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The EPL Model: How College Football is becoming the North American Version of the Premiership

  Since the inception of the English Premier League (EPL) as we know it in 1992, the combination of wealth, power and ego has transformed the concept of competition and parody into a frivolous argument used to only entice media advertisers and distribution mediums to continue the assault the intelligence of the audience in a feeble attempt to mask that only four to six teams only have a chance to win the crown each season.  The recent changes in the structure of college football over the past ten years, as well as the inception of true Name Image and Likeness (NIL), mass media TV brokerage deals, and conference payout rights only magnifies the chance that the structure of college football is not just becoming a professional league, but will soon model the multi-billion dollar conglomerate that dazzles spectators with amazing contests and leaves little on the table for fan desirability.  The purchase of what would become the EPL in 1992 by Rupert Murdoch created a mass influx of cash
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An Understanding of Sacrifice

  The clock said 72:12, but it felt so much longer; in fact, for a moment it felt as if time was not just standing still, but never-ending.  I felt like Dormammu and the workout was the equivalent of Dr. Strange tormenting me with the time loop.  The sound of 90s alternative still pounded out of the speakers, but all I could hear was the tapping of feet on boxes and labored respirations across the workout floor that was now pouring with sweat and soul captivity.  Faces were lethargic and grimacing in pure agony - and I am not sure there was any feeling of ecstasy when it was completed; more personal introspection on what just transpired and what we chose to put ourselves through for the past duration of a painstaking Bridgerton episode (and personally, equally exciting and painful).  “Chad.”  That was the task; 1000 box step ups with a 35/45 lbs. ruck. That was all.  A simple movement that required nothing more than the constitution of a level 10 cleric.   The stories are all harrowing
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Travels with Remo - Part 4

Sunday, July 4, 2021 We are leaving now.   Early in the morning, well, not too early.   We were able to get on the road just before 8 am.   Traveling on a holiday is never a great idea, but my thought is that if people went away for the weekend, they are already at their destination, and, I am going in the opposite direction of where many may go to attend the festivities.   It was time to leave.   Mom is up and around with a walking boot and able to move on her own.   Heck, she was doing exercises the morning after surgery, so my guess is that she feels fine.   I should not say guess.   I have been by her side for the entire week and she is recovering well and the surgery was a success so far.   We won’t be fully sure until she gets all of the stitches and pins out of her foot sometime later this month.   It is one of those things where this only so much I can do, and I need to get back and get some work done prior to the start of school.   My intuition was correct, and the roads a
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Travels with Remo - Part 3

 July 28, 2020 The day of the surgery.   It has been two days.   I have survived the weekend.   I have taken Remo on numerous walks.   I mean numerous walks because I need to excuse myself from the stale energy that emits from the dwelling my mother calls home.   I need to escape the vast center of negativity and close-mindedness.   It sounds like I am picking on my mom, I am not, but there are two very different perspectives playing out right here.   Two very different views of life and the existence of life as we know it.   To hear someone who just complains about much of what is happening and how people are living their lives as the pandemic is slowly ending (maybe), damages my inner being and attacks my emotional awareness.   I realize at that time that I need to adjust to the contrast that is thrown at me and find my happy, but this visit and subsequent caretaking after will really test my ability to not be triggered by the actions of my mother. It is amazing of how much my mo
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The Disinterest in Sports

There was a moment back in the fall of 1995 when on a Saturday I brought a radio with me as I went with my father to Marlborough High School in Los Angeles to help him work on the sets for a play he was hired to construct.  It was early, and I was perturbed.  I was getting paid, and I was in the play as well, but my day was ruined because I could not watch the Notre Dame Football Game that Saturday afternoon on NBC.  Marlborough High School was a beautiful secluded all-girls preparatory school located deep within the elegant homes on the Beverly Hills and Melrose border.  A sister school of all-boys Loyal High School and filled with million dollar dreams and wonderful opportunities.  It was as graceful as it was exclusive, and my dad booked a job here as the set designer.  When visiting I felt like I was on the set of 90210.  But the opportunity to work for $20 an hour, under the table mind you, was lost upon me.   It was October 28 th .   It was the Holy War against Boston College a
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Travels with Remo - Part 2

 Playa Del Rey, June 26, 2020 After battling traffic for over five hours, we finally arrive at my mother’s house.   I am realizing more and more that after the 18 years of directed captivity, many are taking advantage of their release from temporary confinement. Airports, roads, restaurants are packed.   Hotels are booked and it is hard to get a rental car or reservations for available activities.   It is open season for entertainment and indulgence, and travel shows it.   The break in the heat is nice, but the location is kind of a bear – it’s a condo, and Remo is a 115 lbs. German shepherd.   So, getting him out of the car and in the building involves opening and closing multiple doors and waiting for elevators.   I feel like I am moving a prisoner and stopping at check points.   God forbid I let him off of leash in the complex.   It has nothing to do with him, he listens – excepts if he sees a cat (or a squirrel) – it is the pretentious populous of the building.   But we arrive at
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Travels with Remo – Part 1

Many elaborate and life-altering adventures happen during moments of mishap and misfortune.  When things seem to be gaining momentum towards a new beginning, to then alter and move life’s purpose into a new direction; one that is totally altered from the journey that was sure to begin.  It becomes pure moments of quiet when the thoughts and the answers come.  The great American writer John Steinbeck published his book Travels with Charley in 1980 and much of what he discusses in his text are the thoughts and pressing matters that concerned him in the later moments of his life.  More or less his adventure allowed him to look at the American condition.  My more recent travels have not exactly taken me across much of America, but the journey that I have taken this summer only magnified my observation of my current place on my path of least resistance.  Las Vegas, June 26, 2020 It is 10 AM and it is already 95 degrees outside.   I have just packed up the GTI for our journey, now I hav
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The Power of Stories

When we think of inspiration, it is the curiosity that ignites the mind to pursue any endeavor that leads to a path of the unknown and undiscovered country.  The spark that sends one into a fervor of rapid intellectual curiosity cannot be squashed by any means for it is that in which all stages of evolution have come about – whether they can be categorized as good or bad, stimulating or indifferent.  It is the intuition given from the divine as we co-create with the Akashic record that exists among our universal consciousness.  For as long as life has existed, there is a linear pattern of thought that connects all of it together in a symbiance of collaboration.  And within that coordination of thought, stands the people who live within the layers of creation and display the ornate and intricate details that satisfy us with excitement and exhilaration.   It is the power of story that drives many of us to aspire to become a better person, brilliant thinker, or diligent worker.   The hu
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A METCON of Gratitude

I remember the day fondly.  It was Friday, June 18 th .  It was hot, not July or August hot, but it was hot as I began my journey through and across the Mojave Preserve on a warm summer’s morning, heading towards my new area of habitation – in location only as the desert that had become my home since 2004 will continue as my residence for now and the near future.  My white F-150 was packed to the hilt with all that would not fit or that I desired to be hauled by the movers to maneuver to my new home in the city of sin – well, just north of it.  It was a hodgepodge of items that resembled more of a person evacuating a zombie invasion rather than a relocation, tools, a ladder, baseball bats, clothes, food, water and two dogs (a German Shepherd and Great Dane) along with their accompanying food and toys.  The cab was truly a site to see, as we were all jammed in together just as three people trying to share a port-a-potty.  It actually reminds me of a time in my youth when my young friend
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