Recapping recent events, some less interesting than others:

- Nemo's visit was fantastic. Too short, because they always are, but a good combination of one-on-one hanging out, group hanging out, game-watching, and roommate-meeting. R/DS comment from Nemo: "The first thing I noticed, is that he's really, really fat." He was also awkward, and pretty much encapsulated much of the awful stuff I've written in the 24 minutes of Nemo/R/DS interaction.

After the visit, Nemo wrote that, "collectively, [my coworkers] are a homerun." I laughed out loud.

After the visit, a coworker said to me, "I liked Nemo a lot. A whole lot. And that ring on his finger made him a whole lot hotter." I didn't know how to react, so I stayed quiet and resumed folding t-shirts, or something.

- I had an amazing and awkward experience with the R/DS on Monday night. We were both leaving the house, me to meet coworkers out (I extended the invitation to him), and he to get fast food. (Three dinners a night, after all.) We followed the same route towards downtown. We took lefts at the same light, with me using the inner lane and using the outer lane. We progressed to a stoplight, with me one car ahead of him. The car ahead of him took a right on red. He pulled up - I turned his way, started to smile, moved my arm into "friendly wave" formation - and he didn't acknowledge me. Just an immediate right. Seemed excessive, and definitely intentional. Over the top.

- Tuesday was definitely our first dustup. We were discussing a lineup change for the club, and I said that I didn't like the move, and he explained why the manager was making the move, and I said that it still didn't make sense to me, and he said, "Why don't you go ask the coaching staff about it? They don't bite, you know." This set me off - completely. I go hard all day - doing stupid stats crap, helping out in every department at the ballpark, generally acting as an extra set of hands to anybody who needs it - and never show up in the booth until two hours until game time. He, meanwhile, heads to the booth within two hours of getting to the office (so, like, five hours before I do), and openly watches DVDs and takes naps and is generally disagreeable. He does conduct a manager's interview at about 3:30.

So when he dropped in the "they don't bite," my response was immediate: "Are you questioning my effort, [R/DS]?" And I said it angrily. And it was on.

Never personal attacks, but nothing nice was said. I stated my frustrations that the daily stats pages that I produce (and that I told him - gently, very early in the season - were probably more work than they were worth) hadn't been printed by him since the beginning of June. He said that I take joy in pointing out his mistakes. I said, "Well, I didn't say a thing last night when you misidentified the catcher at least once an inning." It was intense (and, yes, that happened).

So, I'm next door, venting to the coworkers who operate the scoreboard and public address system. And I'm giving a play-by-play of the altercation, and as I'm saying, "Basically, I don't like him, and I'm pretty sure it's mutual," he's coming in the room. It was pretty apparent to everyone involved who "he" is.

I think it's probably for the better. No facade of friendship; coexist for now, and see what happens. Still, I don't like conflict, and this was definitely conflict. Interestingly, he said (inaccurately) that the top of the first inning that night was the best half-inning we'd done all year.

- A coworker offered the inside information Monday night that I was definitely getting an invitation to her wedding in September. I didn't think we were at that level, but I'm certainly happy at the opportunity, I think. It's local, so no cost to be incurred, and that's important. She's calligraphing (word?) all the invitations herself, and they're pretty awesome. I'm imagining her hand hurts.

- Office tensions are definitely starting to emerge. It's good to know that it happens everywhere. Interns don't get along with other interns, interns resent supervisors (check!), full-timers harbor bitterness towards better-paid colleagues, and everyone hates - or at least resents - the bosses. It's good to know that, in a baseball season, nobody's ever completely, or mildly, happy. Still, far more comfortable here than last year.

- I did leave work angry today for the first time since about the first two weeks that I arrived. I had been working in our store from the time I returned from lunch until leaving time, at 6. New shirts came in, and I did hours and hours of folding. So, 6:05 rolls around, and I'm heading out the door satisfied with my effort and looking forward to a beautiful night off, and my boss calls to the store. Am I down there, she asks. And the phone's handed to me. And she's wondering if I can write a press release, now. And I'm thinking, This information wasn't available four hours ago? You couldn't have asked for it then? But I grudgingly, without a smile, acquiesce. It was a pretty poorly-done release, I'm not proud to admit, because I was pretty pissed. I did not stick around to make small talk with the boss after finishing.

- Count me among those who love the Bulls' acquisition of Ben Wallace. I also love Tyson Chandler, but I understand the reason for the impending trade: Given the chance to sign three among the group of Gordon, Nocioni, Deng, or Chandler to go with Hinrich, Chandler's the last selection. Now, the money's there to get the other three. (If I'm not mistaken, J.R. Smith was considered a great shooter out of high school; maybe he'll bring it to Chicago.)

Hinrich-Gordon-Deng-P.J. Brown-Wallace with Nocioni, Duhon, that Swiss dude, Tyrus Thomas and, if he can shoot, J.R. Smith, off the bench is pretty darn good. And can probably do a bit of running. They'll score 104 a game next year, and it'll be awesome to watch.

- I really wish that I could be at Randy Walker's funeral on Thursday. I am not afraid to admit that I cried several times on Friday, when I found out about his heart attack. Had to leave work for a half-hour early in the day to collect myself. The outpouring of condolences from around the country on the Cats message board I read was pretty remarkable.

For the record, I think Pat Fitzgerald should be named head coach. Not interim coach, but head coach. Jerry Brown should stick around, remaining as assistant head coach until he dies. Why risk losing Fitz, whose charisma is the future of the program?

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Both Sports Illustrated and Newsweek published double issues last week. I hate double issues, because I don't get a single issue this week. Sucks.

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WIDiRVoFOW

This Week's Reason: During broadcasts, he dwells on the absolutely most unimportant stuff. He sacrifices description for minutiae, and it sucks.

Examples: We've got a guy with a 14-game hitting streak. The R/DS acts like it's important - real important. Says things like, "You really hope that the team can rally here so that he gets another chance to extend that streak." It seems like you could tell people what the ballpark looks like instead, particularly in a blowout. A hitting streak warrants a mention or two, but not an obsession.

He doesn't know the rules about unearned runs, suggesting on air that a single to left-center, on which the baserunner scored standing up from second base, should be an unearned run because the centerfielder committed an error that allowed the batter to advance to second and because, "On a hit plus an error, you can only assume that the runner would have advanced as far as the batter went." This is wrong. Scorer's discretion rules here.

So I disagree on air, because I can't justify giving flat wrong information to listeners (though I'd rather not dwell on the earned- or unearned-ness or runs, anyway).

And the inning ends, and I hand him the rule book.

As I'm calling a batter in the next half-inning, he tells me (and the listeners) that, according to the rule book, I am correct; the run is earned. Then he stares down at the book, and starts to read the pertinent rules - the one he thought he should follow, and the one that overruled it. He started talking fast immediately after the first pitch, and continued right on until I interrupted - Curveball for a strike - then he went right back to reading the rule book over the air.

Just seems that he's dwelling on the unimportant. Could've just read the pitcher's line at the end of his outing, right?