With all due respect to the late Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., and acknowledging his "I've got a dream" speech encompassed all mankind, I nevertheless reserve the right to have my own sports related dreams, as insignificant as they may be by comparison.
I dream someday my grandchildren will live long enough to see the Lions win the Super Bowl and the Chicago Cubs win the World Series. None have been born yet.
I dream someday either Serena or Venus Williams, after losing a tennis match, won't blame it on cramps, injury, illness, bad calls, solar flares, global warming, or whatever other excuse they can think of, and just say, "I got beat, fair and square."
I dream for more sports owners like the Pistons' late Bill Davidson -- limelight avoiding rich people that use their own money to build a stadium or arena, rather than hammering the taxpayers, put it in a place where hundreds of innocents don't get thrown out of their homes through "eminent domain", and not only show up for the games, but seat themselves down where the action is, amongst the "common folks", instead of in a luxury suite. I salute you Mr. D. Rest well.
I dream Joe Dumars finds his way out of the current sorry mess the Pistons have become, from uncertain ownership, to former in-house guru Tom Wilson bailing for greener pastures, all the way down to a pretty lousy team on the court. He's a class guy and has earned a break.
I dream Mike Ilitch or his heirs will take a time out from mega-buck corporate business ventures, and remember how they got there in the first place. Howsabout a little more cheese and pepperoni and a little less crust?
I dream Danica Patrick finally makes it to the Sprint Cup series of NASCAR, then throws another one of her hissy fits, and gets up in the face of one of the hot-headed young drivers now occupying that circuit On or off the track -- that might get interesting.
I dream of what might have happened had the Ford family written Bill Parcells a blank check, and given him full authority over all football operations when he was available a few years back, and still had the fire within.
Of what the all-time rushing record would be if Barry Sanders had hung around a few more years.
Of Pete Rose getting his rightful spot in the Hall of Fame while he's still alive.
Of Ernie Harwell finally being able to chat with all the baseball greats that came before his time.
Of Steve Repko being in the same room.
Of sports agents and general managers settling contract disputes in the "octagon".
Of medium-rare prime rib at... Oops. Scratch that. This is supposed to be about sports. Sorry.
Of Manny and Floyd getting it on.
Of the Cowboy cheerleaders getting it off.
Of Barry Bonds and Roger Clemens being hooked up to a polygraph, and the results mattering.
Of another team from another city bringing as much joy to their fans as the Saints did last year.
Time out. Reality check.
I have little doubt there will be times when I'm fresh out of rants. Please feel free to suggest a topic -- if you don't mind entrusting a maniac, bwahaha, to elaborate on it.
And if you get a minute Martin, I'd sure appreciate it if you could round up John, Bobby, and Abe to give me a little pep talk. Bringing along that light bulb guy from Menlo Park couldn't hurt either. Now HE had ideas.
I dream they, and you, help me out.