Humans are interesting. The things we do, the things we say, the things we choose. The things we don’t do, the things we keep quiet about, the things we choose not to do. The human mind fascinates me. With so many aspects in my life, I try to understand the reasoning behind things. This often leads to over-thinking things far too much. This is a positive as well as a negative, depending on the occasion and instance.
I wonder to what extent other people think as much as I do. The reason why I don’t sleep as well as I should is because I think too much. I have no issues going to sleep, but I wake up thinking about all the things I want to do the next day, and then I go back to sleep. Then I wake, and think some more. It is not a case of worrying about things. I do not worry about much, and if I do, then I am intent on doing something about it. But I think about what challenges and ideas I have, and how I can get wheels in motion. It goes back to when I was a child and I had very random sleeping experiences where I would sit up and talk in my sleep. It was usually a discussion around how a piece of Lego may or may not fit in my bedroom. We all have random quirks, and sleep is one of mine.
I wonder what makes me like Boxing and UFC. There is nothing in my childhood that explains why I enjoy seeing blokes in tight shorts beat each other up. I love watching it, it fascinates me, but at the same time, it does make me grimace on occasion. Some may find that strange, and I can accept that. I attended a UFC event in December with three good chaps who had never been to one previously. It was all going swimmingly well, with entertaining fights, but nothing too brutal, until one fighter’s arm snapped. Possibly not some people’s cup of tea I suspect. Some people take enjoyment from other people’s misfortunes or problems; I enjoy watching UFC and Boxing.
Watching is one thing but why do people actually become UFC fighters? What makes somebody decide to become a UFC fighter? There was an interesting dispute recently between ESPN and the UFC. ESPN were questioning the UFC and how they pay their fighters. Did you ever wonder how much a guy gets to fight in the UFC? They release the basic payments per fight with some of the top guys getting $250k per fight, and others getting as little as $4k-6k per fight. ESPN’s argument was somewhat flawed, but still, it does not hide from the fact that some guys will struggle to make $20k per year fighting. On the flipside, if you win or entertain fans, you get paid a fair bit more. I love watching it, but I find it hard to understand how some of them can fight for so little money. Though they probably cannot understand why I do what I do.
I read an interesting article today about boxing and how the sport desperately needs the star fighters to fight more often – currently Pacquiao fights twice a year and Mayweather once per year. My take on it is that the fighters themselves have a greater awareness of the risks involved and they too probably think long and hard about themselves and their careers. Easy advice to offer telling them to fight more, but the issue with those guys is that they get paid so much, they do not need to. Sadly, the guy making $4k per fight, has not option. Even tougher when they are probably equally aware of the dangers of their profession, but need to earn a living.
At what point do we decide to stop thinking? I am not sure. I can do it most of the time, but certainly there are things which linger in my mind. Working from home, I have a lot of time to think about things. If I overthink everything little thing, particularly the negatives, I would lead a pretty sad and miserable life. Thankfully I can often move on after the occasional sulk and slot them in the mind’s filing cabinet.
Last night I watched The Blind Side. It has to rate as one of my favourite sporting movies and definitely one of those feel good movies that I thoroughly enjoyed. I only realised at the very end of the movie that I was sat watching the very same Michael Oher a week ago when my Patriots were beating the Ravens. I had no idea about his story. I guess we all have stories. Some are more interesting than others, but we all have them and I enjoy hearing, listening, watching and reading about them. You can bet your life that the UFC fighters and Boxers that I watch have plenty of interesting stories too.
I like to think that I put a lot of time and effort into my relationships with friends and family, but sometimes I tell myself I should put more into certain relationships. Other times, I do not always feel like it is completely appreciated or returned. Watching that movie, it just reminded me that you can get so much pleasure and satisfaction out of what you put into other people….it is not always what you get back from them. And if you do not get anything back, they do not have that feeling of contributing to other lives. Their loss. A case of sticking to your beliefs and try doing the right thing regardless of what others do or think.
If you haven’t seen it, watch The Blind Side. Cheesy as this blog, but a great movie.
Sunday, January 29, 2012
Friday, January 13, 2012
Sporting Roots
Anybody who vaguely knows me, knows that I am particularly passionate about sport. Since I was knee-high to a grasshopper, I have been a staunch Everton fan and most folks who cross my path are aware of this. Whether you went to school with me and no doubt abused me frequently, somebody I worked with and no doubt abused me, or you’re a family member or friend and have no doubt abused me, you’ll know who my team is and you will know how passionate I am about them despite all the abuse and poor performances. Randomly, two people recently called me a glory supporter – not many Evertonians can be accused of that, but it is true. I started supporting them in the mid-eighties when they were at the peak of European football. It’s been downhill ever since.
Among my first memories was Diego Maradona in 1986 and I was instantly fixated with him and the game. The truth is that it was always inevitable that I would work in sport, study sport, love watching sport, read about sport, live sport. From as early as I can remember, sport was on our television. It could have been tennis, it could have been NFL, you name it, we watched it. It was the same 25 years ago, and it is just as prevalent now if you show up at my parents’ house. Dad worked evenings and weekends, so we spent a lot of time growing up under the auspices of my mum – thankfully for Junior Bobby, Kath loved watching sports and it all grew from there.
As an eight-year-old, I can vividly recall getting a book for my birthday on the rules of NFL, which I recited and learned as I watched the game. Watching was not always possible – bed times as a child can be terribly restrictive especially when you’ve never been a great sleeper and I would listen to the radio coverage of the NFL quietly in my room – half listening to the radio and half listening for the creeks of the staircase. Of course, that was assuming my sister didn’t grass me up.
Dad has always enjoyed watching sports but for a slightly different reason. If he has a bet on a snail race and it is televised, he’ll be flicking the channels trying to find coverage. That is no doubt why I always had an attraction to data and betting, even if I fell into my role with Smartodds.
When HJ lived in Calgary and I spent a lot of time over there, I heard about this new device which allowed you to watch television over the internet if you had it connected to a cable/sky box and the internet. The Slingbox was to become a lifesaver on my travels. I picked one up in Calgary, took it back to the UK and connected it to mum and dad’s television. I had hit the jackpot. The issue with the Canadian box in the UK was that one feature did not work – the remote control – so for a good few years, if I wanted to watch something, I would call or text my folks asking them to change channel. They bought me a UK one last year and I can now change it myself – I can only apologise to them and my niece and nephew who are frequently disturbed by Scooby Doo being interrupted by Uncle Rob who wants to watch a random cricket game even though I am a ninety minute flight away. No wonder kids believe in magic.
I love my parents for many reasons and in many ways, but their love of sport and how it rubbed off on to me, along with a number of other characteristics goes a long way to explaining me. A good friend of ours often reminds me of how he watched the Stanley Cup Final with my mum from a hotel in Cologne as I drifted asleep for a period and Mum, watching at home, and him watching on my laptop via the slingbox, stayed the course at 4am. How many parents stay up til 4am to watch a Hockey match? HJ is in Innsbruck this week and I have stayed up til 3.30-4am every night watching Hockey or NFL. So if you wonder why I may be a little abnormal in doing so, look no further than my Mum.
It is funny how those kind of Stanley Cup moments stay with you and always will. In the last few years, I’ve attended a considerable number of sporting events, and I have tried wherever possible to take my parents to them. Christmas and Birthday presents are never easy these days – it’s fair to say that the culture nowadays is that we buy something if we need it. Given that they are sport fans, I like to give them ‘moments’ and ‘memories’ as gifts. Maybe it is an excuse for me to go also, I won’t lie! But more than anything, it’s my way of thanking them for instilling my passion for sport. I’m banking on neither of them reading this blog, but I’m looking forward to the next one I have lined up if I can somehow pull it off.
Among my first memories was Diego Maradona in 1986 and I was instantly fixated with him and the game. The truth is that it was always inevitable that I would work in sport, study sport, love watching sport, read about sport, live sport. From as early as I can remember, sport was on our television. It could have been tennis, it could have been NFL, you name it, we watched it. It was the same 25 years ago, and it is just as prevalent now if you show up at my parents’ house. Dad worked evenings and weekends, so we spent a lot of time growing up under the auspices of my mum – thankfully for Junior Bobby, Kath loved watching sports and it all grew from there.
As an eight-year-old, I can vividly recall getting a book for my birthday on the rules of NFL, which I recited and learned as I watched the game. Watching was not always possible – bed times as a child can be terribly restrictive especially when you’ve never been a great sleeper and I would listen to the radio coverage of the NFL quietly in my room – half listening to the radio and half listening for the creeks of the staircase. Of course, that was assuming my sister didn’t grass me up.
Dad has always enjoyed watching sports but for a slightly different reason. If he has a bet on a snail race and it is televised, he’ll be flicking the channels trying to find coverage. That is no doubt why I always had an attraction to data and betting, even if I fell into my role with Smartodds.
When HJ lived in Calgary and I spent a lot of time over there, I heard about this new device which allowed you to watch television over the internet if you had it connected to a cable/sky box and the internet. The Slingbox was to become a lifesaver on my travels. I picked one up in Calgary, took it back to the UK and connected it to mum and dad’s television. I had hit the jackpot. The issue with the Canadian box in the UK was that one feature did not work – the remote control – so for a good few years, if I wanted to watch something, I would call or text my folks asking them to change channel. They bought me a UK one last year and I can now change it myself – I can only apologise to them and my niece and nephew who are frequently disturbed by Scooby Doo being interrupted by Uncle Rob who wants to watch a random cricket game even though I am a ninety minute flight away. No wonder kids believe in magic.
I love my parents for many reasons and in many ways, but their love of sport and how it rubbed off on to me, along with a number of other characteristics goes a long way to explaining me. A good friend of ours often reminds me of how he watched the Stanley Cup Final with my mum from a hotel in Cologne as I drifted asleep for a period and Mum, watching at home, and him watching on my laptop via the slingbox, stayed the course at 4am. How many parents stay up til 4am to watch a Hockey match? HJ is in Innsbruck this week and I have stayed up til 3.30-4am every night watching Hockey or NFL. So if you wonder why I may be a little abnormal in doing so, look no further than my Mum.
It is funny how those kind of Stanley Cup moments stay with you and always will. In the last few years, I’ve attended a considerable number of sporting events, and I have tried wherever possible to take my parents to them. Christmas and Birthday presents are never easy these days – it’s fair to say that the culture nowadays is that we buy something if we need it. Given that they are sport fans, I like to give them ‘moments’ and ‘memories’ as gifts. Maybe it is an excuse for me to go also, I won’t lie! But more than anything, it’s my way of thanking them for instilling my passion for sport. I’m banking on neither of them reading this blog, but I’m looking forward to the next one I have lined up if I can somehow pull it off.
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
What if....
Whenever I fly to the UK, I invariably hire a car to get to wherever I am going. This Xmas, I was slow in booking and most companies were sold out apart from Dollar Thrifty, who have made it to Heathrow and are temporarily using a hotel car park….not the most glamorous of HQ’s but given what I paid compared to other companies, I could not complain.
It was the first time I rented from them, and it may be the last. It was awesome to get a brand new Golf, which was a great drive. Aside from a technical issue (the petrol cap was jammed shut!), it was a pleasant experience. My frustration with this one was over one of these cheeky clauses inserted.
A couple of years ago, car hire companies introduced an idea where you could buy a tank of fuel in advance and bring it back empty, or bring it back full. If you bought the tank in advance, you pay something like ten pence less than at the pumps...which sounds like a good deal. However, that is reliant on taking it back empty or as close as possible to empty. I always go for the 'fill the tank myself' option as it generally is cost effective – it is not easy to judge the miles per gallon/litre in a car you have never driven before.
Dollar insisted that it was a clause in the contract so I had no choice with this one for the first time ever. Therefore, that set me a challenge of taking the car back as empty as possible. I had to top it up with £20 to get down to London for my meeting and then I had a drive to my Heathrow hotel. When I packed up, the gauge was just above zero and the counter told me I had 5 miles left of petrol. The car rental place showed as 1.9 miles away which I had to drive in the morning. I went to bed wondering if I should take the chance and try leave the car virtually empty of petrol.
When I switched the car on the next morning, I lost my bottle when it said 0 miles to go on the petrol and I decided to pull into the petrol station close by. I added £3 of petrol. Who adds £3 of petrol? I was pretty sheepish paying, I can tell you that! Still, I refused to leave much in the tank.
After dropping the car off, I was wondering what if I had taken the chance and not topped it up, would I have got to the rental place? Would I have been spluttering down the road, coming to an eventual stop, then running a mile back to the petrol station, or even worse, pushing the car to the rental place? Given that I was so determined to leave it empty, I would like to think I would have pushed it the rest of the way out of spite, but I know deep down, that I would have been red-faced at pushing a petrol-free car into the car park. Who knows what would have happened. Had I not had a flight to catch, I may well have taken the risk, but it wasn’t the time nor the place.
I have written a number of times in the past about making decisions in my life, just as we all do. What if the Headmaster at John Smeaton did actually decide to expel me as he promised if I didn’t tell the truth about a misdemeanour? What if I decided to go to Durham University instead of Liverpool which I chose so I could see my beloved Everton each week? I do occasionally wonder what would have happened if I had not taken the £10k per year job at the Press Association when I left university and done something that I didn’t enjoy but was closer to my salary dreams. I do sometimes wonder what would have happened if I had not decided to do the Master. Life would have taken a whole different shape and direction. I have no real idea and in all honesty, none of it really matters. It is nothing more than intrigue as I would not change any of it. Regrets are overrated. Even if I wish I had somehow managed to get that car back to Dollar Thrifty without a cent of petrol inside.
It was the first time I rented from them, and it may be the last. It was awesome to get a brand new Golf, which was a great drive. Aside from a technical issue (the petrol cap was jammed shut!), it was a pleasant experience. My frustration with this one was over one of these cheeky clauses inserted.
A couple of years ago, car hire companies introduced an idea where you could buy a tank of fuel in advance and bring it back empty, or bring it back full. If you bought the tank in advance, you pay something like ten pence less than at the pumps...which sounds like a good deal. However, that is reliant on taking it back empty or as close as possible to empty. I always go for the 'fill the tank myself' option as it generally is cost effective – it is not easy to judge the miles per gallon/litre in a car you have never driven before.
Dollar insisted that it was a clause in the contract so I had no choice with this one for the first time ever. Therefore, that set me a challenge of taking the car back as empty as possible. I had to top it up with £20 to get down to London for my meeting and then I had a drive to my Heathrow hotel. When I packed up, the gauge was just above zero and the counter told me I had 5 miles left of petrol. The car rental place showed as 1.9 miles away which I had to drive in the morning. I went to bed wondering if I should take the chance and try leave the car virtually empty of petrol.
When I switched the car on the next morning, I lost my bottle when it said 0 miles to go on the petrol and I decided to pull into the petrol station close by. I added £3 of petrol. Who adds £3 of petrol? I was pretty sheepish paying, I can tell you that! Still, I refused to leave much in the tank.
After dropping the car off, I was wondering what if I had taken the chance and not topped it up, would I have got to the rental place? Would I have been spluttering down the road, coming to an eventual stop, then running a mile back to the petrol station, or even worse, pushing the car to the rental place? Given that I was so determined to leave it empty, I would like to think I would have pushed it the rest of the way out of spite, but I know deep down, that I would have been red-faced at pushing a petrol-free car into the car park. Who knows what would have happened. Had I not had a flight to catch, I may well have taken the risk, but it wasn’t the time nor the place.
I have written a number of times in the past about making decisions in my life, just as we all do. What if the Headmaster at John Smeaton did actually decide to expel me as he promised if I didn’t tell the truth about a misdemeanour? What if I decided to go to Durham University instead of Liverpool which I chose so I could see my beloved Everton each week? I do occasionally wonder what would have happened if I had not taken the £10k per year job at the Press Association when I left university and done something that I didn’t enjoy but was closer to my salary dreams. I do sometimes wonder what would have happened if I had not decided to do the Master. Life would have taken a whole different shape and direction. I have no real idea and in all honesty, none of it really matters. It is nothing more than intrigue as I would not change any of it. Regrets are overrated. Even if I wish I had somehow managed to get that car back to Dollar Thrifty without a cent of petrol inside.
Impossible is Moderation
If you didn't realise by now, Burns and I quite enjoy travelling. Exploring new places, attending a sporting event, meeting new people, investigating the latest trends, and watching a few more sporting events is all great fun. Staying in some cool hotels is pretty fun too.
However there are a couple of elements which are overrated - food and pillows. I have this thing about pillows - when I rest my head, there is a certain criteria I want my pillow to meet. The right balance between soft and firm is important but more than anything, I want a thin pillow. Nobody wants to suffocate in their pillow. Moving from hotel to hotel, it is rare I find a decent pillow....which is not conducive to me sleeping well. It's a good job sleep is overrated. I've never gotten over mum throwing out my 20+ year-old pillows when I left home - and yes mum, despite some of my gear being in the loft, I have left!
The second tough element of extensive travel is food. Of course, it is always cool to try new things - unless you're staying by the coast somewhere and every menu is full of seafood. At some point, thinking of what you want to eat every day for breakfast, lunch, dinner and midnight snack is tough when you have all kinds of options available to you. It's actually easier to have few options and you just want home cooking pretty swiftly.
After spending a month in the States, I now consider myself an expert in the art of fast food. We actually went quite easy on it....but it's fair to say that I have sampled most of the options.....largely for the benefit of this blog and its readers. So, I will give you my top five fast food establishments.
1. Chipotle
Legendary Mexican fast food chain and the fajita burrito is sensational. Super filling but you don't feel quite so filthy afterwards like you do in some other places soon to be mentioned.
2. Wendy's
The Baconator is my favourite at Wendy’s and it is something I have to do whenever I get to North America. In fairness, any of the burgers there are legendary and I defy anybody to tell me there is a better burger chain anywhere!
3. ‘wichcraft
The meatloaf sandwich there is the best sandwich I have ever tasted. Seriously. You can imagine my utter dismay when the Witchcraft in the MGM Grand was closed for refurbishments while we were in Vegas. Distressing. To compound the situation, imagine my dismay when I found the only other two ‘wichcraft’s in the States – in NYC and San Fran…..and they didn’t carry the meatloaf sandwich there. Heartbreaking.
4. Dairy Queen
Have you had a Blizzard from Dairy Queen? Try this combination next time you go – Score and Smarties, and add some extra Score and Smarties, and you’ll have the dream blizzard. Another must-visit when we are in Canada….pretty darn good.
5. Subway
Possibly the only fast food chain that doesn’t make you feel like heading to the nearest gym or liposuction surgeon. Some pretty solid options to mix things up.
Notable mention goes to McDonalds for making the McRib a regular feature in their menu once again. And despite what my beloved Landon Donovan and so many Americans think, In-N-Out is hugely overrated.
However there are a couple of elements which are overrated - food and pillows. I have this thing about pillows - when I rest my head, there is a certain criteria I want my pillow to meet. The right balance between soft and firm is important but more than anything, I want a thin pillow. Nobody wants to suffocate in their pillow. Moving from hotel to hotel, it is rare I find a decent pillow....which is not conducive to me sleeping well. It's a good job sleep is overrated. I've never gotten over mum throwing out my 20+ year-old pillows when I left home - and yes mum, despite some of my gear being in the loft, I have left!
The second tough element of extensive travel is food. Of course, it is always cool to try new things - unless you're staying by the coast somewhere and every menu is full of seafood. At some point, thinking of what you want to eat every day for breakfast, lunch, dinner and midnight snack is tough when you have all kinds of options available to you. It's actually easier to have few options and you just want home cooking pretty swiftly.
After spending a month in the States, I now consider myself an expert in the art of fast food. We actually went quite easy on it....but it's fair to say that I have sampled most of the options.....largely for the benefit of this blog and its readers. So, I will give you my top five fast food establishments.
1. Chipotle
Legendary Mexican fast food chain and the fajita burrito is sensational. Super filling but you don't feel quite so filthy afterwards like you do in some other places soon to be mentioned.
2. Wendy's
The Baconator is my favourite at Wendy’s and it is something I have to do whenever I get to North America. In fairness, any of the burgers there are legendary and I defy anybody to tell me there is a better burger chain anywhere!
3. ‘wichcraft
The meatloaf sandwich there is the best sandwich I have ever tasted. Seriously. You can imagine my utter dismay when the Witchcraft in the MGM Grand was closed for refurbishments while we were in Vegas. Distressing. To compound the situation, imagine my dismay when I found the only other two ‘wichcraft’s in the States – in NYC and San Fran…..and they didn’t carry the meatloaf sandwich there. Heartbreaking.
4. Dairy Queen
Have you had a Blizzard from Dairy Queen? Try this combination next time you go – Score and Smarties, and add some extra Score and Smarties, and you’ll have the dream blizzard. Another must-visit when we are in Canada….pretty darn good.
5. Subway
Possibly the only fast food chain that doesn’t make you feel like heading to the nearest gym or liposuction surgeon. Some pretty solid options to mix things up.
Notable mention goes to McDonalds for making the McRib a regular feature in their menu once again. And despite what my beloved Landon Donovan and so many Americans think, In-N-Out is hugely overrated.
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