In 15 years I will be 34 years old. If all goes well, this is what I'll be doing.
6:00am: Wake Up.
I like the mornings, so I think six would be a good time. I'll get out of bed and head downstairs to cook up some breakfast. On the way downstairs I'll probably trip on a toy or a blanket or something left on the staircase by one of my kids (I don't really want to guess how many I'll have at this point, But I would like to have a big family). I'll think about cussing, but I'll probably just do it in my head to lessen the guilt and to not risk having to explain to my wife how my tape-recorder of a son or daughter learned a new word.
I'll make it to the kitchen eventually, and cook up some tasty breakfast tacos....yummmmm. I might even share the meal with my wife and kids...but I'm not certain. That's love folks.
6:10am: Sportscenter.
Its a beautiful thing. Watch the highlights, catch some breaking news, debate with analysts who can't hear me. Maybe even yell at the TV a little bit depending on what's going on. This is how I will wake up the rest of my family. Most children wake to alarm clocks or their parents gently rocking them awake. Mine will wake to the sound of their father (who will probably still be in his boxers as he sits on the couch...on a good day) yelling plays, insults, "suggestions", and other sports related jargon at the people in the television who can't hear him through the cameras and time difference...And they will love me for it.
7:00am: Get dressed.
Only because I have to. But hey, at the rate the world is going, briefs might be acceptable as "Business Casual", however if that's the case I will have to blow all my vacation time calling in sick every "Casual Friday"(see episode of "The Office" of the same title). I will then utilize my never ending water heater. I love warm showers. For washing, relaxing, singing, and pondering. During the winter I like taking long showers just because its really really warm, and tile showers have sick acoustics. Anyways, I will take as long of a shower as I want. This is starting to feel a little awkward.
8:00am: Work.
I pull up to the radio station in my car (I don't really care what, just something better than "Big Bertha"), just in time to start my mid morning sports talk radio show at KVET Austin. Where I provide in depth "unbiased" analysis on UT Sports. I'll talk about games I'm slotted to call that weekend, and just get my sports geek on. It would be chill.
12:00pm: Lunch Time:
MMMMMMMMMMMmmmmmmmmmmm. I love lunch time. Where I eat my lunch will vary. If I have little kids and my wife is a stay at home mom, then I would enjoy going home for lunch. If my wife works, then I would like to go eat lunch with her. I wouldn't mind an occasional lunch-interview with Steve Young, or Tim Lincecum, or maybe even hang with Colin Cowherd or Michael Wilbon every now and then. But I think it would be cool to eat lunch with my wife.
1:00pm. Work
Now I prep for a game that upcoming weekend. I need to memorize the names and jersey numbers of every player on the Phoenix Sun's roster in preparation for calling the Spurs game that weekend. I also need to find every bad stat for the Longhorns in preparation for calling their game against USC that Saturday...Like I said, unbiased.
5:00pm. After a few phone interviews with various shows on ESPN, I get back into my car and drive home. Where is home? Somewhere in Central Texas. Somewhere in the hills with pine trees. Maybe even Bastrop, who knows?
I drive up to my house (a mid-nineteenth to early-twentieth century house with a wrap around porch and a lake out back) and walk in the door to be bombarded at the knees by little Herzogs (or, if they take after their dad, I'll be getting bombarded by a couple of 6-foot, 195 lb six-year-olds at the door). I'll take in the hyper kids, and early-evening chaos that I remember so fondly from my childhood much like a soldier adjusts to the shell-shock from an artillery bombardment on the shores of some god-forsaken beach (this is nothing against my future wife, any children with my genes will generate chaos no matter the effort their mom puts in).
After the adjustment is complete, everyone has been hugged and hello-ed, and I take in the damages the little Loganzo's have caused, I go about helping cook dinner, doing dishes (yes I would do the dishes because I will be too excited NOT to use my actual functioning dishwasher after a childhood of manual labor.) bathing the kids, and putting them to bed. I talk with my wife about how our day went
(about my future wife, I'll leave out gushy, cheesy imaginations about how she will be, I just know she will be pretty awesome.) and maybe watch a movie I got from NetFlix.(gosh I can't put my love for NetFlix into words.)
I'll agree to watch a chick-flick with her if she promises to watch part of the game I will be calling that weekend.
(Also about my wife: I want to marry someone who like sports enough to root passionately for a team once or twice a year at a game-watching party. Outside of that there are no requirements.)
8:30: De-pressurization.
I go into my home studio and just jam. I work on some new songs, maybe play some tunes for my rockin' awesome wife, and get ready to lay down some tracks for my band's new CD (and ensuing tour in support of said CD. I'm kind of a little stressed at this point because I'm still waiting on my leave-of-absence to be OK-ed). Its my perfect get-a-way.
10:00pm: Sportscenter.
I catch any latest news, final scores, highlights, and just make sure I'm still in the loop. This session is not nearly as long as my morning time (and involves a lot less yelling.) I make sure the games have been DVR-ed so I can go over them tomorrow. And then I go to bed.
I am now going to take a lesson from my future self and go to sleep.
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