in group play set them up for a grueling match with Ireland, which they won but may have resulted in Raul, their best player, being unavailable for this match-up. A problem, given that he's scored one third of Spain's goals.

Arsene Wenger, Arsenal's manager, said this about Spain when looking at their first round group: "They always seem to go out unluckily." Ask this guy to pick lottery numbers quick, because a home crowd plus a star's injury tend to add up to an unlucky result.

Koreans win 1-0 on a Spanish own goal. How's that for unlucky?

Turkey v. Senegal Two teams that no one thought would get past the first round play for a berth into the semis. Whoever loses the England-Brazil match is going to look at this pairing and cry.

Turkey's looked good at times, and not so swift at others. I still haven't seen Senegal play, but this Diop guy seems to be the real deal.

Hmm, so how do I pick this? I go into my boss's office and ask her Magic 8 Ball.

Will Turkey beat Senegal? "As I see it, yes."

Will Senegal beat Turkey? "Very doubtful."

I should have started using the Magic 8 Ball a long time ago.

3-1 Turkey, for the lack of anything better.

You want fun? Call the company (or companies) that handle your student loans and ask them for the payoff amount.

You want real fun? Do that and then send in the checks for that amount.

My bank account, swollen like Hasim Rahman's head, will soon shrink to the size of, uh, something with a tiny head.

OK, not my best metaphor, but you get where I'm going.

Truth be told, I've only gotten to ask about payoff amounts once. One lender provides it on their automated system (which, in other circumstances, seems cruel), while another loan actually lists the payoff on the bill so I can see my progress month to month. I do have one other loan I get to do this with, but it's not arrived just yet.

In any event, I will soon be debt-free (or debt really small). I thought I'd be old and grey before that happened.

Well, one out of two ain't bad.

On behalf of American soccer fans everywhere, I'd like to thank the South Koreans for their 1-0 win. It's the least they could do for us keeping them out from under the communist bootheel 50 years ago.

The round of 16 is now set, and to many people's surprise, the US is in. I wasn't as surprised, as I had them picked to get to this round, but I will say this is not the route I figured they'd take. You figure they go 1-1-1, and it's a loss to Portugal, a tie with Poland or the Koreans, and a win over the other (personally figured win over the Koreans, tie the Poles).

Then again, I underestimated both hosts, as I didn't have either of them going through. I know, a host nation has never failed to go through, but in this case I thought I had an argument, seeing as neither country had ever won a World Cup game. What I failed to take into account was (a) the amount of preparation both countries put in to developing their teams, especially Japan, whose J-League started around the time of MLS, and (b) the intense support of the home fans, creating a real home field advantage.

OK, so we've got 16 teams left. Here's my take on the round:

US v. Mexico There may be no team the US knows better than Mexico, and vice versa. Constant clashes in CONCACAF play and a favored friendly match-up, there will be no secrets from either team.

The first key for the US is to put Jeff Agoos on a plane headed in any direction away from the stadium. The US player with the most caps before playing a World Cup game, Agoos has done nothing to show that he deserved to get off the bench. His "highlights" include:

* The own goal scored for Portugal
* Letting Seol loose to score the equalizer for South Korea
* Poor marking that allowed his man to score Poland's second goal

Agoos met Bruce Arena (the US coach) in high school, played for him at Virginia, and has been a member of the national team since before Arena's arrival. One hopes this doesn't further cloud Arena's judgment in setting the lineup against Mexico.

The Mexicans have had a great tournament, beating Ecuador and Croatia and drawing the Italians. I'm not sure where the US will attack them. The US never plays Mexico well, but that's usually because we're playing them in Mexico or a Mexico-friendly venue (someone got smart and put Mexico's visit to the US for World Cup qualifying in Columbus, Ohio. In March. US wins, 2-0).

I'm guessing that Mexico will win thanks to a greater talent pool, but it won't be easy. 1-0 or 2-1, perhaps even a little OT or PKs if the US can pick itself up of the floor and come up with a game plan to contain Mexico's attack.

Germany v. Paraguay Germany played very un-German soccer in the run up to the tournament. Qualifying was a chore, and there didn't seem to be anyone on their side who struck fear in the hearts of opponents.

Then they beat the Saudis 8-0 and it's like old times.

Paraguay is a good team with a very good goaltender. They showed some heart in getting this far, scoring three second half goals against Slovenia to take the second spot. They've also showed some dodgy play, both in their tie with South Africa (which Chilavert missed) and loss to Spain. Perhaps they've found their stride, but it's a fair question to ask which Paraguay will show up.

Germany wins 2-0.

Denmark v. England A personal quandry here. I like Denmark. Want to visit there. If descriptions of the national character are accurate, I think I identify with the Danes.

Then, there's Sarah. Her mom's English. She's lived in England. She likes things that are boiled within an inch of their life. She likes the Spice Girls, one of whom is married to English captain David Beckham.

And I can't root for a tie anymore.

The Danes were the surprise winner of their group, which included France. They weren't even a solid second place choice, sharing that honor with Uruguay. But they played no-nonsense, limited mistake soccer to get to the top.

The English worked a little penaly magic against Argentina to get here, drawing against Nigeria and Sweden. They've looked pretty good, but haven't quite put it all together. Beckham's injured foot has put him in more of a support role to Michael Owen. Which is fine, given Owen's level of play so far.

Which may be the difference here. Denmark doesn't have a big-play guy, and if both team play with their tendency to draw, it's going to be a big play that'll turn things. The Three Lions go through 1-0.

Sweden v. Senegal Sweden won the Group of Death, probably the least favored choice to do so at tournament's beginning. Senegal is the surprise of the tournament, qualifying past France and Uruguay with players not well known- until now.

For reasons I can't articulate, given that I've not really seen either team play, I think Senegal's magic ends here. 2-1 Sweden, who has too much experience to let Cinderella get the best of them.

Ireland v. Spain This could be the most entertaining match of the round. Spain has shown real flair, and hasn't displayed the tendency they've developed over the last decade or so to underwhelm despite being deep. Ireland has opened up their offense, no longer happy with playing for the tie on all occasions. They still tie a lot (drew with Germany and Cameroon), but now it's due to their skill level, not their game plan.

On paper, Spain should win this game. In reality, it's just about time for them to start sucking wind. Ireland may be well positioned to steal a game here, especially if they can score first. Either Spain will win 3-1 or lose 1-0. I'm going with the boys in green for this one.

Brazil v. Belgium Brazil's rocky road in qualifying kept them out of the limelight during the opening round, but now that they're here and Argentina, France, and Portugal aren't, they're the presumptive favorites. Especially playing a Belgian side which would have gotten knocked out if they were in any other group. Brazil wins comfortably, 4-1.

Japan v. Turkey Turkey goes through in their first Cup appearance since 1950. Japan makes it through for their first time. Turkey finished second to Brazil in their group, and played them very well. They've not looked anywhere near that good since.

Japan is playing well, but perhaps got an easy group (the one with Belgium, Russia, and Tunisia). Home crowd carries them through here, though. 2-1.

South Korea v. Italy South Korea looked impressive in every game they played. They have a huge, vocal following.

The Italians started slow, and needed help from Ecuador to get here. Outside of Christian Vieri, no one's looked that impressive.

So why am I picking the Italians? History. This is familiar ground for them. The Koreans, not so much. I see this in the same light as the US-Brazil match from 1994, an over-achieving host playing soccer royalty. I'm thinking this game goes to PKs, with Italy winning 4-3.

Oh, and happy trails to Scotty Bowman. I suppose nine Stanley Cups are enough.

Had the opportunity this past weekend to do something I'd not done in some time- go looking for sneakers.

Do you even call them sneakers anymore? Is there a term that's more hip? I'm sure Steve in marketing came up with some sort of hip-hop styled term that all the 12 year olds are using.

Anyway, my current pair of sneakers are about 5 years old, and in the condition to prove it. The various rubber bits that make up the sole are coming apart, there are holes along the seam where the sole meets the upper, and where the sole come up over the front of the shoe it's come loose, so I make this flapping sound most of the time.

This breakdown in footwear shouldn't be such a big deal, and for most folks it isn't. But when you wear size 15 shoes, the search takes on a new dimension. Usually, it's futility.

Go back to high school. I had to special order football cleats my senior year as the local stores had nothing. I will say that they were the best cleats I had in four years of playing. My sister, stumbling across a cache of oversized Avia high-tops (is Avia still around? Apparently, they are) buys the lot, including a pair of size SEVENTEEN that linger in my closet for years until we donate them to our church's clothing drive. I'm sure they're being used as matching baptismal fonts in some church in Benin.

Another trip led my mom to buy a pair of Converse that were adorning a life-size cutout of Larry Bird. It took her a few minutes to explain to the guy at the counter that she didn't just want a pair of those shoes, but that she wanted those shoes.

So I didn't have much hope for our trip to the Natick Mall, and I was rewarded by striking out at Foot Locker, Sears, and Champs. There were at least 2 other places I could have looked, but I was too dispirited. Especially by Foot Locker, who used to carry Reeboks in my size on a regular basis. Well, OK, they did have one pair of 15 sneakers, but they were (a) ugly, and (b) 80 bucks. I admit it: I have big feet and I'm cheap. Not the best combination for these purposes.

Plans were thus made to return to the scene of my last sneaker-buying experience: Filene's Basement. But instead of the mother store in Downtown Crossing, it was off to the Dedham location. I know the chain's had some financial issues, and may have struck upon a reason. The entry to the Dedham store may be the least enticing retail entryway I've ever been in. First off, half of the doors are locked tight. Then there's the lighting, which seems to be out. Leaving the lobby in a very drab gray half-light. Throw in some cinder block walls, the lack of any sort of eye-catching detail, and cleanliness most often associated with a Cuban jail, and it's no wonder people who love bargains are going somewhere else.

And for our trouble, going back on to the Providence Highway a week after a trip to buy cheap patio furniture (four white resin chairs and matching table, still awaiting our inaugural use), there were no sneakers in my size. You know the gods are against you when the Basement's offerings end pretty much at 13.

But in my last ditch search, what did I find? A pair of size 15 brown cap-toed oxfords. Forty bucks. O happy day!

I've never been really into the whole Star Wars thing. I didn't see the first trio of films all the way though until they were a couple of decades old. I'd seen them in bits here and there on TV and occasionally when someone rented one of them, but the re-releases a few years back were my first exposure to the films in an uninterrupted, unedited (well, nothing removed) format.

I'd made the argument once that I wasn't into the movies as the original came out when I was eight. The friend I was talking to, a fan of the series, retorted that he'd been in his third trimester when the original came out. Touche!

It may just be that I'm not much of a sci-fi person in general. I watch Star Trek but don't have the depth of knowledge that makes me a Trekkie. I've read the first book in the Lord of the Rings trilogy, but didn't care for it. I did, however, enjoy the movie. I don't read general sci-fi books, but do read a lot of alternative history, which is a sub-genre of sci-fi (as the folks who write it are, mostly, sci-fi folks).

I bring all this up as preface to mentioning that Sarah and I saw Attack of the Clones last weekend. Not being fluent in the first three films, and finding The Phantom Menace pre-teen twaddle, I perhaps didn't get as much out of the movie as I'd hoped. Samuel L. Jackson as Mace Windu was fun, and seeing Yoda swing a light saber was cool. Otherwise, eh.

I suppose my biggest problem was that we never really saw the intervening years between the two movies. Anakin has a bug up his ass about how Obi-Wan is "holding him back," but we never see how that developed. The Jedis are losing their ability to use the Force, but we really only know about that from Windu talking to Yoda. And for some reason, Anakin is now a grown man, while Senator Amidala looks pretty much the same. Then again, the lush beauty of Naboo would probably slow anyone's aging process.

There was a lot they needed to set up for the third film, and at times I thought Basil Exposition was making a cameo. But I don't think it was as bad as some critics said. But it wasn't the sort of movie that made me see what I was missing, either.

Getting back to things I more normally care about, the great World Cup betting experiment is over. I finished ahead by about $30. Picked Mexico to beat Ecaudor (originally even money, but the odds changed to -120, so I only got $50 on my $60). I also took the US-South Korea draw, doubling my $25. I would not have minded had Clint Mathis' goal stood up and I lost the bet that way, though.

Even so, the US seems poised to make the round of 16. Portugal spanked Poland to get back into the race, and also helped to demoralize the next American opponent. I watched about 5 minutes of the Portugal game, and I have to say they played in a rain of Biblical proportions, easily the heaviest rain I've ever seen a sporting event play in.

I didn't care for the way the US went into the bunker in the second half, and think that if they'd pressed just a little they could have avoided the Korean goal made inevitable by our passivity. As it stands I think the Koreans are going to have their hands full with the Portuguese, who really must win to keep going (they could tie and hope for a Polish upset victory, I suppose).

Tomorrow starts the last round of prelim games, with drama right off the bat. The French play Denmark to see if they can repeat. Things could get really interesting if France and Uruguay get one goal wins, as I think that would tie everyone up in points and goal differential. Not sure what the tiebreaker situation is, but see them going to drawing lots or monkey knife fight.

Today is the first of the Fridays I have off over the summer; Babson operates on a 4 day work week for June, July, and a bit of August. We work longer days during the week, and take slightly shorter lunches, but it's not a bad trade for a three day weekend. And how am I spending my first Friday off?

I'm in my office.

No, I'm not doing work or cleaning my desk (though it needs it badly), but rather am goofing off after coming back to campus and not wanting to tackle the hill yet (for reasons I'll expound upon presently).

Here's how my first day off's gone so far:

6:35 AM Alarm clock goes off. As usual, Sarah asks for another 15 minutes, so I reset the alarm. OK, it's not all Sarah where the extra time is concerned.

6:50 AM Alarm goes off again. We don't actually get up quite yet, but who really jumps right out of bed first thing?

7:10 AM Finally underway, Sarah getting ready for work, me getting ready to not work.

7:25 AM Tune into the England-Argentina match. As much ribbing as I give Sarah about being English, I actually like their side. My only real beef with English soccer is Manchester United, and that's only come from their being in league with the Yankees for cross-marketing and the like.

My rooting interest is further cemented by my general disdain for the Argentines, who are very good but leave me a little cold. I've also never been a fan of Maradona's, for all his brilliance, given his personal issues and ego. I can't say I dislike any of the current Argentine players, but I do marvel at how many of them have Italian or German sounding names (first or last).

For all the talk about David Beckham (Mr. Posh Spice) and his injury, it's Michael Owen, the teen sensation from France 1998 who is impressive. He sends a ball of the post early, tortures defenders all evening, and draws the foul that Beckham converts just before the half to give England the 1-0 lead they'd hold to take the win.

Argentina, for all the talk about them being the favorite to win, don't look that good. They do press very well in the second half, but send most of their shots well over the crossbar or wider than Scott Norwood's nighmares.

This being the "group of death," this win is momentous... for about a minute. Then you remember that Sweden topped Nigeria, eliminating the Super Eagles. Sweden and England both have 4 points, Argentina 3. Sweden plays Argentina in the last match, and have very little motivation to go beyond a tie- that gives them 5 points and a quarterfinal berth. Same goes for England against Nigeria, who would probably just like the point so they don't risk finishing last. A tie only gives Argentina 4 points and an early exit (barring a Nigerian upset of England and the tibreaks working out).

9:30 AM A solid block of goofing off. Some TV, some computer (currently playing a lot of Word Racer on Yahoo), the usual.

11:04 AM Shower. OK, it may not have been 11:04 AM exactly, but this isn't a deposition.

11:45 AM Arrange a taxi to go to my doctor's appointment. I'd tried this once before, only to have the cab not show. I make sure the dispatcher knows where I am and how to get here before hanging up.

12:00 PM Random lunch and an episode of The Twilight Zone- a guy's going to be executed at 9:30 AM, but it's pitch black out. Turns out that everywhere that hate flourishes (such as this little town), it's dark and getting darker. An OK episode.

12:45 PM Cab to the doctor's office. Nothing special, but if there's no rain I'm walking back. I kind of feel like a chump taking a cab for the mile and a quarter to the office.

1:10 PM Check in with the receptionist and start filling out forms. Not too many, thankfully.

2:35 PM Dr. David Wenzel introduces himself. Just as Sarah and I have been fishing for a church out here, I've been looking for a new primary care physician. I'd been using my respiratory doctor for that purpose since high school, and given my current location that didn't seem to make sense (not that it made much sense when I was in Boston, but I also had the house in Manchester to go to and from). Went to a doctor over at Harvard Vangaurd, but didn't care for the facility. A very typical HMO sort of experience.

That was not the case today, but given that I'd asked for a physical (my first real physical in some time) I figured that it'd be a process. And it was, with all the attendant poking, prodding, coughing, and what have you to go with it. Those of you who know the movie Fletch may be glad to note that at no point did I have cause to sing "Moon River."

Before any of this, though, the doctor asked me a litany of questions to get my background. Going through my family medical history was a real treat, as it reminded me just how much loss I've had up to this point.

Got some blood taken, and opposed to all the horror stories from people who get butchered and have a nice bruise on the inside of their elbow for a week, I barely even felt the needle. Heck, I don't even think I really needed the band-aid to cover the hole (well, there is a speck of blood). Also got an EKG, which took more time to set up than administer.

At this point, things seem OK with me other than weight, though the doctor was more concerned about activity.

I really like this doctor. Finally!

2:47 I'm out of the office, armed with samples of Singulair, a once-a-day tablet for asthma. We're going to see how this goes. I take one a day before bed. The doctor suggested going off of inhalers after about a week (but still have them around if needed), which is where the fun will begin.

Rain stopped, so I'm walking back. It's not a bad walk, pretty much straight line with only one real hill, and even that's not too big. You can tell I live in a town where people don't walk because every other house has a tree or shrubbery that's growing out into the sidewalk. I get to dodge any number of leaves, branches, and fronds on the walk, wondering if next time I should bring a saw.

There's a 4 way intersection right where the school begins, and as I cross, the car coming across the way doesn't wait for me, but rather drives around me. This pisses me off, as (a) being the pedestrian, I have the right of way, (b) in Massachusetts, it's state law that a driver must stop for a person in a crosswalk, and (c) it's just plain rude. Like the guy couldn't wait five seconds for me to get across his lane?

I've given some thought to getting a bike or a moped or some sort of locally useful conveyance, but probably won't. I dislike the idea that I could be riding down the streets here while some overworked financial analyst or soccer mom who's too busy talking to another soccer mom on a cell phone steers their two and a half tons of steel and chrome into my back.

3:12 PM I'm at the campus center, walk took about 20 minutes, putting me well in the normal 3-3.5 mph walking pace. Got a drink, grabbed the mail, and got into the office. Where I'm now figuratively talking to you nice people.

Not much else on tap for the day. Some dinner, probably rent a movie. At some point we have to make banana pudding for a dinner party, but that may wait for tomorrow.

In other news, my plan to get rich by betting on the World Cup has gone completely awry. Did Jon Couture's example teach me nothing? I had Denmark, Uruguay, and Paraguay to win. Got two ties and a loss for my trouble. Paraguay was a reach, based on Chilavert's return. Uruguay presented good odds. But Denmark only tying Senegal? That was my biggest bet, and it hurt.

Time to get back on the phone and check the damage.

When today's front page of Boston.com mentioned "big-toothed agents" in a story about the spate of spy movies on tap for the rest of the year, I would like to think they were getting a dig in at Ben "Dr. Teeth" Affleck. But I know that they were merely referencing Austin Power's outsized choppers.

Which is too bad. Affleck's got some genetically-altered, freak nuclear accident-fueled teeth.

Speaking of him, have you heard about his spat with some of the Red Sox players? When the Sox were in Toronto, Affleck made an appearance in the booth (being in Toronto to hype The Sum of All Fears and being, one would think, a Sox fan). I saw him in the booth with Sean McDonough and Jerry Remy; the IMDB blurb about this made it out to be a national crew, but I don't think Sox-Jays were on nationally at any point.

Anyway, Affleck starts making disparaging remarks about Lou Merloni, a utility infielder who has been on the Boston-Pawtucket bus a lot in his career. The remarks centered on things Merloni said (I think last year) about how getting sent up and down so much "made a mockery of his career" or something along those lines. Affleck seemed to think that Merloni's career wasn't of the level where it could be mocked.

Affleck apparently also threw some digs at Trot Nixon, the Sox' fairly solid right fielder, whose been in a slump since an illness a few weeks ago.

General clubhouse response focused on just the right thing: Affleck's "acting" ability. Kind of hard for someone whose resume includes Pearl Harbor, Reindeer Games, and all that other crap to talk about other people performing below average, isn't it?

All in all a tempest in a tea pot, but it was nice to see Nixon note that Matt Damon "made" Affleck. Pretty much true, too; without Damon, Affleck would probably still be scraping up roles from Kevin Smith (which isn't so bad in itself, I suppose).

That was unexpected.

For those of you who haven't heard, the US pulled off the second biggest upset of the World Cup so far by topping Portugal 3-2. If it weren't for those wiley Senegalese booting the French in the petard, the US would have the biggest upset.

Still, it's going to be the talk of the Cup for a while.

Portugal came into the Cup with a lot of pressure. Their older players are from what's touted as a "golden generation" that had a lot of success as juniors, winning a few world titles. In their grown-up years, they've been seen as underachieving, given the lack of Cup appearances and not winning the European title in 2000. This is probably the swan song for stars like Luis Figo and Rui Costa, their last chance to lead Portugal to a title.

But apparently that golden generation didn't include the defense, as they had a lot of trouble in the first half getting together. That was clearly a problem on the US first goal, but bad clears and dubious marking allowed the US the room and time to set up all their goals (one an own goal, a deflection off of a defender's head). If you haven't seen Brian McBride's game winner, find a tape or a clip on the Web.

The game may not have been as close as the final had Jeff Agoos, the American with the most international appearances without playing in the Cup, put in an own goal to cut the lead to one. I suppose after waiting so long, he wanted to get in the record one way or the other.

In opposition to Portugal, youth was served with the US team. Established stars like Cobi Jones and David Regis gave way to players like Landon Donovan and DeMarcus Beasley, a pair of 20 year olds who, for perhaps the first time in US team history, combine speed with the skill to be dangerous (Jones, who did play the second half, has skill but is more known for speed).

So this screws up Group D quite nicely. South Korea are your leaders, with three points for beating Poland and a +2 goal differential. The US is next, 3 points and a +1 (this is where Agoos' mistake may hurt us)., Portugal with no points and -1, and Poland nothing and -2.

We play the Koreans next, they with an extra day's rest. After watching them dominate Poland, I'm a lot more worried about this game than a week ago. That the stands will be packed with Korean partisans just adds to the concern. However, the US is clearly more fundamentally sound than Poland, who looked way out of synch in their opener.

Which may give Portugal their open door back into the group, if they can tag Poland with a big loss and the US and South Korea tie. Which would set them up for needing to beat the Koreans, which on most occasions would be a foregone conclusion.

But not this month.

In other Cup news, Russia topped Tunisia 2-0. Why is this significant? It represents a win on my first World Cup bet. Not that I got all that much for it; I cleared a little over $30 for putting up $50 on the Russians. I was going to put a throwaway bet on the US, who was 5 to 1. Of course, if I did that, they'd have gotten drilled.

The deed is done. We passed papers on the house yesterday.

My role in the process was by and large ceremonial. Not being on the deed, I had no need to sign anything, so instead I watched my brother and sister sign a few things. I felt bad for the father of the buyer (the buyer still being in Texas, his dad had power of attorney for this), as he must have signed about 50 documents while I was there. I hate to think how many he signed after we left; the stack of paperwork was at least three inches thick.

Watching this process makes me think living in rent-free college owned apartments isn't such a bad thing. It just gets to be a hassle if you want to come and go as you please, have friends over without worrying about security or parking, or get a dog. Or have kids, for that matter.

Anyway, after the legal stuff we had the celebrating. Much, much celebrating. Not much to give by way of details, but if you are in Salem, Massachusetts over the summer you should take a trip out to the Rockmore Drydock's floating bar (I think they call it a floating restaurant, but it's really a bar with food). A little pricey, but fun for a drink or two.

Along for the day was Bob, the owner of the restaurant where my sister works. I don't think he quite knew what he was getting into, but he didn't seem to mind.

I took the train in, so I got to check out a couple of possible wedding reception sites. One is the Peabody Essex Musuem, which I have a personal pull towards, as I went there a lot in fourth grade as part of an academically talented program (which they later changed all around and screwed up royally). Nice musuem, but they may not have a room of the right size for us. Our estimated size falls right between what all the rooms can handle.

The other place is Hamilton Hall, one of those random old civil buildings that seem to crop up from place to place in eastern Massachusetts. It may be too much building for us. It also has no parking.

So, all in all, quite the day out, the importance of which perhaps hasn't fully sunk in quite yet.

So the World Cup starts tomorrow. This would normally be a time of great rejoicing, but sadly I won't get to see any of the opening day action (live, at least), as I have to attend to the closing on our house.

I'll deal with the last item first. A while back, I noted that I wasn't feeling all that bad about selling the family home. That had continued up to yesterday, when I got an email from my future sister in law, asking how I was feeling about it. She mentioned that my sister, who hasn't lived in the house for a good dozen years at any rate, was feeling sad about it.

Which got me to think about it some more, and feel a little more melancholy about the whole thing. I've brightened up a bit since, thinking more about what I wrote before, and I think I'm back to being OK. That may change by this time tomorrow, after papers pass and money changes hands.

I know there are things I'll miss. I know that, when I am back in Manchester, and I go by the house, I'm going to think of it as still being ours, and will have quite the temptation to walk right in. But I'm also thinking about my mom, who was in a similar position when she was young. She spent a lot of time living in Manchester going by the house she lived in as a girl, and it didn't seem to cause any sort of sadness. Of course, she didn't always have the easiest time in that house (seems that her grandmother lived with them for a time, and she wasn't keen on my mom for whatever reason).

The difference for me is that I'm not living in the town anymore. That may change in the future, as Sarah has a strong interest in living there (even stronger than mine, which comes and goes), but for now I'm kind of dispossessed. That may not be as big a deal as it sounds, seeing that I got up to Manchester precious few times over the last year or so.

More on this as it happens, of course.

Looking at the World Cup, my biggest concern is that I may fall asleep at my desk a lot. Consider that most start times for opening round games are 2:30, 5, and 7:30. That's AM! The US-Portugal match is a 5 am start on a Wednesday. I do have to start being in the office earlier starting next week (4 day work weeks, which makes Friday viewing easier), but even so, that's early!

The US is in an interesting group. They face Portugal, South Korea, and Poland. Conventional wisdom says they have to go 1-1-1 to make the quarterfinals. That's probably true. Portugal is the clear class of the group, led by Luis Figo and Rui Costa. For a while they were a trendy pick to win it all, but some lackluster play leading up to the Cup cooled such talk. I can't see them losing in group play, but perhaps the US can fight them to a tie.

South Korea hasn't had much success in the World Cup, never winning a game. But they're playing at home, and have worked hard to improve. The US match is at Taegu, the largest stadium in use for the Cup in South Korea, with over 60,000 fans. You can guess how many Americans will be on hand. Weather may also be a factor, as I've read that there's a good chance for hot and humid weather. The US should be able to beat the Koreans, but there's a definite home field advantage to overcome.

Poland is the X factor in the group, having been absent from the World Cup for 16 years. This after being much in the swing of things, finishing third in 1974 and 1982. Their new success comes from replacing the old, Communist-era soccer heirarchy, and the emigration of Emmanuel Olisadebe from Nigeria to Poland. Not that he's their only player, but he's the straw that stirs the drink. In a perfect world the US would beat Korea and only need a tie here to move on. My fear is that Poland will also go 1-1-1, making goal differential come into play. My hope is that the Koreans will spend their nut to beat Poland in the first game, and fall flat in the second against the US.

Of course, if the US does finish second, they get to play the winner of group G in the quarters. That'll almost certainly be Italy. Uh oh.

We should have known something was up when, on Sunday, as Sarah and I left to wash comforters at a local laundromat (that fact alone tells you how our Memorial Day weekend went), we ran across somewhere between 6 and 10 minivans parked in a row in the parking lot that abuts our building.

Turns out there's a big soccer tournament in these parts. And people drive from all over (at least from parts of New York and Vermont, going off of licence plates) to play.

This actually turned around to bite us as we got lunch during the washing, as the local Friendly's was innundated with players, coaches, and parents, who swamped the apparently already understaffed restaurant. I'd originally hoped to dine at this establishment, but couldn't find it. Apparently, the one time I'd been to Needham wasn't enough for me to remember its location (and I didn't ask for directions not out of some wellspring of testosterone-induced machismo, but because I felt like an idiot).

There's an episode of King of the Hill where a bunch of kids switch over to soccer from football. It's an interesting episode, in that it points out two things that, perhaps not exclusive to youth soccer, seem to plague large children-based activities in general.

1. The "Everyone's A Winner!" mentality. One of the funnier things about the episode is seeing how the soccer coach rewards the team for doing very little. One would assume that, at the end of the year, every kid on the team would get some sort of trophy.

Should youth sports take on some sort of social Darwinist role to pigeon-hole seven year olds? No. But I've never quite figured out who we're fooling by making up awards for everyone. I know, we don't want to injure anyone's self-esteem, but I think kids see through this ruse more easily than adults realize.

If you're going to give out awards just to make some kids feel better, don't give out anything. Or just recognize participation and take everyone out for ice cream.

2. Soccer as social programming One of the subplots of the King of the Hill episode follows Peggy as she tries to fit in with the soccer moms and their sweater over the shoulder, latte sipping ways.

While eating, we were seated near a table with a soccer mom and her two kids. She spent about as much time on her phone as talking to her kids for the first 10 minutes they were there, which the kids didn't seem to think unusual. Then, as the wait staff was rushing around trying to get things under control, she says something along the lines of "they should have prepared knowing the tournament was going on."

Here's a thought: perhaps the world doesn't revolve around you and your ball-kicking spawn.

I know, I shouldn't take this one woman as an example of soccer mommery. I worked with a woman last year whose daughter played soccer, traveled to tournaments, the whole thing. Very nice people, not in any way like the woman I mentioned. I'm sure many of the soccer parents are decent folks.

But there's this odd undertone to youth soccer as one of the trappings of upper middle class standing. Get the kids in the SUV and drive them to the nice field, hurry! Sometime around 2016, someone's going to make a movie like The Ice Storm, but about a family that falls apart during some youth soccer tournament in 2005.

In most countries, soccer was the game of the people. In a typical US move, we've made it into another sport for the well to do.

I suppose my feelings about youth soccer stem in part from my own experience. I was part of my town's inaugural youth soccer program, in the wake of the NASL's prominence in the late 1970s and early 1980s. It wasn't very complex; show up on Saturday mornings, learn some skills, and scrimmage. Parents? The only ones there were those who were instructing. Heck, not having my folks around was probably a win-win for both of us. I got to play a game that I liked, and they didn't have to watch a sport they didn't get.

Just read on Yahoo! that part of the Valley is looking to secede from LA.

Yesterday also marked another flare-up in the gay pro athlete sweepstakes, with Mike Piazza the target this time.

What do these two things have in common?

A professional baseball player comes out while playing for a team in the Valley in The Dreyfus Affair, a book by Peter Lefcourt. The book does add an interesting twist to this problem, as the player in question not only comes out, but has a thing for a teammate.

I read the book a few years ago when I was reading a baseball book a week during the season. This was, what, 1995 or 1996, and I was trying to rekindle an interest in baseball that had waned badly. I was commuting at the time, and thus had a lot of idle moments on trains during which I mostly read. While I didn't keep to schedule (like the Red Sox, I lost steam in September), reading all these books did bring me back to baseball, apparently in time for another work stoppage (though it's back to the table soon enough).

Other titles from that summer that I recommend:

Fleet Walker's Divided Heart by David Zang. A bio of the last African-American major leaguer until Jackie Robinson, a number of reviews take Zang to task for not necessarily connecting to Walker. It could be that Zang got hung up on his "divided heart" theory. I'd still recommend it.

The Year They Called Off the World Series by Benton Stark. I read very few books that involved teams from New York (thus saving myself all of David Halberstam's claptrap). Couldn't avoid that here, as the very heart of 1904's conflict was the AL's New York Highlanders and John McGraw, manager of the NL's Giants.

Wrigleyville by Peter Golenbock. Golenbock has a series of books that use a lot of oral history to tell the story of a specific baseball team (the Red Sox, Mets, and Brookly Dodgers) or a city and its baseball (St. Louis). I'm a theoretical Cubs fan, given that they are the NL's Red Sox analog, and the depth of history in the book was well appreciated. Oddly enough, it was Golenbock's book on the Sox, Fenway, that derailed my reading experience. Not sure if I was just burnt out or found the style less refined in this earlier book, but it was a chore to get through.

I'll have to see if I can find my full list.

Staying on the news kick, there are now reports that this summer will see more shark attacks. I'm sure there's someone out there trying to figure out how al Qaeda is training the sharks to attack.

A couple of political type thoughts today.

First, the Cuban embargo. I understand that Cuba is a repressive regime, whose brutality may only be matched by its crushing poverty. So here's my question: why are they so much worse than the Chinese?

I know, we play ball with China because they're a huge country, a ranking regional power on the cusp of being a world power, and they have the largest untapped market in the world as far as flogging US products go. But China's not exactly known for its reasonable treatment of people who run afoul of the government.

I still see it as a double standard. If we care enough to embargo Cuba, we might as well throw China, North Korea, and whatever right wing repressive regimes are out there into the same pot. Or, perhaps more wisely, we shouldn't embargo anyone. Let the free market economy and our participatory democracy take care of business.

The other thing that's been rattling around in my head is the whole Bush knew about 9/11 before it happened thing. Actually, if we're looking at non-specific reports where someone tries to inflict massive injury on the US by flying a plane into a building, there is a 1994 document with this plan. In fact, you can even buy a paperback copy of it on Amazon.

The problem with non-specific information is that, as the name suggests, it's non-specific. The information is out there, but without the specifics that allow you to make informed decisions. Clearly there were steps that, if taken before 9/11, may have made the plan much riskier and lower its chances of success, but those steps probably would have had less to do with bin Laden than they would have with the generally crappy state of airport security.

But, of course, everyone loves a conspiracy (see Michael Moore's continued flogging of this rumor), so we'll see where this goes.

If nothing else, this brouhaha is probably responsible for the articles over the last day or so that announced that suicide bombers in the US and terrorist acquisition of nukes are inevitable. Of course, the latter information was available in a non-specific document first published in 1991, soon to be a major motion picture.

The weekend past saw its share of college/university commencements, save for some of the more pretentious institutions of higher ed that have speeches in Latin. I got to attend one, but not the one I've gone to in the past.

As part of my new familial standing, I got to see Sarah's sister graduate from the University of Maine at Farmington on Saturday. Actually, I didn't get to see much, as most of the people sitting in front of me had umbrellas up.

That's right: they graduated in the rain.

It wasn't the sort of torrential rain that marked the commencement at certain institutions that pay my salary, but it was steady. The story, as told by UMF's president (incidentally a BU Ph.D.), is that she talked to people on Saturday morning, who said the forecast called for things to clear by 10:30. As there aren't enough rental chairs in western Maine to set up both inside and outside, she made the call to stay outside.

Which wouldn't have been so bad, except that there was no tent, either. Just many, many chairs out in the rain.

Did I mention that the temperature was, at best, 42 degrees?

We at least had it better than the majority of grads, who did not have umbrellas. But we were all glad that Lisa was one of the first to get her diploma (actually an empty holder; the actual sheepskin comes in the mail), so we could beat feet and hang out in the student center waiting for the ceremony to end (sadly, Lisa didn't have that option, as she was on the podium as a class officer).

The rain did lead to some very short speeches, including that of the keynote, who may be America's best-selling gynocologist. She plugged her books, gave 10 things to think about (most well recieved the idea that at least one family member, probably a parent, is crazy), and sloshed back to her seat.

The ceremony was followed up by dinner at Wilton, Maine's finest restaurant and brewpub. It's also the place where I learned that, apparently, the traditional Ritz cracker stuffing for baked stuffed haddock includes lobster meat. I'd never had it that way, not realizing until today that my mother, also allergic to shellfish, couldn't have made the stuffing this way, much less eat it. I am very stupid sometimes.

But the beer was good, and the rolls excellent.

For the first time since 1990 (or 1989, if you include watching it on TV), I missed commencement at my alma mater. After reading the Globe article about it (which I won't link, given that it'll expire after a couple of days), and hearing from a couple of people who did see it, I wish I did see it. It appears that I can still catch the main ceremony via webcast, so perhaps I'll do that.

You can fault BU for many things, but the one thing they do get right every year is commencement.

Returning to sports Americans tend to care about, here's a good idea about one way to stick it to Bud Selig.

There are multiple levels of irony to this plan:

1. The All-Star Game is in Milwaukee; Selig owns the Brewers.

2. Miller Park, site of the game, is one of those corporate welfare tax-supported parks that owners extort from the locals. Neither Minnesota or Montreal have done this- and yet both are better teams than the Brewers.

3. Both Minnesota and Montreal have more all-star types on their roster than the Brewers (Twins have Torii Hunter, Corey Coskie, and perhaps Eddie Guardado; Monreal has Vladi Guererro, the lately-cold Michael Barrett, and the stone-gloved Jose Vidro; the Brewers have Richie Sexon and the streaky Jose Hernandez).

Continuing with yesterday's digression into international sports, time for soccer. Or, more accurately, my asking you to join a game I'm in for the World Cup.

At ESPN.com's Fantasy section, there is a link for a game called World Cup Challenge. I'm hoping to drum up interest from you, the lovely Blogalicious readership.

How do you play? Easy.

1. Go to the site linked above. If you've played other ESPN.com game, sign in. If not, please register.

2. Once you're logged in, click on the World Cup Challenge link.

3. You'll be taken through the steps to set up your entry. You'll need a name (though you can go with the default, which is usually "Last_Name Entry" (last_name being yours) first. Then, you'll be asked to choose the first and second place teams in each preliminary group.

This is not as hard as it sounds. Even if you only have a rough idea who is good and who isn't in soccer, you should be able to pick teams that at least make the playoffs. I think there are also odds on one of the pages.

4. You then pick the winners of all the games from quarterfinals on. This does get a little hard towards the end, when you have to compare the relative merits of top teams you may not know too much about. Do your best and guess where appropriate. It's what most people do, anyway.

5. Once your team is set, click on the link to create or join a group. Search then for the group "Mondial Madness." You'll need a password (corner) to join.

6. That's it!

So I hope to see you there. It'll be nice to play in a group with more than 3 people.

Not sure what I did, but it seems that sometime overnight I managed to hurt my shoulder. It's kind of sore, but every so often I move my arm and there's pain. Big pain.

Hope I don't need Tommy John surgery. Considering that's for the elbow, I probably won't. I'll just use whatever rehab plan Pedro came up with.

I've never been much of a fan of car racing, but I have slowly developed a taste for Formula 1 racing. I suppose it comes from seeing the Monaco Grand Prix every year as a kid, which fascinated me not only because of the surroundings, but because these guys were racing on city streets! Much cooler than the 500 miles of left-hand turns that Indy cars and NASCAR provide.

Thanks to the magic of 24 hour sports programming, every Formula 1 race is televised, often live (if you don't mind getting up early on a Sunday). From watching races the last few years, the F1 luster from my once a year watching is well worn.

This comes in part from the general predictability of the races. No one wins after starting in, say, 23rd place. The winner will likely come off of the first three rows, and will probably drive for one of three teams. The only way this changes is when, as in the opening race this year in Australia, there's a major crash.

But now, on top of the predictability, there's team collusion. This isn't the first time a driver's been ordered to throw a race, and there is a certain logic to it, but if you like competition, the idea that the winner should be the person who actually deserves it based on that day's performance, this result stinks to high heaven.

What stinks even more is that the driver who pulled over, Rubens Barrichello, just signed a 2 year extension with Ferarri, meaning that he'll be pulling over for Michael Schumacher for years to come. I've never cared for Schumacher, but I wonder if it's the team I should really hold accountable.

I got them all!

See how you do on this Mother's Day TV trivia quiz.

As close as I was to my mom, I was a terrible son where Mother's Day is concerned. Not that much was expected of me, especially when I was younger, but outside of contributing to the family present, I didn't do much. This was especially true when I was at BU, as the day always fell around finals. Usually, it'd be within 48 hours of Mother's Day (before or after) when something or someone would remind me. I think my mom understood my absent-minded professor mentality. It didn't help that I was usually approaching flat broke during those years, but a card on time would have been nice. It did happen, just not as often as it should have.

Now, Father's Day, I was pretty much on time all the time. Why? Because my mom would remind me. Which makes my forgetfulness even that much more shameful.

Bad, bad son. I'd feel really guitly about it if I didn't think my mom (were she here) would shake her head and mock me for making a big deal of it.

Considering that there may be a dozen (and that's being generous) signatures within the first 500 records (the rest marked as having been deleted as fake, probably due to a fraudulent email address), if it's not a joke it may be the least successful petition drive in history.

I'm having a hard time deciding if this is a joke or not. I'd like to think it is.

Over-Supportive Parent of the Week: Cameron Helder

"I really want you to know that Luke is not a dangerous person. I think he's just trying to make a statement about the way our government is run. I think Luke wants people to listen to his ideas, and not enough people are hearing him, and he thinks this may help."

I don't even know where to begin with this quote. But I have an idea.

1. Pipe bombs are dangerous. People who make and deploy pipe bombs in the mail boxes of unwitting individuals are dangerous by extension.

I know this guy is going through a difficult period, what with his son facing the possibility of life in the hoosegow and all, but if you were to read this quote without knowing the context, you'd think he'd hit W in the face with a cream pie or hooked a TiVo into Dick Cheney's pacemaker. Instead, we have a combination Unabomber and Charlie Starkweather. It would be nice if, on some level, this guy made some sort of ameliorative remarks towards the half-dozen people hurt in this spree. Perhaps he has, and if so that's a good thing.

Looking at the picture of Luke Helder, I'm surprised he can tie his shoes, never mind whip up pipe bombs. Then again, driving halfway across the country only fueled by Arby's and anti-federal rage probably takes a lot out of a body.

I'll be very interested to hear what his specific beefs are with the government. Part of me hopes that his sole gripe is related to the legalization of marijuana, as I think the idea of a stoner/mad bomber is priceless (with respect to those injured). I can see the movie now, starring that kid from the Dell ads.

Went up to Manchester on Sunday to start the clearing out process. Seems that the closing date for the sale was pushed up to the end of this month, rather than mid-June, to facilitate some repairs that will apparently coincide with the new owner building a combined garage and woodshop attached to the house.

The repairs, shall we say, are serious enough that it almost killed the sale. That my sister and I were not immediately reachable almost screwed things up, too, but luck willed out and we were able to reach a new agreement.

The biggest discovery on Sunday was what little in the house actually belonged to us. Outside of photos and Christmas decorations, just about everything in the house belongs to my aunt. Which I suppose makes sense, given that she's moved pretty much everything in her house into our house, but it wasn't what I originally expected. She is starting her move to my sister's house today (as I type, even), but has hired people to move her.

Which was one of the more annoying aspects of Sunday. We were all there ready to work, the three of us and our significant others, and we did very little. We could have packed boxes for my aunt, or moved things around to facilitate the moving process today, but no go. The other, larger issue here is that my aunt is moving to a much smaller space. I don't know where she thinks all of her stuff is going to go, but it won't all fit in my sister's house. And she already has storage space rented out for things from her original house that she's not touched in over a year!

Sadly, I think I share her tendencies. Moving from BU to Brighton to Babson required that I become much less attached to certain things. Part of this was the natural process of moving, winnowing out items of little use. But part of it was also the deadline I had to get out so the new person could move in, and that resulted in some wholesale dumping.

I do think there's a genetic characteristic to this, as my dad had a similar predeliction. He would bring thing back to the house, though. I remember one time he brought back an old counter stool from a diner, and the argument he had with my mother about it. She saw it as a waste of space, while he thought there was some value to it. Probably was, actually, had we tried to restore it or sell it. What actually happened is that the stool spent several years in the cellar before being discarded again, most likely for good.

Oddly enough, I felt very little nostalgia on Sunday. When I've talked about the house sale before, I've definately felt at odds with what we were doing. It doesn't help that Sarah and I (more her than me, which is surprising) are considering moving back to Manchester at some point, but aren't in a position to move into the house and work out the financial arrangements.

But on Sunday, as we pulled away with our smallish hoard of lights, balls, and pictures of me which are sure to be used for evil purposes, I didn't feel that sense of sadness that I expected. I think it's because it stopped being our house when my dad died. Some of the things that we recognized as belonging to our house were still there, but the people who made the house our house were gone.

Perhaps this is one of those "duh" moments where something that most people see as true has only made itself apparent to me recently, but that difference between house and home is key. I think I would feel worse if we were selling the house because my folks were moving, because it would seem disjointed. Trips home wouldn't be like going home. It'd be more like a very long stay in a rental. But now that what I've considered home is gone (I love my aunt, but seeing her was never the equal to going home in my mind), selling the house is a final, logical act. It's a capstone on that part of my life where home was at 99 Pleasant Street.

What comes next is the part of my life where I make someplace a home for my family.

A couple of sporting notes.

You may have noticed Seattle center fielder Mike Cameron had 4 home runs in a game this week against the Chicago White Sox. I had Cameron on my ESPN.com Baseball Challenge team- during his 2 for 25 slump. Turns out he had a sinus infection that made his eyes water. It's all about timing, and mine stinks.

Watched the Kentucky Derby on NBC, and something was missing. Namely, Dave Johnson's "and down the stretch the come!" call. I don't particularly follow horse racing, but Johnson's call would still got my blood racing. NBC should open their check book and get Johnson in the fold for future races.

Some folks, however, seem to disagree (last couple of paragraphs).

The folks over at TV Guide ran a list of their top 50 shows of all time in their last issue. Making lists like this only seem to serve two purposes: to sell magazines and ignite arguments. As we've been getting the mag for free for some reason (they seem to think Sarah renewed her subscription, which she didn't), we're beating the former. The latter purpose, of course, is why I bring this up at all.

Herewith are my problems with the list (with TV Guide rating in parentheses).

Slumming in the Penthouse

Seinfeld (1) - It may say something that a show ostensibly about nothing captured the cultural zeitgeist of the 1990s. I mean, really, what from that decade will we be pining for when the current decade ends?

I do like the show, could certainly see it as a top 10 show for its impact on culture at the time, but there's a faddish quality at work here. When was the last time you heard someone talk about man hands, close talkers, or sponge worthiness? Where dropping Seinfeld references was once expected, doing so now almost labels you as being stuck in the past.

And let's not forget the Seinfeld curse, dooming the former co-stars and even supporting characters (even Estelle Harris, who played George's mom, based on her appearance in a Glad Ware ad where she looks like a zombie clown). Jerry Stiller is a survivor if nothing else.

I Love Lucy (2) - This may be more of a personal preference thing, as I'm not a huge fan of the show. I'm well aware of its place in TV history, but there's a certain amount of repetitiveness that annoys me. Lucy's anguished wail is funny - once or twice. After that, it's like a cry for help. That about a third of the episodes seem to deal with Lucy's attempts to join Ricky at the club doesn't help, either.

But for its development of the sticom style, and for bringing pregnancy to TV (albeit without being able to actually say the word "pregnant"), I can see Lucy ranking highly. Now if William Frawley and Vivian Vance, who played Fred and Ethel Mertz, actually allowed their off-screen hate for each other to spill into the show, we could be talking number one or two.

The Sopranos (5) - More of a gut feeling that based on actual viewership, as I've only seen a half of an episode (for what it's worth, I did like it). Kind of a too much, too soon feeling, almost like it'd be unhip to not include it on the list. But I could very well be wrong.

Someone's Got Something on Rupert

I have no idea why these shows are on the list at all.

Today (17) - The foundation of infotainment, progenitor of shows from Dateline to Access Hollywood (both NBC productions to boot!).
thirtysomething (19) - Please push me in front of a bus if I'm ever as whiny and self-absorbed as the characters on this show.
Frasier (34) - It's not a bad show, but top 50 all-time? They overused the Niles-Daphne thing, and hooking up Frasier and Roz is pretty desperate. It was actually a better workplace comedy, a scary thought given the abuse that genre's taken.
The Oprah Winfrey Show (49) - Apparently, Oprah's repackaging as Earth mother for the 21st century worked. They don't seem to remember when Oprah was as shallow as all the other talk shows. I imagine they didn't want to piss off the soccer moms.

The Replacements

Right niche, wrong show.

Prime time medical drama: Ben Casey for ER (22) - ER got the nod for its frenetic pacing and supposed ability to transpose it with the downer lives of the ER staff. The show's tendency to throw plot arcs at viewers out of the blue (Mark Greene's a racist! Kerry Weaver's a lesbian!), not to mention the over-use of that pacing, aren't discussed. I'd opt in Ben Casey given its prime place in fostering the young turk partnered with old hand dramatic construct- one ER aped with Benton and Carter.

That, and Casey's opening: "Man. Woman. Birth. Death. Infinity." So cool.

1990s NBC cop show: Homicide: Life on the Street for Law & Order (23) - L&O is a good show, and probably deserving to be on the list. But if forced to choose one or the other, Homicide is a hands down winner. Better acting (I'll take Andre Braugher over anyone on L&O, though even the lamest assistant DA is better than Jon Seda), better writing (L&O is using "ripped from the headlines" as a crutch), and more interesting visuals (not even close).

PBS non-fiction: Nova for An American Family (32) - Nova makes science and related issues palatable for the masses, accessible without becoming pointless. Family seems like it was included for being a quality reality show, but given that it was made 25 years before the current crop, I'd say it was more of a quirky anamoly than anything else.

Detective playing against type: Magnum PI for The Rockford Files (39)- I actually really like Rockford, but like Magnum more. Rockford is more of the anti-hero, the man whose fight for justice often requires him to take a punch in the mouth or spend a night in jail. But Magnum is the more interesting character, thanks to the way they slowly revealed bits about his time in Vietnam. Magnum's got a better supporting cast, too. I'd take Higgins over anyone else on Rockford.

Living long and prospering: Star Trek for Star Trek: The Next Generation (46) - I like Picard better than Kirk. And the effects in the original were bad. But I have hard time thinking that Next Gen is the better Trek. The original dealt with topical issues in a less obvious way than Next Gen, and the tension between the crew and the various aliens was more palpable- even against the Borg, you never really feared for the new Enterprise crew.

The first couple seasons of Next Gen were pretty touch and go, story-wise. And there's that matter of Wesley Crusher, too.

Promotion

Shows that should be higher than actually listed.

Taxi (48), Rocky and His Friends (47), The Bob Newhart Show (44), The Fugitive (36), Your Show of Shows (30), The Twilight Zone (26), MASH (25), The Ed Sullivan Show (15), The Dick Van Dyke Show (13), The Simpsons (8).

Relegation

Shows that should be ranked at least 5 points lower.

The Mary Tyler Moore Show (11), The Carol Burnett Show (16), Friends (21), Donahue (29), Roseanne (35), The X Files (37), Gunsmoke (40).

I'd add Bewitched, but that would actually push it off the chart, it being in 50th place.

Remember These?

Shows that should be on the list but aren't... though I'm not sure who they'd replace.

The Odd Couple - The first show to really examine the aftermath of divorce. Just in a really funny way.
Get Smart - Maybe seen as too silly, but it's the sort of sitcom we still don't see today.
The Avengers - Certainly during the Diana Rigg years. And you shouldn't hold the lack of money against the Honor Blackmon episodes. Linda Thorson you can keep.
The Prisoner - I know, no one gets it, but people think they sound smart by bringing it up. But you'd be hard-pressed to name a series that approached the nature of freedom in such a unique way.
Monty Python's Flying Circus - Yes, let's get all of the British shows out of the way now. I'll even throw in Fawlty Towers. But I think the Circus was better, and still funnier than 90% of the current sitcoms.
Victory at Sea - US Navy propaganda aside, this early documentary series manages to make the sea battles of World War II tense- even though we already know what happens.

Like I said, such a list is pretty much meant to be argument fodder. Hope I've met TV Guide's expectations.

Every time I've gone to lunch over the last week or so, I've been hearing the same songs over and over. I think the dining hall's been on 98.5, and they've got some sort of noon countdown show, so between that and the constant repitition of the other dining hall fave, KISS-108, the fact that I keep hearing these songs is no surprise.

The problem is that one of the songs is always "Underneath Your Clothes" by Shakira. This could be the worst Top 40 song since, well, a good half dozen of the songs still on the Hot 100 (nominations include "All You Wanted" by Michelle Branch, "A New Day Has Come" by Celine Dion, and to show that I'm not just picking on the women, "Hero" By Enrique Iglesias, which is too whiny for my taste).

I have to admit to being a little mystified at Shakira's popularity. OK, I'm not completely mystified, as the same forces that gave us Britney, Christina, and the like, are at play here. She also manages to combine the powers of Jennifer Lopez and Charo as far as shaking her rump goes. Shakira is reasonably attractive, but no more so than the average flavor of the week pop star/WB actress/centerfold.

Her music, meanwhile, is also of the same forces of Britney, Christina, et. al., in that it only involves caterwalling into the microphone as much as possible, hitting notes be damned. It doesn't help Shakira that the lyrics to "Underneath Your Clothes" sound like they were written by a Hallmark writer on acid. To wit:

You're a song
Written by the hands of God
Don't get me wrong 'cuz
This might sound to you a bit odd
But you own the place
Where all my thoughts go hiding
And right under your clothes
Is where I find them


My understanding is that Shakira writes her own songs, and these verses would seem to confirm that.

I suppose it's only a matter of time before Shakira winds up playing a lascivious nun on a telenovela, but until that time I may just have to eat lunch at my desk.