It’s tough when I’m dieting (which is most all the time given my propensity for corpulence) since I don’t eat bread then.
But I did slip over the other day to the recently opened Epic Sammich Co. in a little storefront on Highland between Cherokee Road and Baxter.
Now those dudes know how to make a sandwich, even if they need work on their spelling.
Tasty. Unique. And bountiful. Rarely am I, a husko gordo of the highest order, felled by only a half a sandwich. But, I actually took half of my Cuban home to finish later in the day.
They’re also savvy enough over there to serve “Dirty” Chips, which are, one guy’s opinion, the best.
Which sandwich eating interlude I thought of, when I viewed Terry Rozier’s appearance on some folly of an NBA Network TV show, during which he made his favorite sandwich.
Two slices of white bread, crust removed. Spaghetti with tomato sauce. Upon which is added table sugar and mixed. That combo is places on one slice of bread. Then is doused with a generous portion of ranch dressing. Top with other slice of crustless white bread.
Which, and I don’t mean to offend one of my favorite Louisville Cardinals ever, is what I’d do.
When Rozier explained this is the food he grew up on, it became clear, as if the tales of his family’s poverty weren’t already well known, why he turned pro, when another season of college might have honed his game.
But the Celtics picked him in the first round. Good for Terry.
We must assume, the team’s nutritionist will tweak his diet.
* * * * *
One of the strange things about professional golf is how fans seem to root more often for the favorite than for an underdog.
Myself included. (Except in the case of Tiger, whose haughty arrogance and air of entitlement always turned me off. Then, when he turned out to be a womanizing cheat on his bride, well, you know.)
So, yes, I rooted for Jordan Spieth in The Open.
Because, it would make a great story. The thought of Spieth and Serena closing out the summer sports season with chances for a double Grand Slam were simply too irresistible.
Because he’s just a kid.
Because he’s really great already at his vocation.
And, because, while he’s generally bland, he appears to be the paradigm of the gentleman golfer, we’ve come to appreciate through the decades.
He blew The Open with a four putt on a par three. And a poorly played 72d.
Yet, despite his obvious disappointment, he stuck around, watched the playoff from the St. Andrews clubhouse. And was among the first to congratulate winner Zach Johnson.
So, I’d love to see him blast the field at Whistling Straits.
If it happens, young Jordan will have surely surpassed young Rory as The New Tiger.
* * * * *
With each major victory, she comes ever closer to being unanimously regarded as the best woman tennis player ever.
2015 Aussie Open ✔︎
2015 French Open ✔︎
201 Wimbledon ✔︎
2015 US Open ?
I’m sure hoping it happens.
* * * * *
Rick Pitino’s international coaching debut did not turn out quite as well as he would have liked.
Puerto Rico 59, Brazil 92.
* * * * *
No, I don’t have any insight on where Maverick Rowan intends to matriculate for his college education.
— Seedy K
1 thought on “Hump Day Eve Harangues: Spieth Slips, Serena’s Soaring & Terry Rozier’s Sandwich”
I haven’t been able to eat a sammich since I read about Terry’s favorite concoction. My Gawd, the humanity of it all!
Comments are closed.