Wednesday, February 20, 2013

Listening to AM sports talk radio in Kansas City this morning... wondering if I had stumbled into the restroom at Kelly's Westport Inn at closing time

Listening to 810 AM radio this morning while waiting out a Fleetwood Mac tune on XM. Too lazy to change channels on the XM radio, I just stuck with the default station arcing across the air in Kansas City.

What the heck. A lot of big stuff is happening in sports right now in Kansas City. KU faces a crossroads moment tonight. MU pulled off a brilliant upset last night. K-State played like champs Monday night.

Baseball is in the air. Spring training is in full swing. The World Baseball Classic starts Saturday. News seeps out every day about the Miami connection to performance enhancing drugs. News also seeps out every day of the NCAA investigation into Miami athletics and one particular coach now located down in Columbia.

Just a lot of stuff going on. To say nothing of the terrible news about the four-alarm fire last night on the Plaza, which you suspect would transcend the boundaries of news to sports for most people.

And, for fifteen minutes I’m listening to three guys – I think three but maybe more – discuss – well… that’s not exactly the right word for it – blenders.

That’s not a new sports term for a ‘glue guy’ or a ‘team player.’ That’s blenders, as in those glass and plastic cones that sit on ultra-sharp blades with terrifying motors you use to make salsa and – apparently, vegetable and fruit smoothies.

I don’t know who these three guys are, not even their names. I have no radio attachment to them at all. Consequently, I’m not really interested in their opinions of blenders. That’s true even though no opinions of blenders were actually expressed. I’m not sure what was expressed. The ‘conversation’ barely rose above the level of static.

To be honest, I don’t think they actually finished a single sentence during the time I listened.

The 'segment' started with a loud rapper not in the background and a guy who was apparently talking with a mouth full of undigested peanuts, competing at exactly the same volume for attention. Either one could have been understood alone, but together they sounded exactly like two people yelling into your ear at the same time. I mean, it was just brutal. And, what came out of the car speakers didn't get better once the rapper was finally podded down. In fact, instead of two people talking over each other, now there were three. Or, as I said, maybe more.

After a few miles, I had that long forgotten AM radio moment. You know the one, the moment you say to yourself, ‘Why the hell am I listening to this nonsense ’ When I say 'nonsense', I literally mean non-sense. Without sense. Incoherent. Or, something more colorful. Fleetwood Mac was, at that precise moment, over on XM, and Eric Clapton was on. And, I was no longer too lazy to push the button.


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