Sorry for the lack of action around here lately. I spent a good portion of last week in South Florida and was away from the blog. There's nothing like going 1,400 miles south to pick up a 20 degree gain in temperature - but I did squeeze a round of golf in last Friday. It beat working.
Anyway, it's time to get this blog moving again. I know your life has been incomplete without my bad SU recaps, dopey videos and the intellectually bankrupt ideas that are spewed here daily - so let's get back at it.
Former SU head coach Paul Pasqualoni was surprisingly fired as the Miami Dolphins defensive coordinator today. An odd thing happened to me and many others I've spoken to after Pasqualoni was fired at Syracuse - we started rooting for the man. While I still feel like his time at Syracuse was up -- even if the firing itself was clumsy and his replacement was a disaster --as soon as he was gone, I was genuinely happy he found success in the NFL. While I didn't follow the Dolphins at all this season, the firing to me was a bit of a surprise. Something tells me that after a lifetime in coaching and establishing a reputation as a high-character guy, he'll get another gig soon.
Conversely, I wish Greg Robinson would get caught fleeing a Walmart robbery on a scooter and getting locked up forever. That guy shouldn't be allowed within 50 yards of a football field. I will root for Kim Jong-il before I'd ever root for any team that no talent ass-clown is associated with. You'd have to be nuts to give him any responsibility after he single-handedly ruined the Syracuse football program.
Back to the Dolphins for a second, I have a mildly interesting story about a player Pasqualoni coached this year. Joey Porter and I were on the same flight yesterday. While this fact itself isn't very interesting, after all pro athletes have to move around the country too, what I did find a bit odd was that we were both flying Southwest.
Now, if for some crazy reason if you don't know much about Southwest Airlines, let me fill you in. It's a discount carrier. It has open seating. There's no first class. There's no assigned seats. You get on the plane in the order you check in. In other words, it's the place you'd see me, not an athlete with a $32 million deal.
Joey must not have known you can check in 24 hours early on the web, because he had to wait for almost everyone else to board the plane before getting on. Let's just say you never want C level boarding because I'm pretty sure he got stuck in a middle seat. He was farther up in the plane than I was, but it must have seemed weird for the two average schmucks who were sitting on either side of him to be seated next to a guy wearing diamond earrings the size of bowling balls. But hey who knows, maybe Joey's just being smart with his cash. I was going to take a picture of him, but I thought that would be rude, plus I didn't want him to snap me in half. Up close and personal Joey Porter is a large man. He did sign an autograph for the pilot.
Finally, I hit a Primanti Brothers on Saturday - that is one damn fine sandwich. This place is definitely the best thing to come out of Pittsburgh (and I fully recognize this isn't saying much). If it's impossible for you to get to one, just put french fries on everything you eat and you'll see what I'm getting at.