The more I see of Hard Knocks: Training Camp with the Miami Dolphins on HBO, the more I'm left wondering, "why would any team voluntarily participate in that?" Athletes are humiliated, and coaches are exposed as clueless. Where's the up side?

The big moment in the second episode was the firing of Chad Johnson. Johnson was arrested last weekend on a charge of domestic battery against his wife of just over a month. The footage on last week's Hard Knocks hardly portrayed the pair as a loving couple. They barely looked at each other and came across as as two individual desperate for more time in front of the cameras. I guess this is another lesson in being careful what you wish for.

My problem with the situation wasn't that the Dolphins released Johnson, but how they did it. Johnson entered Head Coach Joe Philbin's office well aware of what he had done. Rather than let Johnson know that he was being cut, Philbin let the poor, desperate man dangle for a few minutes before weakly dismissing him with more of his milquetoast "I'm not trying to be a dictator" bullshit. I suspect that Philbin was trying to come across as sympathetic or considerate, but managed only to act uncomfortably embarrassed as he fidgeted in his overstuffed seat. Way to lead, Joe. I'm sure both men were glad there were cameras present to capture the moment for posterity.

In all fairness, I have to say that my growing distaste for Philbin has not been helped any by the series editors. In both of the episodes so far, the lead-in has edited a series of events to put Philbin's actions and comments out of context. Last week, we opened with Philbin failing to give a player a chance, unaware that uniquely incompetent General Manager Jeff Ireland had already rigged the game behind the scenes. This week, we heard Philbin's side of a telephone conversation that sounded like it was belittling his wife's relationship with Philadelphia Eagles Head Coach Andy Reid's wife, instead of commiserating about both Philbin and Reid having recently lost children. Maybe the man puts his foot in his mouth naturally, but NFL Films isn't doing him any favors.

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Of course, the whole reason Trey, Leslie, and I went to Ohio was so that Trey could attend a professional soccer match between the Columbus Crew and the visiting Chicago Fire.

I have to admit that I had more fun at the soccer game than I had thought I would. The atmosphere was enjoyably electric, and even the soccer match was unusually exciting so far as soccer games go. (The first goal was scored within the first 9 minutes, preventing the 0-0 tie I was expecting.) The Columbus fans were friendly and reasonably well-behaved, the exception being their children. Those little bastards went largely unsupervised and seemed to enjoy throwing their Pepsi cups and other trash between sections. Clearly, they are future Ohio State University students.

Naturally, with no preference between teams, I chose to root for the Crew. Trey claimed to have no favorite MLS soccer team, but Leslie insisted that he is secretly a Chicago Fire fan. The Chicago fans made the Columbus children look like amateurs, throwing smoke bombs and bottles on the field. There was even a fire in the parking lot after the Fire lost, an event I don't consider a coincidence. I'm sure that Trey felt like he was attending a Philadelphia Eagles game.

So that was my first soccer game. Would I do it again? Yeah. Maybe next time, we can go to a stadium that serves Coke.

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I finally returned to Miami on Sunday, and despite my previous declaration to the contrary, I forgot to bring a snorkel. Miami, however, remembered to bring the rain, at least through the first quarter. The rain stopped just in time for the Eagles to score 21 points in the second quarter, allowing the sun to come out and bake those of us stupid enough to sit through the rest of the game.

This was my second visit to Sun Life Stadium (formerly Landshark Stadium, formerly Dolphin Stadium, formerly Dolphins Stadium, formerly Pro Player Stadium, formerly Pro Player Park, formerly Joe Robbie Stadium), home of the Miami Dolphins. I can now say for certain, that it is far more disappointing to watch the Dolphins lose in their home stadium than it is to watch them lose on television. The Dolphins played as poorly as they have all year, and their loss to the Philadelphia Eagles ensured another losing season and the dismissal of Head Coach Tony Sparano. Good riddance.

It didn't help the experience that I was surrounded by idiots and assholes. Behind me sat some pre-teen children who cheered for the Eagles despite no awareness of when it was appropriate to start screaming. (I know they were true Philadelphia fans when they began discussing how they would kill the Dolphin's mascot given the chance.) The group in front of me spent all game screaming trash-talk, mainly at women. (Between taunts, they discussed the best strip clubs in the various NFL cities they had visited.) The douche to my right, an *ahem* Atlanta Falcons fan, tried to convince everyone around him that he was a true Falcons fan because he owned an officially branded pair of Falcons socks. (However, he spent more time discussing the NBA and the necessity of "respect" than the game.) And the fellow to Trey's left spent the entire game texting, never looking at the field. (Although he did frequently ask Trey to update him about what had just happened.)

As we began the 9-hour drive back home immediately after the game, Trey made me promise that the next time we take one of these cross-country trips to a game, we have to spend at least as much time in the city as it takes us to get there. That means that I have about 4 years to come up with something to do for 2 days in Philadelphia. At the very least, I know that I'll need to buy some Eagles' gear; after 12 hours in Philly, I suspect anyone wearing any other teams' colors might get shot.

It wasn't until Trey and I stopped at a rest station just south of Jacksonville that I actually interacted with someone who didn't irritate me. There I met a season ticket holder who has been traveling the 5 hours between Jacksonville and Miami since 1971. He dryly mentioned that he's seen a lot of bad football lately, a reference to the fact the day's loss ensured a third consecutive losing season for the franchise for the first time since 1969. Despite that, he said that he looks forward to future wins, and I guess that's what being a fan really means. I couldn't tell if he was wearing Dolphins' socks.

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After last week's UGA game, I dropped in at the Athens' Bear Hollow zoo to check in with the zoo's resident Bald Eagle, Amazon. Because of a wing injury, she can't fly. Therefore, she spends most of her time limping around her enclosure and glaring at the other animals and visitors. I totally respect that.

To be expected on a pretty Saturday afternoon, we weren't alone at the zoo. A boisterous crowd of youths were shouting, laughing, and generally disturbing the peace of the late afternoon at the zoo. There were also several zoo workers having a conversation as they began the process of closing the park for the day.

Zookeeper 1: "Individually, they are probably passive and easy to work with. But let them get together and they're just like any other pack. They'll follow the alpha and make a lot of noise marking their territory."

Zookeeper 2: "That just makes them typical teenagers."

Somewhere behind me, Amazon shook her cane in the air at those damn kids on her lawn.

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In the past eight days, I've been to four football games, 1 high school, 2 college, and 1 professional. I sure do enjoy football season. If nothing else, it gets me out of the house.

I accompanied Trey to the Atlanta Falcons' prime-time home opener against the Philadelphia Eagles yesterday in a game that ended just before midnight. It was a fantastic game featuring a bunch of turnovers, big plays, and lead changes, and I'm quite pleased that I had the opportunity to go.

It was unclear who was better represented among the fan-worn jerseys in the stadium: current Falcons QB Matt Ryan or former Falcons QB Michael Vick. Ryan outplayed Vick in the game, if for no other reason than Vick's 3 turnovers. Vick didn't even finish the game, suffering a concussion late in the 3rd quarter and being booed off the field by the ever-classy Altanta fans.

It would have only been better if the Dolphins hadn't lost their game earlier in the day, making it look increasingly like another terrible season is in the making. True story: waiting to use a urinal at the Georgia Dome, I was the only person wearing a Miami Dolphins t-shirt in a long line of people clad in Eagles and Falcons apparel. Finally, I reached the front of the line and prepared to relieve myself. Immediately the fellow behind me loudly sighed and said, "we're going to be here awhile. The guy in up here is wearing a Dolphins shirt, and we all know they're slow starters." Smart ass.

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If you didn't know that assists, rebounds, and free throws were basketball statistics, this article from the sports section of my local Newnan Times-Herald (page 7, Dec. 9, 2009) newspaper would be really confusing.

Scratch that. It's really confusing anyway.

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The Atlanta Falcons played like dogs this Sunday, so it was fitting that Michael Vick returned to town to put them out of their misery.

Michael Vick had predicted that he would receive a standing ovation on his first return home to the Georgia Dome following his eviction due to federal conviction as a canine killer. He pretty much got what he expected. Never have I attended a sporting event that was quite so much a love letter to a single person, an event where a player was indeed bigger than the game, but that was what happened. Very few, it seemed, came for the game. (This was a good thing, as there wasn't one played, at least not by the Falcons.) Everyone was there for number 7. And to his credit as an athlete and entertainer, he gave us what we came to see. Most Falcons fans had justifiably fled by late in the third quarter, leaving only Eagles and Vick fans, whose chants of "Put in Vick" were answered as Vick drove the Eagles down the field for another touchdown. Then everyone went home.

I'd be lying if I said that I didn't take some vengeful enjoyment in watching the prodigal Vick return to Atlanta with the Eagles and pull the wings off the injured Falcons, 34-7. (Atlanta's lone touchdown couldn't have been less relevant, scored as time expired in the game against a third-string Eagles defense.) I figure the Falcons deserved the punishment it after the ingracious way that they treated the Dolphins in the season opener. So I ask, Falcons, how did you like them apples, because I thought they tasted pretty sweet.

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I think I'll be selling my Super Bowl tickets.

When the post-season started, the Dolphins, Eagles, and Giants were all in the mix. That was 1/4 of all the teams! Then, in the Wildcard round, the Dolphins lost pitifully to the Ravens. But that's okay, as the next week, our chosen teams still made up 1/4 of the number remaining in the Divisional round. Unfortunately, they had to play each other, eliminating the Giants, who had been favored to go all the way as defending champs! But come the NFC Championship, the Eagles still counted as 1/4 of the 4 teams remaining in the playoffs! Until they lost to the Arizona Cardinals, a CInderella team that will watch woefully as the clock strikes midnight on them at some point during their Super Bowl confrontation with the Pittsburgh Steelers in two weeks.

I suppose that it was impossible to have 1/4 of our teams in the final game, but that's not a fun lesson in math by any account.

Anyway, I can't get up to watch an Arizona Cardnials game. While I'm quite fine with watching the Steelers, they happen to be playing the Cardinals. >ugh<. The Cardinals haven't played a game I've enjoyed watching all season, and I'm sure that the Super Bowl will be no exception.

I hate you, Kurt Warner.

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Football season is now fully underway.

The Bulldogs ran up their record to 2-0 against a surprisingly competent Central Michigan yesterday. It appears that they worked out all of the lingering kinks from week one: the "B" was painted the right color, the flag was fixed, and they even moved the "SEC" logos to the 25 yard lines -- someone must have worked overtime this week!

CMU played well in a 56-17 defeat, but were clearly overmatched for size, strength, and depth of talent. Besides, the Dogs played like they had a chip on their shoulder following last week's drop in the polls. Knowshon Moreno in particular looked fantastic, punctuating the day with a Superman-sized leap over a standing CMU defender during a long run in the third. (See for yourself here.) It certainly justifies all the fans wearing the "He Is (the) Man" (as in "Heisman Trophy") shirts featuring the letter "K" in the familiar Superman diamond.

Note: Before the game, I lamented to my brother that unlike our previous opponent, the Georgia Southern Eagles, the Central Michigan Chippewas did not parade a live version of their mascot around the field on a leash before the game.

Unfortunately, the start of NFL play found the Dolphins participating in more of the same from last year. I'm pretty sure that right now, in a head-to-head matchup, the Dawgs would win. You'll be pleased to note, loyal readers, that the downfall of the Dolphins was Chad Pennington's weak arm. As disappointed as I was by the loss, I'm always filled with a warm happiness when my predictions of doom and gloom turn out to be right on the money.

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I just returned from Philadelphia, where my brother and I watched the Philadelphia Eagles defeat the Miami Dolphins. Despite the scattered rain, bitter cold, and Dolphins' tenth loss of the season (0 for 10: we're still prefect!), I had a great time.

Philadelphia fans have a reputation as real assholes. And I can now tell you first hand that everything that you hear about them is all true. Though most of the fans were good natured before and during the game (a father pointed me out to his toddler as "the enemy," the security guard frisking me upon entering harassed me for wearing Dolphins' gear to the game, and the attendant who announced the discontinuation of alcohol service at halftime urged the crowd to yell at me instead of her), by the fourth quarter, with the Eagles' firmly in control of the game, the fans had worked up enough courage to devolve into a surly bunch of jerks. One fellow continued to taunt me until the final second ticked off the clock for supporting a "bunch of losers," and another that I encountered in line for the bathroom told me that "the Dolphins' fucking suck" and he hoped that I personally would die a slow and painful death.

My brother repeatedly pointed out that insulting me for being a Dolphins' fan during this winless season was the equivalent of abusing a helpless puppy. Well, now I know how Philadelphians treat puppies: they must be Michael Vick fans.

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