7/30

Soccer on Saturday. One goal and 2 assists in a 4-0 win. Played as a lone striker and should have had at least one more goal, but that's the beauty of soccer that many Americans will never understand: You get no points for doing almost everything perfectly. I know, the same is true in basketball, but in basketball you get to do it all again on the next play. In soccer, you'll have about 20 scoring chances in 90 minutes against a very bad team. In an even match up, you'll have five chances if you're lucky. And you have to do everything right when those chances arise. With your feet.

4.5 miles on Tuesday in 34 minutes. That's approximately 7:30 per mile, which isn't bad considering the stop-n-go nature of city running and the idiots who walk 4-wide on the sidewalk. My next purchase will be a steel-toed running shoe. The left shoe, when placed into a buttock at high speed, will leave the word "COMMON" imprinted on the flesh. The right shoe, which will inevitably follow it's partner into battle, will leave "SENSE" behind. If you newspapermen and women are trying to think up a catchy title for the sweaty man leaving messages in buttocks across the city, may I suggest "The Adidalante" or "The Jaded Jogger". Although I'm more of a runner than a jogger, I'm willing to sacrifice accuracy for marketability (call me, Oprah!)