While getting my daily Wikipedia fix earlier, I noticed that it was a racing day. I learned that Colin McRae just died (I don't know anything about WRC, but I know that there's a video game named after McRae), and I read about the recent espionage scandal involving the Ferrari and McLaren F1 teams.
Long story short, a disgruntled Ferrari employee gave a McLaren guy some classified documents of the Ferrari design and, yadda yadda yadda, McLaren's been disqualified from this year's constructor championship, and has been fined an inconceivable $100 million. McLaren also has to show the design of next year's car to the F1 head honchos by December, or it'll be disqualified again next year.
Maybe it's just a series of coincidences, or maybe I'm just more aware of things now, but it seems that there are a lot more controversies in the world of sport these days then there were when I was a kid. So we have this F1 scandal, then there we had that NBA ref Donaghy betting on games. Then there was this really hyped up American football scandal involving this player, Michael Vick (who earlier this year was caught trying to sneak pot through an airport), running a dogfighting ring from home. Then there's all this crap about doping that's tainted everything from baseball to the Tour de France.
But you know what the weird thing is about all this? I love this shit, man. It makes things so interesting doesn't it? Wow, all that drama! I don't like sports as a spectator (although I do follow tennis from time to time) as much as I like playing sports, so I don't read the sports pages much. But when there's a scandal, man, I am following all the stories. It's great! Maybe it's schadenfreude--those guys make millions, and then oops! Ha ha! But sports scandals are great to watch, especially if no one gets hurt--physically, I mean.
On a different note, my buddy and I went to a used book sale today. I had wanted to go on Saturday, but my so-called friends backed out on me and so I used that day to just loaf around the house. But, man, am I glad I went eventually. To be honest, their record selection was disappointing, but I got a whole lot of books. To many for a bag, so they gave me a box. And you know how much I spent? Eighteen bucks. Like I told the lady behind the counter, I felt like I was getting away with something. I bought this one book from 1922 in which the original owner had inserted a review of the book from a newspaper back then. I doubt I will read it, but the imagined history of that book compelled me to buy it. My friend also found this religion book from 1904 that I kind of wish I'd bought. They were also selling a book for $225 which belonged to one of Abe Lincoln's people. "How do you know?" we asked. "He wrote his name on it," they answered. I've always been fascinated by the history of inanimate objects. They don't know where they've been or where they're going, who's held them, yet here they are today. Here was a book that, over a century after having been in the hands of Lincoln's man, was being looked at by some kid from the Philippines, of all places, who happened to find his way to Rockville, Maryland on this particular day. Is it fate, or is it coincidence?
I didn't by the book, though. Two hundred bucks! Geez Louise!
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