halloween...doesn't feel like it to me.

A long Saturday, which involved getting up at the crack of noon, followed by three or four hours of studying while half paying attention to football on espn/2, and ABC, I decided to go work out. Four and a half miles on the tread mill, weights, the usual. The people I meet while working out are always cool; frankly, any more than four hours of literary criticism and I get a little crazy. Suddenly, and with out warning, I will be inclined to analyze every word that comes from any person’s mouth with a preternatural ferocity as if they are the physical embodiment of narrative. And as a matter of fact, if you ever listen to what people say, there is a tendency for all language to be in some way anti-woman, anti-minority, anti-male, anti-poor, anti-homosexual, anti-geographical, or other wise against a group or belief structure. Maybe the whole English language in action is truly deconstructionist…a whole nation of haters—but that’s neither here nor there.

After working out for two hours or so, I was back home, bent on staying home and doing the school thing despite the fact that it’s Halloween and Saturday night. Sure, I have no costume, nor did I attempt to create one, but still, many parties abound. I made it till around eleven, and then the fact that I couldn’t get hold of anyone forced me to go ahead and not go out. Duh-duh-na-na-nuh…I drink alone….yeah with no body else…I’m not going to the bar alone, not crashing any parties—I didn’t feel much like a party anyhow, just feel obligated to go out on a Saturday is all.

But really, there are some things in the sports world happening that reflect real life. Teddy Bruschi is doing something that resonates with me for some reason.

Teddy, who has had heart surgery to repair a hole in his heart, and a mild freakin’ stroke in the last year, has decided to return to the NFL. For some reason, I have trouble seeing this in the normal awe-inspired cloud of reverence that most sports-guys are looking at this through. I am a huge sports fan, in particular football, (duh) but still, a hole in the heart? A fucking stroke? It’s just a game. And yes, he has been defined by this “game” for maybe his entire adult life, that’s not an easy thing to walk away from. But what about the rest of his life? I remember dad saying something about a study of O-linemen where they were able to find that when the ball is snapped their hearts skip a beat—stress comes in all forms, and the kind that most of us are used to is the kind that wears us down over many years. Causing lesser men to lose their hair, which may greatly improve their looks, but still shows us why men die before women. But in the case of these guys, the stress is instant, and exponential. So, why would you, after being a world class athlete, put yourself back into the lifestyle that nearly killed you

Hang on, there’s someone at the door………………………..*



[Editor’s Note]
At this point, Dom has decided to go out with his work friends Adrian and John. He left this blog in limbo until around three in the morning and was quickly aware that his fingers would not allow him to continue. After a long walk home from the party, and a long talk on the phone with Dan’o, he called it a night. We now rejoin his blog which is already in progress.


…………I think the point was something to the effect of how we as a people arbitrarily decide what is acceptable to die for. I guess it just seems to me that all this admiration for Bruschi is a bit misled. It’s all: “can Bruschi’s return help the Pat’s win another Super Bowl?” but no one wants to talk about what happens if the hole in his heart suddenly reopens, or he has another stroke, on the field. What if he dies on the field in front of millions of people? Undoubtedly, he would be considered a hero. But how that makes any one a hero is beyond me. I hope he does okay.



I hope y’all are doing okay too.