You know, life is like a horse race. Think about it.
You got the track, representing your life—difficult, harrowing, with competitors every step of the way, and still furlongs to the finish line.
You’ve got the crowd cheering you on, representing your family, your friends, acquaintances, even people you don’t like—people that are there, witnesses, for better or worse, to your race.
There’s the race’s announcer—that little voice in your ear, telling you that you can’t give up yet, that the finish is just one more turn around the bend.
There are the other jockeys, representing the challenges that you’ll face along the way—whipping at you with their riding crops, their mounts biting at you with foam-licked maws, striving only to bring you down and drown you in defeat.
And for protection, all you’ve got are silk pajamas and a funny hat. Metaphors, perhaps, for the face you present to the world—your experience, accomplishments, your races won, your opponents bested. Without these, you are nothing but a naked midget on horseback.
And what of the horse? What does this sturdy beast represent? Perhaps your drive and ambition, whatever that thing is in your mind that won’t allow you to give up. Maybe it’s the help you receive along the way from friends, family, those you love, that propels you on.
But maybe not. Maybe what it represents is the passage of time, unyielding, unrelenting. It doesn’t stop when you need time to make a decision; it doesn’t give you a minute when you need to collect your thoughts; it doesn’t slow when you pull back on the reins; it doesn’t slow, even when you can see the tragedy unfold; it doesn’t slow when you trip; it doesn’t slow when you fall; it doesn’t slow as you hit the turf; it doesn’t slow as you’re trampled beneath its sharp hooves; it doesn’t slow as you roll, bloodied, battered, beaten…broken.
That horse is a bitch.
It is thus that I start this, The Week That Was. As follows:
MOVERS AND SHAKERS
No moves this week, as players look to improve via timely waiver hawking, pitch-and-ditch strategies, and chasing the hot hand on the free agent lists. Either that or the league is starting to stratify, and haves don’t want to give anything up to the have-nots.
TOP PERFORMERS
Nick was a strong performer this week, coming from seemingly nowhere as the Teen Girl Squad jumped several slots to find himself sitting in second place. Ryan continued his hot streak, sitting pretty (well, not that pretty. It’s Ryan.) atop the league.
TOP PERFORMERS: At Sucking
My offense. I believe my team hit something like .100 for the past week. And to add insult to injury, I had Derek Lee on the bench and Richie Sexon in the lineup on the day that Lee decided to play Roy Hobbs and Sexon lost his starting job.
BASEBALL, RAY
The Cubs had their throats ripped out in NYC, losing 3 of 4 to the Metrosexuals. Unfortunately, it was largely their own doing, as they failed to capitalize on any and every chance they had, culminating in blowing a 6-run lead in the final game of the series. They rebounded, however, to take two of three from the South Side Meth Addicts. The highlight of the series, without a doubt, was an injured Derek Lee coming off the bench in the 8th with the bases loaded, his first at-bat in almost a week, and hitting a grand slam to put the game out of the slimy reach of the Greasy-Haired Mulleteers.
FIN
And that…was The Week That Was.