Perspective from Pitino

I'm wound so tight right now that if you flicked me in the right place, I might erupt in a Howard Dean Primal Scream. No amount of soothing talk from friends, family, or canines can calm my frayed nerves. If I were an old lady, I'd have a glass of sherry and knit myself into elderly oblivion.

For two years running, I've been bested by an ice storm. You might recal in 2003 I was forced to give in to help from a hottie volunteer firefighter when my none-too-studly SUV got stuck on the ice. This year, I happily relegated myself to driving a sensible Honda Civic with front wheel drive. It worked on two trips to work, and one trip back. On the final trip back, I made it all the way to my street and promptly crashed the Civic into my neighbor's Ford Explorer. The truck's tow package punctured the Civic's fiberglass. I shrugged, because that's when I do when situations fall out of my control.

I might have been able to deal with the annual ice humiliation had it not been for my inability to walk across my street (it sits on a slight incline) without sliding down into traffic of the main road. That is I might have been able to deal with it all better had I not had to crawl...on my hands and knees...across the damned street. At least the volunteer firefighter wasn't there to watch.

And all night long, frozen drizzle mercilessly coated the already frozen streets. It was evident even before I went to bed that I would require a ride to work from someone with a 4x4.

My wife, as the regular reader will already know, is pregnant. I tried to be a good husband. I really did. After watching her suffer the same humilation of crawling across the street, I got out this morning and poured sand on our front steps. I figured she could walk down the sand, into the crunchy grass, and to the roadside where the 4x4 would pick us up. I didn't count on the grass not being crunchy everywhere. She slipped. She fell on her butt. I launched into two straight hours of sympathetic worry for the Baby To Be Named Later. Of course, she is fine (if all web sites, my mother, and a doctor are to be believed), but you just don't like to see that happen.

So, there's all that. Ice storm, broken car, humiliation, and first-time parental panic.

And then there's work...politics, Panthers, ice storm, fatal hotel fire, etc.

In an effort to calm myself, I spent some time reading the sporting news of the day, and I realized that Lousiville coach Rick Pitino is having a rougher go of it.

Ths season, a former player died, his mom's caretaker died, his former nanny's kid died, one of his his forwards' brother was shot and killed, and another forwards' dad died. In 2001, two of his wife's brothers died, one in a car wreck and the other in the September 11th attacks.

And now he suffering excruciating pain from what he calls a urological problem. He's having to take a leave of absence. In his place he leaves an assistant coach who got busted for recently for DUI.

And according to Sports Illustarted, Pitino said, "I'm a very positive person. We're going to hope for the best in every situation."

So, life is stupid right now. I'd like nothing more than to be sitting in the April sun on my back porch, sipping a beer, strumming a guitar, and laughing with friends.

But at least I'm not Rick Pitino.