Sometimes it’s impossible to keep track of the world of sports, even though I am ostensibly supposed to do that for a living. It’s not because I’m largely immersed in the world o’ writing, which I am. And it’s not because I’m overwhelmed by a chaotic romantic life, although that situation is real as fuck, too.

I can’t follow sports because there’s so much going on that’s thoroughly illusory.

While I thoroughly appreciate the economics of LeBron James’ free agent choices, especially where it impacts my old Northern Ohio stomping grounds, I’m really not feeling the pornographic attention being paid to his, Dwayne Wade, etc.’s potential moves. Call me an old fart, but I remember the days when you just picked up a — gasp — newspaper the day before or after a move happened and learned about a star’s free agency choice. Then you either booed or went, “Yay!”

Obviously, things done changed. The money’s stoopid. The media’s ravenous. And, also, the media is ravenous. C’mon, if you don’t think that more than half the reason NBA free agency is occupying space in your brain has to do with eidtors, producers and other suits filling airtime, you’ve not yet fathomed why Mel Kiper has a career.

So, settle down on your NBA free agency consumption. It’s not like David Stern is adding a third hoop into the equation. (Which would be really interesting, actually.) Nobody’s made goal-tending legal.

Settle down.

Also a matter of hype is whether Stephen Strasburg will ultimately be selected for next week’s MLB All-Star Game.

I got a look at Strasburg…

JaMarcus Russell’s fail is interesting to me. If you’re gonna get busted, get busted for a compelling controlled substance.

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