Hey Blue Jackets, We Need To Talk....

Dear Columbus Blue Jackets,

It's not me, It's you.

We've been together since before your 2000 season. I remember the excitement that stirred my city when trying to think of a name for the team. I loved the buzz created when the idea of "Mad Cows" surfaced as a potential nickname.

I remember how young and in love I was in that 2000 season with what was my first NHL team. Our relationship was new. I went to the 3rd game in the shiny new arena against Colorado and the crowd went crazy with each fight. Yes, the game was an eventual loss, but we were excited by the new relationship with our sports team.

The years passed. I still loved our team. I carried the flag. There was always the promise of the future with our team as we would be promised that next year would be different.

We had some great times together. Nash's goal against Phoenix is the greatest goal I have ever witnessed watching a game. Zherdev's goal against Chicago as he single-handedly threaded the entire defense from end to end may even be an equal to Nash's.

But it's about the misery and bad times. I don't want to drudge up the horrible past by listing all the bad things I've had to endure in this abusive relationship of me as the fan. It's just too hard and painful that I have been there faithfully and holding out hope for things to turn around.

I just don't care anymore.

I know you may try to sway me with a small winning streak the next few days or logic like "We've been together for 13 years!" or "All that time is just wasted if I don't stay with you."

As my buddy Shawn would say, "That's a sunk cost. [I'll] never get it back."

It's just time to say good-bye. I will always treasure you as my first hockey team, but it's just time to move on. You'll always hold a special place in my heart and I wish you the best.

Bryon

Pizza Time

At my local establishment last night, it was a little crowded. The young lady serving me came over, shaking her head with a smile on her face.

"What's so funny?" I asked.

"So this couple over there ordered a pizza," she tells me. "They got it half cheese and half sausage."

I had a quick flashback to my childhood and the pizza wars of having two siblings who only wanted pepperoni and cheese where I wanted other items on the pizza.

She continued her short story. "The server brought it out and served them each their first slice. Both slices she served them had sausage on it."

I couldn't help but laugh.

A Rite of Passage

Comedy can come from anywhere.

As I walked into the men's room of the local establishment a dad walked in with his daughter in his arms and his son walking next to him. I was about 5 seconds behind him. His daughter was about eleven months. His son was three or four years old.

I saw his son walk away from the toilet stall as I walked in.

"Go on," urged the dad, with his daughter in his arm, as his son walked towards him. The boy walked into the lone urinal stall and I ended up walking into the adjacent stall where the toilet was.

I actually have my own issues in public restrooms. They are typically filthy and I have a bit of OCD with not wanting to touch things in there. At least my fears of a congressman to my right were unfounded and I know this because there was not a shoe sneaking into my stall while I was in there.

Then I heard something that made me want to bust out laughing and I had to hold it in.

"JUST POINT UP!" directed the dad.

I thought I was going to lose it. The urinal must've only come down to the boy's chest, I'm guessing. The boy had not said a word. I could only picture in my head that he must have looked at the urinal, down to his pants, at his dad, and then at the urinal again.

I don't recall the first time I used a urinal. I hope he's not traumatized by his first experience. It was so funny though hearing the dad try to explain to him what to do.

I guess this does qualify as bathroom humor.

No animals were harmed in this post.