Guilty pleasures in sports

I'm writing this from the beach, which is a sort of parallel universe. One does things at a beach one wouldn't normally do at home, like read paperback novels about submarines commanded by quick-witted heroic types or drink cheap beer out of a can that's in a bright orange Home Depot huggy. As I type this, there's a man reeling in kite that appears to have Belle from Beauty and Beast on it, and his pal is pulling in one that has SpongeBob on it. I don't see any kids around. I'm guessing this isn't something they'd be doing were they not near the sea. Right now I'm listening to the Guilty Pleasures playlist on my iPod. Lots of Night Ranger, .38 Special, the Hooters, the Fixx, the Lightning Seeds, John Cafferty. (There might even be a Men Without Hats song on here. Or, shockingly, two.) Stuff like that. Stuff that I'm afraid to listen to on the subway because if I were to have a massive coronary and croak, I'd be mortified at the prospect of someone at my funeral saying, "Yeah, he checked out listening to Don't Take My Car Out Tonight." But were a sea gull to come and peck my jugular vein, I'd be OK with someone saying, "Yeah, he died on the beach drinking warm beer and listening to The Safety Dance." Because I have to believe that would be met with, "Well, he was on the beach, after all."

Anyhoo, since I'm in the land of guilty pleasures, I thought I'd write about the GP's the sports world affords us. Herewith, my favorites. (I'd love to hear yours, by the way. So don't be shy with the e-mails.)

? Televised pool: I can't explain it. There's something gripping about watching a couple racks of nine-ball, even if it's being played by a couple of character-less players. Which is to say, any two professional pool players. (The sport isn't overflowing with wacky characters. The most famous player of either sex is probably Jeanette Lee, who's known for, get this, wearing black clothing.) Still, I'll watch it if it's on.

? Jim Rome: I'm not a big fan of talk radio, because so much of it is godawful. And I think Rome is to blame since every station decided it had to have a guy like Rome, which led to a bunch of imitators. But I was listening to his show this afternoon, and both riffs I heard had me laughing. The first, which I joined in the middle, had something to do with being a salesman. (I think the caller was a salesman.) Rome talked about how hard it was and related how he failed both times he had a sales job. It ended with him encouraging the guy to find a new job with this nugget, which I'm thinking of having stitched on to a throw pillow: "When life gives you lemons, quit." The other riff, also joined in the middle, had something to do with an Orioles player who lives in a mobile home. Rome acted out a phone call between the guy (Steve Reed?) and Rafael Palmeiro in which the guy asks Raffy to come over to the mobile home to drink warm beer, shoot squirrels and whittle. Good stuff.

? The USFL: When I was 10 we moved from Cleveland, where we had Browns season tickets, to Alabama, which ain't exactly pro football country. (They tend to like the college game there, which is fine.) Then a few years later the USFL launched. It was awesome: there was a team in Birmingham, Brian Sipe was in the league, the team names and logos were cooler than what you got in the NFL. Thank god it lives on through ESPN Classic

? Major League: I hate sports movies that fail the credibility test, and this one doesn't come close. First, how could the GM of a major league team not know who his Class AAA manager is? And how in the world would Margaret Whitton get away with inviting a dead guy to spring training? What about the guys with long-term deals? And since when do players sleep in military barracks in spring training? And what ever happened to Whitton? She had the middle-aged woman with a nasty streak cornered with Major League and The Secret of My Success.

The implausible scenes continue unabated -- Tom Berenger stalks Rene Russo in a bullpen cart, which just happens to be parked by a gate -- but somehow this flick works. (Here's my biggest beef: The Tribe puts on the steal/bunt play that Berenger suggests, then Tom points to the fence. Next pitch dusts him. Why wasn't Hayes running with that pitch" You mean to tell me they had a sign for "Steal on the next pitch, because he's going to draw a high hard one from the pitcher") It's not just because it's about Cleveland and the Indians are my team. The movie paints a rather grim picture of Cleveland. We were watching this one night in my dorm room and one of my suitemates spent the first 15 minutes laughing hysterically at the shots of downtown. And this kid was from Wynne, Ark. No, the movie just has great characters and a ton of good lines. ("Are you trying to tell me Jesus Christ can't hit a curveball?")

Those are my top ones. Let's hear yours.

This guy. "Do you take this idiot to be your lawfully wedded husband?."

That's it for now. Thanks for stopping by, and remember: Your friends don't dance, and if they don't dance, well they're no friends of mine.