Ah, logic.
I took a class in it once. And only once, if you know what I
mean.
Aside from remembering little more than “if P, then
Q,” I think I left that class with a sense of just how
gratifying it can be to make fun of people who think they know what
they’re talking about yet, well, don’t.

I admit it. I was wrong.
I jumped to conclusions. And, well, that doesn’t work in a
relationship like this.
Now before you think this is an extremely public apology to a
girlfriend I still don’t have, let’s just say this
column is a result of a surprising revelation: Slow sports
aren’t boring.

More and more I find myself thinking I’m an old man.
At the ripe old age of 20.
All thanks to UCLA Recreation.
A few weeks into the dodgeball season, I keep looking back to
those days in elementary school when I used to be a dodgeball
all-star, almost always finding myself the last one standing at the
end of recess.

Los Angeles: It’s a big city.
So big that there’s room for redundancy in athletics.
Two NBA teams. Two Major League Baseball teams (with a doubly
redundant presence in the name “Los Angeles Angels of
Anaheim”).

There’s just something about the underdog, the little
guy.
Something that makes you want to see him take out the bigger,
“badder” opponent in an unexpected blaze of glory.

They used to seem a little strange, a little crazy to me.
In fact, I’m sure at some point I actually shook my head
and scoffed at them in naive disapproval.

Here we go. Again.
Here’s yet another Beat ‘SC Week, which invariably
means people smashed up a car Monday and thought it was a great
exhibition of school spirit.

There’s this strange idea I have that as someone trying to
write about sports, I should at least watch a game or two over the
course of a week.

Three game points.
In the fifth game, no less.
And at the end of the women’s volleyball game against USC
on Friday night, even with the urge to contribute to the heckling
and banter that comes with the crosstown rivalry, an even greater
urge came over me.

I love this time of year.
The quarter is half over, and though burnout is setting in, the
end is in sight. And with holidays galore approaching, time-off
galore is approaching, too.