"Career Fair"

I saw the best minds of my generation, trapped in business suits, clutching leather briefcases, being siphoned into a job market that doesn't really want or need them. I saw our innocence disappear behind full smiles at a moment's notice, with empty conversation flooding the parameters of the room. I get it. We'll pretend that we know about your regional, for-profit organization and agree that your website's graphic design is phenomenal. But I know the truth. You're a savant of suave, a hired company pawn, sent as a walking billboard to this pre-professional audience of skeptics. You remind us of our desire to be wanted, to be needed, or simply, to be.

I join you in this superficial dance, though a sheer look of horror is plastered on my face. Stop looking at my blue travel case. I picked it up at a conference once, and it's better to carry this than my Jan Sport book bag. I only mimic the movements of others, hoping that the flaws in my character don’t permeate my appearance.

Hello, beautiful girl that skips our mandatory class every Friday. Yes, I too am glad that we maintain this need-based friendship, and will forward you the homework assignment tonight. I notice that you are extending your arms to embrace me. If we had but time, I would hold you in my arms and whisper sweet phrases from my favorite lyricist into your ear. But here, in this dimly-lit auditorium, I shudder to think of their response to our warm embrace. You should know that the corporate world frowns upon hugging. I hope that my sweaty, nervous palm extended will suffice.

You see me walking, gripping my writer’s notebook, hoping that my internship experience will impress you. Yes, I know that I didn’t match my tie with my suit, but you shrug and offer a polite courtesy. I flinch, and then look at the unfamiliar lines of your palm to gain some semblance of a hint to your personality. I need to know what makes you tick. I shake your appendage firmly while looking into your eyes and nodding. Oh my name. You hold onto my hand too long. Now it sits in your grasp like a dead fish. I panic and say my name louder than expected. We decide to sit down and I hand you my resume. Unfortunately, my resume is Word processed like everyone else.

You grow tired of this dance and promise to contact me with any future opportunities. I brighten for a moment, gather your free mug and pen, and saunter toward the next booth. I know full well that I must be the one who initiates further contact regarding employment, but I know my role. I resign to my station and continue to play the game.

I grow tired of this rat race. I wish to return to my room to watch successful writers yell at each other for a half-hour. But, alas, I must remain diligent. I crave self-worth and mustn’t find myself absent of opportunity following graduation. Yes, I do like receiving your organizational charts and business cards, but I’m afraid that you just don’t want me. Let’s stop this charade and enjoy a refreshing stroll along the embankment of our pond. You like strolls, don’t you? Perhaps an afternoon beverage jaunt will be adequate.

I apologize for my intrusion. I promise not to break character again. I humble ask for employment. I’ll reprise my role…and continue to play the game.

Mike Benjamin, II

NFL, College Cliches, and the Best Bro-Sis Combo Ever Assembled!

Fact: College is the best four years of your life.

ENNNNNN! Wrong answer!

I hate it when people use this phrase to summarize their college careers. Whenever someone casually tosses this cliche into conversation, I wince, peer into their eyes, and give them the People's Eyebrow. True, I'm enjoying college, but if this experience serves as the highlight of my life before I've lived my next two months, two years, or two decades of my life, that's a sad commentary in regards to my future. Granted, I'll miss the HBO network and the free Honors Office printers, but I'm not afraid of moving on. In God, I'm ready to take on the next challenge, accomplish the next goal, and inspire others for Christ along the way. These entries serve as a humorous but nostalgic signifiers of great moments and awesome experiences. Yup, I'm getting wistful already.

So, before we get to the next point on the list, let's agree to make college mean more than a stupid cliche quote. And if you haven't been maximizing college life, it's time to get moving. As Ferris Bueller would say, "life comes pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you might miss it."

Things I'll Miss About College #3: Going to School with My Sister!

Do you really want to know what love is? (More than anything in the world, Ron.) Well, I'll admit that I wasn't really sure what to expect when my sister, Arielle, formerly accepted the scholarship offered to her by The Howard University to join its few but proud students. (Note: I feel that using the determiner "the" prior to a common name gives that name way more credibility. (The Bronx or The Dark Knight, for example) So, look forward to seeing tons of "The Howard University" mentions sprinkled throughout this blog post.) However, I am so glad that Arie decided to attend the Real HU. I am convinced that her decision to attend our university was not only the primary catalyst that grew our relationship to that of "best friend status", but also provided a sensible but encouraging voice that has helped me to become the student and person that I am today. (Plus, she's probably the coolest person on our campus.) All jokes aside, I am truly a proud older brother who can only praise God for what he's doing through Arielle. By far, Arielle and I are the best brother-sister combination ever assembled! Period.

First, no one has better quips, funny theories, and quick-hitting jokes than the Arielle/Michael combo. Over the years we have promptly constructed a list of approximately one trillion quips, one million cripping disses, and ten trillion inside jokes. To me, Arielle is like the Android 18 to my 17, the Cheryl Miller to my Reggie Miller, the Cece to my Bebe Winans. If you've ever been blessed (or willing) to see a movie, eat a meal, or travel anywhere with Arielle and I, you understand that our dynamic duo is like taking a bite of a well-made cheesecake. You're not sure which section of the cake tastes better, the filling or the crust, but you know that you are consuming an awesome delicacy.

Secondly, Arielle's understanding about women that I would have no chance of knowing (and for the record, still have zero chance of fully understanding). When Arielle tells me not to date a girl, I listen 99% of the time - partly because I know that she's helping me out, and partly because she's just so dang convincing with her explanations. Really, I can rattle on for hours in the space about my sister and her accomplishments (ExxonMobil, Abbott, et al), her talents (poetry, anything using the computer, her geniousness, smiling), or just Christ in her life...but I don't want to sound like an overzealous B-list actor that receives an award at the stepbrother of the Academy Awards Golden Globes. Anyway, you get the point. When I move on from The Howard University this spring, I'm going to miss our time together. As I would say, it's been pure awesomeness.

Since I'm supposed to be a sportswriter, let's go ahead and get to some football picks:

NFC: Giants over Eagles (20-17)

I love watching Chris Berman's "Two Minute Drill" on Friday nights during the football season. This week before the big Eagles/Giants Super Bowl, safety Brian Dawkins dropped this gem during the segment.

"This is what the season's coming down to. Me running full speed into big men."

Really, has the season really come down to Dawkins headbutting 330-pound linemen in the sternum (a la Zinedine Zidane) on any given Sunday? Isn't that the most bleak outlook on professional football you've ever heard? Seriously, doctors calculate that football players crashing into one another on any given play is equivalent to a simultaneous car crash. For the record, you will never catch me destroying my shoulder blades for the betterment of the team! If my coach told me to commit spinal suicide during football games, I would stop, spit directly on his Dr. Scholls, and quote Julius's classic line from Remember the Titans: "Why should I give a HOOT about you, or anybody else on this team? NOBODY PLAYS! I'm supposed to wear myself out for the team? WHAT TEAM? YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

Brian, you may want to sit a few plays out, champ.

NFC: Panthers over Cardinals (Infinity to Sub-Zero)

Okay, this might be the easiest game to pick this weekend. That's why the network executives argued to shove this borefest into the 4:15pm Saturday slot (because no one will forfeit an entire Saturday afternoon for this). Although I'd love to go against conventional wisdom and pick the Cardinals (so that the G-Men will have an easier route to the Super Bowl), I decided to concede victory to the Cats. Arizona is playing this game without WR Anquan Boldin (who in my definition is the most BOSS player the NFL has even seen), on the road, in a cold-weather stadium, with a terrible defense (who only beat Atlanta because they stopped the cutback system in the zone blocking scheme), the classic previously-underrated-but-now-overrated-because-everybody-talked-about-him-all-week guy (Edge James), and a quarterback who's probably hiding varicose veins underneath his leggings. Unless Ray Carruth breaks out of prison and flat-out maimes a guy on the field, we can all agree that the Panthers will take care of business with K-Ci and JoJo at the running back position.

AFC: Pittsburgh over San Diego (11-10)

I'm still bitter about the first meeting between these two clubs. First, we've got two offensive teams, slouching around in the crappiest field in the NFL today (Heinz Field), playing probably the most meaningess 4:15 game in recent memory. Of course, because I thought that Norv would wet the bed well before 7pm, I sidestepped my homework and watched this atrocity. Plus, my boy Troy Polamalu got robbed of a sure-fire TD that would have started heads rolling in Vegas (Pittsburgh would have covered the point spread). Uhh, not that I gamble or anything. (Ducks thunderbolt) San Diego can only hope that Mike Scifres (the guy who will be the highest-paid punter next season) drops about ten punts inside the 5 and that Big Ben's offensive line will offer Luis Castello 5years/$50 million by opening up the doorways to Roethlisberger's ankles. (It's possible - remember the Giants and Eagles games.) Otherwise, the Steel City rolls.

AFC: Baltimore over Tennessee (16-13)

Ray Lewis! Albert Haynesworth! Who's going to score the most defensive TD's? It's the NFL on CBS! This is going to be like one of those first-person, walkthrough, Nintendo 64 "Rampage" style bouts at LP Field. This summer, I drove by LP Field while in Nashville and laughed aloud. Why? Because I loved the idea of Titans fans possibly being one Vince Young injury/mental breakdown away from cheering hard for Kerry Collins, a guy who is guaranteed to look for cover when he sees flashbacks of the 2000 Super Bowl. (Yup, I'm still bitter.) Plus, without a solid deep-threat (really, the only weakness of Baltimore's defense...ask the Colts), the Titans have no chance of winning. And yes, I know I'm throwing my support behind a rookie quarterback on the road (Joe Flacco). Let's just not bring that up.

Plus, I can't stand the idea of my buddies (Ray and Earl) dancing in the streets of Vanderbilt University in jubilee while my New Jersey York Jets continue their search for the next Al Groh. Life as a perennial loser...you really can't get much worse.

Enjoy the games, everyone.

Mike Benjamin

The Courier's Tragedy: Christmas Day's Game-Within-The-Game

I, like most of the sports world following the opening of presents on Christmas morning, watched the revenge play unravel on network television with the Lakers/Celtics matchup. First, I'll admit that the game was well worth the wait. After living through a plethora of promotional commercials and melodrama over the last few weeks, I was glad to see both teams involved in a frenetic and stimulating game for our viewing pleasure. In the eyes of many spectators, the NBA season doesn't really begin until the NBA's annual double-header on Christmas afternoon commences. If you've decided to join the throng of basketball enthusiasts and begin your analysis of NBA action on this traditional celebration of the roundball, here's a quick wrap-up of what you've missed since October 28, 2008:

1. Devin Harris (NJN) and Danny Granger (IND), welcome to super-stardom. Both currently find their scoring averages (23.6 and 24.5, respectibly) among the league's leaders (7th and 5th). To put these stats in perspective, Danny Granger is averaging more PPG than Carmelo Anthony, Chris Paul, and Dwight Howard (members of the 2008 Olympic Team). Impressive.

2. Lebron = Best Player in the Game. Period. For a more detailed explanation, check out my boy Johnathan Tillman's post about Lebron's" ascension to the league's throne.

3. In 2006, the Suns' prolific "Seven Seconds or Less" offense featured Nash, Bell, Marion, Diaw, Stoudemire and game-changing coach Mike DiAntoni. Now? Steve Kerr's tinkering has left the hightly-touted team with a core group of Nash/Shaq/Stoudemire along with the monster contracts of Jason Richardson and Matt Barnes. Do you realize that if Robert Sarver had decided to pony up the Benjamins for Joe Johnson following the 2005 playoff-loss to the Spurs, the Suns could have been going to battle with a core group of Nash/Johnson/Marion/Stoudemire right now? I hate when owners get too greedy at the most inopportune times.

4. Starting pitchers C.C. Sabathia, A.J. Burnett, and 1B Mark Teixiera all became New York Yankees! Oh, I'm sorry...wrong sport. (Flashes toothy grin...)

Instead of sitting motionless in front of my television watching Kobe's fustian theatrics or KG's menacing scowl during this Christmas basketball jamboree, I decided to examine the intricacies of the game-within-the-game. Just as the confused Hamlet monitored the king's reactions during the famous "Mousetrap" stage play (Act III, Scene 2) and Thomas Pynchon's Oedipa watched The Courier's Tragedy for clues to solve her personal dilemma, so also will I delve into an intriguing analysis of this titanic Christmas clash to make sense of this Boston/L.A. rivalry in the context of the NBA Season. So, let's pay homage to Public Enemy, and fight the power after the random (but somewhat relevant) photo:

Act 1 - Doc Rivers: "I'm" Smart and I Want Respect!"
First, let's agree that this game meant more to the Lakers than it does to the Celtics. Phil Jackson understood this idea, choosing to play only his trusted rotation throughout the 48 minutes. Looking at the box score, we see that while Phil Jackson played his horse (Kobe Bryant) for 43 minutes, Doc Rivers only played his main man (Kevin Garnett) for 37 minutes. Let's not kid ourselves into believing that this game erases Boston's 39-point Game 6 skewering of the Lake Show during the much-warmer month of June. No matter how much David Stern and Co. wanted us to believe that this game rivaled those with playoff implications, a regular season game is still a regular season game. Doc understood this, and decided to employ his reserves to give them some freedom on a level similar to what they'll be experiencing come playoff time. So, to quote Fall Out Boy...thanks for the memories, L.A. Doc just pwned your "revenge attempt" for talent evaluation.

Act 2 - Kendrick Perkins: "Oh, I'm Sorry...Did I Break Your Concentration?"
Kendrick Perkins is an angry man. Kendrick Perkins is a furious man. Kendrick Perkins is one of the reasons why Pau Gasol whimpered his way back to Spain to recover after the NBA Finals was over. Honestly, I don't think I've ever seen Perk smile. Henry Abbott, writer of the blog True Hoop, talked about the idea that Kevin Garnett is a basketball player that most people would hate playing against because of his purported bad attitude and propensity for trash talk. KG's on-court anger has fused with Doc's "ubuntu" concept, turning his teammates into a collection of athletes tenacious about winning. In other words, Perk has completely imitated KG. What's wrong with that? Absolutely nothing...if the league were fair and balanced towards big men. However, since Perk isn't KG, he'll be subject to criticism and issued technical fouls for his belligerence. To me, there's nothing wrong with furious anger...as long as it stays on the court. There's nothing better than seeing guys compete intensely in a league that has become softer than a roll of Quilted Northern towelets. Plus, it's great seeing the better players (Pau/Odom) cower in the midst of Perk's awesome might.

Act 3 - Paul Pierce: "It's" So Hard to Say Goodbye to Yesterday"
To me, Paul Pierce represents the last of a dying breed of wing player; guys who can handle defensive assignments and carry a team in crunch time. Back in the NBA's Golden Age (1980-1998), you would be hardpressed to find a player incapable of guarding his position. Now? You've got "Wince" Carter, T-Mac (let's not blame it on the back problems) and guys from high school/colleges who rode their athletic ability, circumventing instruction in regards to the art of defense (think: Carmelo). Paul Pierce is the basketball equivalent to the five-tool player of baseball (Speed, Arm Strength, Hitting for Avg. and Power, Fielding). Basketball savants chronicle Paul Pierce's basketball game in the same way that guys do when they spot a legitimate 10 -- treasuring the moment, subtly smirking, elbowing their best friends to make sure they're paying attention, but sadly knowing that this specific moment will never be duplicated.

(A quick tangent: I'm angry at Terius "The Dream" Nash for trivializing the perfect-ten concept in his momentary hit single "Shawty is a Ten". The Dream violated Man Law by allowing a quietly understood system of male communication (i.e., the "rating system") to enter public consciousness. No respectable guy would ever toss this phrasing of "you're a ten" around in such a careless manner. As I mentioned in the last paragraph, we rarely use this phrasing due to the lack of actual tens in mainstream society. We guys cannot allow our vernacular terminology to become as useful as the American dollar in Europe. If a guy were to employ this philosophic term in the presence of a woman, it would mean one of two things:
1. The guy in question is married. Or engaged. No exceptions.2. The guy in question lacks game.So Mr. Dream, please don't use this terminology in such a cursory manner again. I really don't want to have to dust Suge Knight off to take care of business. Don't let the door hit you on the way out. Thanks.)

Act 4 - Danny Ainge: "I Need Mo' Allowance"
As the venerable Rick Pitino would say, "James Posey isn't walking through that door, fans. JAMES POSEY ISN'T WALKING THROUGH THAT DOOR!" Because of Ainge's refusal to pony up for Posey's services, the Boston Celtics aren't the same team that they were last year. Tony Allen isn't the same defensive stalwart that Posey was last year. In his attempt to guard Kobe on Thursday afternoon, Tony Allen picked up a paltry first-half stat line of 3 fouls, 0 points. With those old bodies getting older (Allen, Pierce, KG), the C's are going to need guys like Allen, Giddens, and Powe to fill in the gaps when necessary. If the Celtics look as miserable as they did in the first half of Jesus' birthday, it'll be tough for them to repeat.

Overall, the Christmas games were solid. Honestly, they should have stuck to the two-game slate, or just axed the Hornets/Magic drubbing.

But then again, maybe the basketball fan doth protest too much.
Mike Benjamin, II

Talentless Actors, The Horror of "Hulk", and HBO's Greatness!

Editor's Note: A few Facebook "notes" ago, I stated that I'd be "sporadically writing about certain memories that have influenced and encouraged my writing career". However, I decided against spending my next few Facebook "notes" writing about those influencial writing moments for two main reasons. First, who really wants to spend ten to fifteen minutes reading about my life? As we English majors discuss at length in our classes, Americans lack patience. Nowadays, when people attend events that contain pockets of time completely devoid of action (baseball games, church sermons), we immediately start getting antsy, sigh, and send a mass text on our cell phones to maximize entertainment value. ESPN's Bill Simmons would call this phenomenon the 150 Minute Rule (scroll to Number #1). To ask you, my faithful readers, to listen to my diatribes about writing would be an arduous task. At this moment, people are constantly vying for your attention. While you sit here to read this paragraph, I guarantee that you've received a text message, gained another Facebook friend, and hunted for the nearest dictionary/thesaurus to look up the word "diatribe" to see if I used it correctly. Honestly, I'd have an easier time asking Keanu Reeves to take classes at Juillard to become a better actor than convincing you guys to sit and read these postings. (Plus, I need to save those writing stories for dates and my future autobiography "The Audacity of Hope (Remix): A Barack Obama Michael Benjamin Story.")

Since I'm starting to get wistful about my time at college, I've decided to take some time to get nostalgic about the university experience in general. Since I waxed poetic about the 5th floor of Howard University's Drew Hall a few weeks back, I'll begin today by talking about the greatness of the Home Box Office channel. Enjoy.

Things I'll Miss About College #2: HBO
When a new movie comes out and hits the box office, I pride myself in being the last possible person to see the flick. My propensity for laziness in regards to watching movies stems from a terrible experience that occured back in the summer of 2003 that can be summarized in three words: The. Incredible. Hulk.

Honestly, I should have done my research before agreeing to venture to the movie theater with my friends that summer. First off, when a movie is headlined by a guy with no real acting experience other than a show that bears his name (Eric Bana) and can be tossed around in discussions as the "unknown actor" or the "I've never heard of that guy" actor, you can immediately color me nervous. I believe that every actor/actress has to go through the gauntlet of accompanying roles and TV appearances before landing a leading role in any feature-length film. This allows the actor/actress an opportunity to foster their acting potential, experiment with a bevy of different styles (due to the variety of storylines within a sitcom), which helps them to gain necessary experience and curry favor with the viewing audience. Most importantly, the actor doesn't get overexposed. Allowing an actor/actress to get overexposed before they've honed their acting talent is like allowing an one-dimensional basketball player to become the face of your NBA franchise. That's just a recipe for disaster. (Yes, I'm talking to you, Gilbert Arenas (owner of an egregiously large salary) and the ownership group of the Washington Wizards.)

Let's look at Cuba Gooding's acting career, for example. In the meaning-making 1991 film Boys N the Hood, John Singleton did a great job of surrounding the talented but raw Cuba Gooding, Jr., an actor fresh off of a minor role in the classic Eddie Murphy comedy "Coming to America" with a solid foundation of actors to learn from (Lawrence Fishburne and Angela Bassett), other young emerging actors (Nia Long, Morris Chestnut) and characters that were destined to become typecast as soon as the movie hit the cineplex (Regina King). In many ways, this movie was dually a life-training course for young Tre in the 'hood of Compton, LA and an opportunity for young Cuba Gooding to experience the Hollywood limelight in a significant role. After nailing the role of Rod Tidwell in the chick flick (ahem, sports film) Jerry Maguire, Cuba Gooding expanded his motion picture catalogue (Men of Honor, Boat Trip, Radio) with the understanding that he can act in any movie without concern for his reputation because the audience has already embraced his abilities and acting candor.

To me, putting together a spectacular movie cast is similar to the process of creating a solid basketball team. You need your franchise guys to bring the pain (Kevin Garnett and Paul Pierce) and your supporting, one-dimensional guys to compliment your superstars and fill your team's needs (Ray Allen, James Posey, Kendrick Perkins). That's why last year's Kevin Garnett trade to Boston was so pivotal. The Celtics lacked an inspiring superstar, and KG lacked a solid supporting cast, because, well...a superstar can't do everything.

When Crash came out and won the Academy Award for Best Picture in 2004, it laid out the ultimate blueprint for success in Hollywood. If a group of talented actors can merge their skills (a la Captain Planet and the Planeteers) and agree to put aside top billing in order to forward a common goal (money and an overarching message), then ultimate success can be achieved. The 2003-2004 Los Angeles Lakers tried this strategy, which ultimately backfired. Gary Payton lacked the maturity to concede his superstar status to Kobe and Shaq (and the understanding to realize that his best days were behind him), Shaquille's earning potential was in doubt (Kobe Bryant had just resigned for a huge deal) and hung over the team throughout the entire season, Kobe didn't fully buy into the system (as he was trying to stay out of jail), and Karl Malone was injured and couldn't fulfill his obligatory one-dimensional duty - court toughness. To win a championship, players must set aside their individual concerns for the benefit of the team, which, in the case of the 2003-2004 Los Angeles Lakers, wasn't possible.

That's why the Wilson Brothers, Vince Vaughn, Will Ferrell, Ben Stiller, and Jack Black are the hottest collection of comedy actors in the movies right now. These guys (along with director/writer Judd Apatow) hold the components and understand the formula for on-screen success. Plus, all of these guys (minus Luke Wilson) are living in their prime, but don't overexpose themselves too much. The "Frat Pack" all act in one another's movies, bring the perfect amount of physical/sarcastic/slapstick humor to the table, and incorporate other pieces (Seth Rogen) to their team in order to reciprocate their talents. The reason guys like Robin Williams eventually fell out of favor with America was because we saw Robin in every movie with a comedic twist for a 4 to 6 year stretch (Mrs. Doubtfire, Jumaji, Jack). Plus, Robin's attempt at true acting (see: the Final Cut) rather than the "comedic faciliator" role that most SNL frontmen enjoy probably slid his career from A-list to B-list. Sure, he's still putting out quality films (Night at the Museum), but the "Frat Pack" has officially usurped his status as comedy film king.

Of course, as a 16 year-old kid, I payed cursory attention to detail. I felt (Mistake #1) that "Hulk" HAD to be good, only thinking about the simple equation of (cartoon hero + action + accompanying girls = awesome). Without considering the proper research, my companions and I hustled to the movie theater and waited for three hours to see Hollywood's first attempt at "The Incredible Hulk". If you haven't seen it, don't even consider putting yourself through this inhumane torture. You'll probably start sobbing uncontrollably and yelling "WHY!!!!" by the end of the third scene.

Nowadays, I always wait for some stooge (usually a buddy trying to hook up with a girl) to spend his cash on a half-decent movie and report back his findings. If the movie's bad, I can save my cash (or buy a rack of Nabisco's Nutter Butter cookies), chill out, and commence to beating the crap out of Glass Joe in Mike Tyson's Punch Out!. If the movie's good, I then stroll in the following weekend at my convenience (right before the trailers begin), own up the best possible seat (middle-top, mid row), stretch my body across the entire row, and laugh aloud to my heart's content.

After receiving the HBO network after our school decided to upgrade our network package in 2007 - an underrated but spectacular move by HU's administration, by the way - was dually a blessing and a curse. Although the student body's GPA was destined to free fall like Tom Petty, HBO gave me an opportunity to see all the movies that I deemed unworthy to receive my movie dollar. Last week, I watched "My Super Ex-Girlfriend" twice and laughed equally hard both times as Wanda Sykes stated her insignificant lines. Plus, I caught a replay of "Transformers" (with Louis from "Even Stevens") and decided to add Shia LeBeouf next to Deon Richmond to my mental canon of "actors I must watch an episode of Dragonball Z with someday". (By the way, does anybody know what the heck happened to Ren?) The only problem with HBO's programming is their unprecedented bad timing in regards to the "Real Sports with Bryant Gumbel" broadcast. This show is an awesome sports program, but needs to be couched in a back-to-back time slot with "Costas Now" to assuage the pain and call it a day. HBO executives, when I expect to see a mediocre movie in the middle of a dull weekday afternoon, there's no worse feeling than flipping to your channel and seeing reruns of a "Real Sports" episode from mid-July. If you're going to call your channel the Home Box Office network, let's stick to the script and show some movies. Or, at least an Entourage marathon. Now, the ball's in your court. Do the right thing. Thanks.

Since I'll probably just start a Netflix account once I get my own pad, this will be the last time in my life that I watch this heavy of a dose of HBO before graduating. I love the channel, but not enough to warrant tossing down that $10-a-month subscription fee.

Well, unless HBO starts showing films that fall under my earlier characteristics. Then...we'll see.

Michael Benjamin, II

Wait, What Just Happened?

As Flavor Flav would say...WOW. Honestly, I really don't know how to react.

If you didn't hear about the trades, here's the story from ESPN.com,

The Golden State Warriors and New York Knicks have received league approval to complete a trade that will swap disgruntled Warriors forward Al Harrington for Knicks guard Jamal Crawford.

ESPN The Magazine's Ric Bucher confirmed the league's sign-off after reporting early Friday morning that the teams were nearing completion on a deal featuring Harrington and Crawford.

The Knicks announced the deal in a news release later Friday afternoon.

Less than two hours later, the Knicks completed another deal, sending Zach Randolph and Mardy Collins to the Los Angeles Clippers for Tim Thomas and Cuttino Mobley, according the The New York Daily News.

So, there you go. We sold our shoot-first, dribble-always shooting guard (Crawford) and our hefty big man with an even hefter contract (Randolph) for what amounts to the pu-pu platter, as well as contracts that will be expiring in 2010. Though I wasn't ready to write this season off just yet (I mean, we are 6-5), I feel confident that we can grab one of the superstar chips that will be on the free agent market in two years. Check out the some of the names real quick:

Potential Free Agents in the Summer of 2010

Lebron James (maybe, probably not)

Dwayne Wade ( very possible)

Chris Bosh (a mortal lock, especially since he's trapped in Canada right now)

Amare Stoudemire (big contract, old coach, very probable...won't have to play any defense)

Steve Nash (36 years old, relive MVP days)

Dirk Nowitzki (shoot-first big)

Michael Redd (shoot-first SG)

Richard Jefferson (athletic wing player)

Josh "I Smoke Weed Everyday" Howard

Yao Ming (marketing ploy to Asian population of NY)

Tracy McGrady (don't really want either Rocket for D'Antoni's system, but hey, they'll be here)

So that's where we stand. If you live in New York, get used to seeing "The Hunt for Lebron Continues, Knicks Routed by Magic" headlines in the Daily News and the New York Post for the next two seasons.

In other news, Marbury is active for tonight's game against the Bucks.

(I'm just saying.)

-Michael "TTK" Benjamin

How My Life Got Real Busy...

Hello Loyal Readers,

Sorry for not checking it at all over the last two weeks. I've been writing columns for the sports section at my school's newspaper, the Hilltop. I've pretty much had a personal mission to make our sports section the awesomeist location for sports news in campus news outlets, and we're well on our way. (Big ups to Howard for beating a Pac-10 team last week!)

Secondly, my computer definitely crashed last week. I love the internets more than a fat kid loves cake, but since I've been computer-less for the last week, I've started to lose my connections with the blogosphere and (gasp!) rely solely on local news and ESPN for my sports information. ESPN is cool and all, but in order to be a good journalist, you need to break out of the ordinary and reach for new ideas and new thoughts to cultivate good writing. Well, for that and more McNabb jokes.

My work has been starting to pick up, and I'm also getting noticed by other bloggers. So, check my stuff out at The Hilltop Online, Infinite Gen (started by some other HU students), and my sister's blog, Forever Chasing After You.

Keep checking by periodically, and I'll try to finish the monster post that I've had waiting for the blog by Thanksgiving.

Until then...peace. (New York Knicks 6-4!)

-Michael "TTK" Benjamin

Redskins: Good Indicator Of Election Winner?

Hail to the Redskins!

Well, maybe not in every game, but tonight’s anyway.

According to Forbes magazine’s report in 2007, the Washington Redskins are the second-most valuable franchise in the NFL, trailing only the Jerry Jones-led Dallas Cowboys. The fiscal success of this Washington-based franchise is predicated on their preservation of a number of great traditions. Those traditions include the adoration of the famous (or infamous) “Hogs” offensive line established during Joe Gibbs’ first tenure with the team and their live marching band, a throng of musicians the owners continue to squeeze into their 91,000-capacity stadium.

Every Sunday, Washingtonians attach team flags to their radio antennas and jerseys to their backs, waiting for their team to trounce an unsuspecting foe and praying for the Redskins’ ascension to the pinnacle of the NFL. While living as an observant college student in the D.C. area over the past four years, I definitely regard the Redskins’ fan base as one of the most united and dedicated groups that exists in the NFL today.

However, before this edition of “Monday Night Football” (Redskins vs. Steelers), some of these diehard Redskins patrons will have to make a tough decision. During the game, you may see fans that normally bang their fist on their chest and yell violently after a big Clinton Portis resort to giving their star running back a simple round of applause. Instead of standing to witness Santana Moss potentially run a punt back to the house, some fans will probably resign to crossing their legs and watching the return from the big screen.

On Monday night, loyalties will be tested, friendships lost and fans divided. Why?

Well, according to the stats, the Redskins have the ability to predict the White House.

Over the last 17 presidential elections, the Redskins have been the most accurate barometer of success for either the Democratic or Republican Party.

Here’s how it goes: If the Redskins win the game prior to Election Day, the incumbent political party will retain power and regain leadership over the United States. However, if the ’Skins lose before the election, the rival party will defeat the controlling party in the White House, and party power will switch hands.

In other words ... if the ’Skins win, McCain wins. If the ’Skins lose, Obama wins.

The Redskins’ prognostication prowess began in 1936, when the Boston Redskins downed the Chicago Cardinals 13-10, signaling a win for FDR and the incumbent Democratic Party. During the heated presidential race of 1992, Redskins fans already knew Bill Clinton would be our next leader after witnessing their defending Super Bowl champs fall to the New York Giants in a rout at home.

Don’t worry, Washingtonians. Since George W. Bush trounced John Kerry in the 2004 presidential election (even though the Packers had defeated the Redskins on the Sunday prior to voting day), the reliability of the ’Skins’ election barometer has been questioned. Heck, you might just be able to pencil in your vote for Barack Obama and still cheer valiantly for your beloved burgundy and gold. As for me ... well, let’s just say that I’ll be starting Ben Roethlisberger in my fantasy league this week.

So football fans, don’t be afraid to yell “Let’s Go Redskins!” on Monday night.

Or, you can just hold your cheers in until next week. We’ll understand.