ball of lightning [dot] com

[10:35 PM] Dan: also i’d probably just sue him
[10:36 PM] Colin: for what?
[10:36 PM] Dan: gayness
[10:36 PM] Dan: whatever it doesn’t matter i’d win

Reading the boards, which point me to Keith Law’s blog, which point’s me to this nugget from Twins’ beat writer Bob Sansevere.

If I’m the Twins’ general manager, here’s what I do. (And I’d do it under duress because I’d be working for a cheapskate owner.) I get on the horn with Boston Red Sox general manager Theo Epstein and say, “You want Johan Santana, right?”

Epstein likely will say, “Right.”

Then I say, “Tell you what. I’ll trade you Santana and Carlos Silva and Joe Nathan.”

Then I wait for Epstein to pick the phone up off the floor, and I say, “I don’t really want to part with Santana or Nathan, but my owner is a cheapskate and won’t pay what it will take to sign them long term. So, you give me center fielder Jacoby Ellsbury, second baseman Dustin Pedroia, closer Jonathan Papelbon, starters Jon Lester and Clay Buchholz, and we’ve got a deal.”

Presumably, Epstein will balk at giving up all that, so I’d tell him I need to get off the phone so I can call the Yankees. He’d come around because getting Santana and Nathan, particularly Santana, pretty much would ensure the Red Sox of several more trips to the World Series. And with that offense backing him up, Silva would help, too.

That’s right, he proposes the Sox send Ellsbury, Pedroia, Papelbon, Lester, and Buchholz for Santana, Nathan, and Silva.

Just give me a second.

OK.

…

…

Alright.

I have 72,042 cons and 1 pro.

Pro: The average height of the team (without Pedroia) would increase by .12″. As for the cons, while 68,342 have to do with how someone this retarded can land a job where his actual influence is more than that of that half drank bottle of riesling I tossed into Cayuga Lake last week (and seven have to do with the fact that Jessica Alba isn’t coming the other way in the deal), one does kinda stand out amongst the rest.

Con #65,053: Oh, Carlos Silva isn’t– er– on the Twins.

But, hey, what do I know about trading guys who recently filed for free agency. Maybe they’ll toss in Torii Hunter for Youkilis or something. Imagine the payroll savings when it comes to trading for guys without contracts…

So I’m still working on those grad school applications. The last hurdle(s) between me and application submission are personal statement and application fee. I think I’ve finally narrowed it down to six (possibly seven) schools. Stanford, Illinois-Urbana, MIT, Carnegie Mellon, Penn State, Florida State, (UConn?). Stanford, UI, and CMU are all Civil and Environmental Engineering (CEE) programs with me doing a concentration in atmospheric modeling, air quality engineering, or atmosphere/energy relationships. MIT, Penn State, and Florida State are the hurricane research (forecasting, etc.) ones. Ideally, I think I’d like to go to Stanford– I feel researching the relationship between the atmosphere and energy (both renewable energy and air quality engineering with things such as coal plants) seems like a noble, fitting, and cost-effective (i.e. it pays more than a janitor’s salary) field. But this time, I’m pretty much going with the fellowships. If that’s Penn State, it’s Penn State– if it’s *gulp* UConn– it’s UConn.

The personal statement is being a bitch, since I don’t really know EXACTLY what I want to study since I haven’t been in the CEE field that long (my hurricanes one should be easier). So rather than do it, I looked up my old applications from undergrad– my essays, my notes, my correspondence, etc.

When I came to Cornell, I picked it because it was a top 3 astronomy program in the country. I also like thumping my chest about being in the Ivy League. Secondary gratification though, I promise. But then I struggled, and switched majors. Suddenly I became a working machine, understood material, performed well, landed a research gig, recieved awards, etc. Which is awesome, and I’m amazed that just five years ago, I was dicking around by pouring sodium nitrate on lab books in AP Chem, four years ago, I “slacked” my way to 5’s in AP Physics and Calculus, and three years ago I was busy getting C’s in engineering math and physics classes and justifying them by saying “hey, the mean at Cornell is B- in those classes.” (For the record, it still is a legit justification, according to my friends who still wade through ChemE, MechE, EE, CS, etc.).

But now I’m at a crossroads. Sure, I’d love to keep taking coursework in meteorology and get an advanced degree. But research is just not something I can do the rest of my life. So now we have to look at what happens when I apply it. Sure the National Hurricane Center might hire a guy with a PhD in hurricane research, but couldn’t I just do that working my way up with a B.S. For that matter, could I even get my foot in the door? What’s an M.S. going to get me? Bump me up a level in a forecasting job in Montana?

So we look at air quality engineering. Ooohhh, engineering. Must be worth like $80,000 right outta school, right? Environmental engineers only garner an average salary of about ~$70,000/year in the United States. Average– not starting salary. So I’m looking at $40-45,000 in a few years even with an M.S. All my other engineer friends are starting higher than my average. Uncool. Now this is for your average EE, so I’m assuming (hoping) that an EE from Illinois (#2 CEE school in the country, behind Berkeley) is more attractive than an EE from Western North Dakota State University at (insert city of 5,000 farmers here). Then again, that also assumes one of these programs will TAKE me, even though I’m likely lagging behind in some of their core prereqs.

I’m going to be about $100,000 in debt when I leave Cornell University. Unclutch. I had a free ride at BU, and essentially the same at RPI. I could have been paid to go to UConn for crying out loud, and now I’m looking at it as a graduate school?

Did I make a $100,000 mistake? Or is the Cornell connection going to be worth it, like I’ve kept blindly hoping for these last four years. Because if I end up going Cornell-FSU for my PhD, am I out a tenth of a million dollars because I was a dumb, cocky, high school senior?

[12:20 AM] Colin: you need another all in
[12:20 AM] Colin: THIS HAND
[12:20 AM] Colin: just PUSH
(Jesse smooth calls blind)
[12:20 AM] Colin: THATS NOT JUST PUSH
[12:20 AM] Jesse: well i have 6s
[12:20 AM] Jesse: i dont need to push 30x the bl ind
[12:20 AM] Colin: OH MY BAD
[12:20 AM] Colin: YOU SHOULD HAVE REBOUGHT FOR 100000$
[12:20 AM] Colin: AND THEN PUSHED
(Jesse flops set of 6’s)
[12:20 AM] Colin: WHAT DID I TELL YOU

[12:30 AM] Colin: gods saying you win this hand
[12:30 AM] Colin: thats whY THE CAPS CAME ON
[12:34 AM] Jesse: now we have A5 of spades
[12:34 AM] Colin: this hand you might wanna see a flop with
[12:34 AM] Colin: see
[12:34 AM] Colin: wait
(Guy bets 10x big blind)
[12:34 AM] Jesse: oh sweet jesus
[12:34 AM] Colin: …
[12:34 AM] Colin: …
[12:34 AM] Colin: …
[12:34 AM] Colin: no caps
[12:34 AM] Jesse: thats a little excessive
(Still preflop, there’s a reraise in front of him)
[12:34 AM] Colin: muck it
[12:34 AM] Colin: he’s got the bitches
[12:34 AM] Colin: HES GOT THE BITCHES
[12:34 AM] Colin: ok ok god
[12:35 AM] Colin: i heard you the first time

I swear, if WordUpThome wasn’t fiction, I’d be on the Chicago White Sox right now…

The part in Phil Collins’ “In The Air Tonight” where he sings “it’s no stranger to you and me” and then the drums go “BUH DUH DUH-DUH DUH-DUH DUH-DUH DUH-DUH DUH” is easily my favorite air drum moment in rock history.

This isn’t good. The one thing I’m good at. The one thing most people here know me for. The one thing that I’m always introduced as (”Hey, this is my roommate, the bowler!”) and I’m getting… bored of it?

Four times a week I show up at Newman and run through the motions. I don’t even care about my scores, I don’t care about striking or even making sure I don’t whiff on that 4-pin. But what’s worse, is I don’t think I care about getting better. I show up with this enthusiasm for correcting a flaw, but then I allow myself to lapse back into sucktitude. I go to team tournaments and try to keep everyone rallied, but we continue to be plagued by the inevitable collapse (and while I’m about ~+10 average differential per game for the season so far, I’m also not blameless in the pathetic finishes either). But with the corresponding poor team scores, the emotion drains, the adrenaline wanes, and I lose that edge. I need to feed off something.

Maybe I need to do more singles tournaments. Something where I’m actually dropping dough– where I have to actually care about where and how I throw the ball. Where I can call it a success if I squeak into the cash. Yeah, I’m definitely not fucking good enough to go out and win the U.S. Open. But I’d rather drop $500 at least knowing I’m up against the best, then continuing to waste away $15 a week in an eight team league where all I care about is “who has the next round of beers?” and “how am I going to get that problem set done by midnight?” After all, the only thing that’s kept me from going insane this year is that I keep scoring reasonably on shots that actually require shotmaking. I’ll find that up a notch, not down in the basement of a gymnasium in Ithaca or in a half-fitness center/half-watered down bowling alley in Torrington. But then I need money. And time. Both which can be pretty hard to come by (unless you suck dick for coke).

You know when I go to tournament practice and have more fun throwing two fingered on the wall instead of actually working on my game (or helping other people work on theirs) that I’ve lost a bit of that desire. I’m only (only?) 21. I can’t lose it now, can I?

Rotoworld sources are relaying that Detroit radio station 1270 AM reported Wednesday that the Lakers and Pistons had a “done deal” as of 6:45 PM on Tuesday that would have sent Richard Hamilton, Tayshaun Prince, Amir Johnson and a first-round pick to the Lakers for Kobe Bryant.
Both teams had reportedly agreed to the deal, but Bryant alledgedly vetoed it with his no-trade clause, apparently not wanting to go to a depleted Detroit team. It will be interesting to see how the Pistons’ players mentioned in the deal react to this news.

So Kobe is going to continue to whine about getting moved out of LA and continue to take shots at the team, players, coaches, and execs, but he is willing to veto trades so he can hand-pick the next team he can be the cancer on.

What a little bitch.

Today’s blast from the past: Mastergrip. As told by our favorite formerly-mulleted (in 2002) friend.

It was sometime around 8:30 I believe. Myself, Colin, and Brandon were bowling on lanes 31 and 32 when Mike Morrison aka gnome came over to where we were bowling as he was on lane 30 at the time. He picked up my container of Mastergrip. Now, Mastergrip is used to prevent your hands from sweating while you bowl, it’s basically an alternate to rosin. So anyway, Morrison asks what it is and basically became fascinated by it and started to shake it around excessively. The cap was off and well some of the Mastergrip wound up falling onto Brandon’s scoresheet. A white, sticky substance is on the scoresheet. It then is absorbed into the sheet so it’s clear. Now at this time, we are all basically falling over on the ground laughing at him, responding with such remarks as “Morrison, take that into the bathroom” or “Morrison, she’s not that hot” or even “Morrison, where’s the fire?.” This went on for about 20 minutes and he became enraged, turned red, and kept screaming at us to shut up and then he got all of his stuff together and left. Yes, this may not seem as funny to read about, but if you were there, you would understand why we are calling this “The Moment of The Century.”

Also, a little later on after this very hilarious moment with Morrison and the Mastergrip there, I called Amie and talked with her for about an hour. I was just walking around outside and Colin and Brandon didn’t know where I was. So they went and called me on the payphone like morons. Eventually, I got off the phone with Amie so Colin could call his Dad. After that, Colin and Brandon went over to a payphone and attempted to call Amie via 1-800-CALL-ATT, but I managed to call her first so that didn’t happen. There’s nothing else to say about any of this. After that, we all left, except for Brandon who stayed a little longer and eventually found a ride home. Oh well that’s the end of that story.

Whatever happened to the gnome (other than he’s a straight up fucking pimp now), or that bottle of Mastergrip? For that matter, whatever happened to Amie?