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I'm Cecil, class. I used to be one of the three legs of the indomitable Iron Triangle, before I got a job with the city and stopped breathing. Government work will do that to you.

It's past time--I mean, really past time, like I-can't-believe-my-blogger-log-in-still-works past time--for me to jump back onto this heezy. For shit's sake, my Broncos are 6-0. 6-0! The Nuggets opened up with a YUGE victory over the historically racist Utah Jazz, the Colorado Avalanche are evidently a hockey team and Dan Hawkins looks more and more like Alley Oop with each passing hour.

So, catching up. I've been killing my recent spare web-surfing time at The Big Lead. You probably know it, it's one of the interwebs' bigger sportin' blogs and is mildly famous for being victimized by a Colin Cowherd-sponsored DOS attack. I prefer it to Deadspin for a variety of reasons, chief among them that it doesn't make me want to hang myself with a cloth belt. But there are some cracks in the foundation, ever-widening chasms of netfail that might potentially chase me back to, sigh, work.



Let's start with the biggest: the guy who runs the site (and goes by an eponymous handle) loves, loves, loves him some Jason Whitlock.

Whitlock, to my mind, is the most egregiously awful fraud in sportswriting. He's endlessly egotistical, enamored of his own nonexistent wit, misogynistic to the point of repulsiveness and grossly obese. His voice is fey and cloying, yet he's always on radio and television. He hold meaningless grudges, coins stupid nicknames and is as big a hypocrite as you're likely to encounter over the course of your natural life. I suspect, as well, that he's an editor's nightmare--the dude's practically even admitted as much, saying that he needs someone who "isn't afraid of working hard." By which I guess he means, someone who isn't afraid of waiting for late, shitty copy tossed off by a guy who frames his own clippings.

But because TBL scored an interview with him way back in the infancy of the blogosphere, he's evidently permanently in Big Sexy's camp, no matter what. Fuck, if I see another "you won't believe what Whitlock said now!!" post, I'll switch to the online Christian Science Monitor and start, uh, learning about Christian Science (I think they are for it, but not totally sure).

Second issue: there's this newfound tendency for the commenters to start in on wrestling. Like, Hulk Hogan and shit. With actual opinions, considered arguments, favorites and theories. Fucking wrestling. I had no idea that anyone over the age of 11 and not permanently time-looped in the year 1986 actually cared about wrestling. Honest, I didn't. Nor did I want to find out that, all this time, I was wrong and that there they were, hiding out in cyberspace, telling each other tall tales of Rowdy Roddy Piper and the NWO. I can handle the occasionaly political blowups, the meatheads who think they can punch you through their computer screen and even the Bears fans who wake up each morning with a tall glass of Pure Delusion, but wrestling? Fuck me. I don't want to think about wrestling, even by accident. Thanks a ton for that, TBL.

Otherwise, good blog.