March to the Sea

And you thought Jordan's return was big news.

There are some athletes that take a free agent contract and, despite high hopes and expectations, things just don't work out as planned. Kenny Rogers just didn't work out in New York. He returned home. Jeremiah Trotter just didn't fit in like he thought he would in Washington. But in Philadelphia, he was, and is, an All-Pro.

You know, when I signed up to be one of the Seven Deadly Cynics, it seemed like a pretty sweet deal. Front-loaded contract...sizable signing bonus...promises of playing in the limelight in front of a passionate audience...

But alas, things don't always happen as you plan.

At first, I enjoyed the new scenary. We were a team. We helped each other out and soared to a winning record. Sports Illustrated put us on the cover page.

But then, the curse set in. I soon found myself carrying the team rather than being merely a piece to a championship puzzle. Yeah, I was still bringing it, night in and night out, dazzling the crowd with show-stopping dunks and fucking my bitches on the side. I was pumping out illegit kids and refusing kids' autographs to go find my sports cars. I was doing what I was being paid to do, but my teammates couldn't hang. OK, I had a little help--a point guard from Baltimore had a good season and was among the league leaders in assists and a forward from Tennessee had some strong outings, as I expected would be the case.

But some guys signed some big contracts and quickly got fat and lazy. I thought I had a teammate from Michigan who would bring the funk every night. I expected huge seasons from the Indian and Irishman. I mean--just look at their past statistics! What the hell happened? And worst of all--my boy from Arlington. We grew up together. He talked me into taking the contract so that we could play together. It seemed like an incredible opportunity.

Instead, everything fell flat. They all signed their contracts and stopped playing hard. The crowd stopped coming to see us perform. There was constant unrest among players. We started fighting in practice. And the losses poured in.

So, I've re-upped with my former team, hoping to bring back some of the shine that once glistened off this page. Some say this blog will never be the same. Some say a comeback is pointless, that the luster is gone for good. I know I'm going to have to work extra hard (110 percent) to win back fan support and the four readers who once checked this blog once or twice every three weeks. But damnit, you only live once. I still feel the love. I'm not ready to hang them up. And, maybe, one day, I'll even return to the team that left me for naught, that disappointed my visions and dreams.

After all, you never know. That's why they play the game.