eeka and I are trying to set the American viewing record for "Bend It Like Beckham." We've each seen it twice so far. It's unbearably cheesy and the gender and cultural aspects are overly stereotypical even for film, but we love it! And I also have two pictures of Becks on a slanted part of my wall, much like the main character of the movie. I have more individual athletes up, but a bunch o' pictures just the same. Happy Belated Birthday, Becks! I remember quarterly (February/May/August/November) birthdays, so why didn't I remember his, exactly three months after mine?

Also, at the rate I keep taking potshots (pun totally intended) at J.J. Redick, I'll have a crush on him by the end of the month. I, err, love to hate those Dookies. And that's too bad, cuz while he's almost a foot taller than me, he's also three years younger than my little sister. Since he's 19 and I'm 25, that's not just robbing the cradle, that's committing a felony while doing so. I suppose, though, in five years, after he has graduated and/or joined the pros, I could theoretically be on him like white on rice. (diploma + pro career as shooting guard: kickass.) After one has become financially solvent or reached a certain age, it's all fair game. I love me some almost-34-year-olds.

MK, Barbara Bush can score a baseball game. Score one for the ladies, not to be repetitive. Sometimes I find that's the only way I can manage to pay unflagging attention to a baseball game. And you really have to pay attention to a baseball game to get your money's worth. During the Big East final (basketball, of course) this year (and I've only paid for three basketball games ever; this wasn't one of 'em), I actually stopped caring with about 12 minutes left in the second half. I didn't even get angry or sad when my team lost. And Dave Winfield's retro Padres jersey is fugly.

P.S. The NBA still sucks my left nut.

P.P.S. I can't wait until pollen dies down and I can wear contact lenses again.