I’m still not exactly sure how this works. The other day, for instance, I wanted to post a blog, a Q & A with Paul Loeffler, the radio voice of the Fresno State Bulldogs, a man who wrote a book about the 2008 College World Series called “Underdogs to Wonderdogs.” It’s an outstanding story of underdog-ed-ness, I guess you’d say, and at some point I will do a book review here, along with the other two books about the Fresno State championship.

The problem is, you can’t read the Q & A here, because I didn’t post it here, mostly because I posted it here … http://fresnobeehive.com/sportsbuzz/matt_james/

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I love Minnesota. I really do. But it’s a strange place. And frankly, I think it has it out for me. Minnesota has produced more of my ex-girlfriends than any other state, which doesn’t make a lot of sense, because I never really spent much time there. And the three months I actually did live in Minnesota – a lovely little town called La Crescent, in an apartment complex I almost burned down in a chicken/stove-related incident – I couldn’t get a single date. The Gopher State is cruel, and I’m not just talking about the winters or the fish recipes*. Oh, but Minnesotans, the people, are absolutely great. They will definitely dump you treat you to some good ol’ fashioned hospitality. I should know promise.

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This has been building for a week. It would be safe to say that I over-care about “The Biggest Loser” right now. I’m only slightly embarrassed about it at this point, rather than mega-embarrassed, so I will go ahead and talk about it publically. (If a blog read by 26 people qualifies as publically.)

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I met Ty Murray a few years ago at a Professional Bull Riders event. He was as rigid in person as he was on “Dancing With the Stars,” and certainly smiled a lot less. He could say I wasn’t all that charasmatic either, but I’ve always lived by the rule that it’s the burdon of the most interesting person in the room to be the most interesting person in the room. It was actually an NBC TV booth inside an arena, so I guess we were in a couple different rooms, and it was obvious he wanted to be the most ignored person in both.

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CALISTOGA, Calif. — We haven’t had a van breakdown, as my headline would imply. The vans themselves are trouble. Let me explain. Each team has two vans, with six runners in each. Today, for instance, before we’d even gotten to the starting line, we missed a turn and went 10 miles the wrong way. That’s how it is for two straight days. You’re basically lost, driving a boat on wheels with six smelly, annoyed people in it. All the while having to stop constantly to provide cheers and water and an appropriately upbeat song for your runner on the course. (Again: No course. Running on side of road.)

The back half of the van is usually car sick. The front half of the van is sick of hearing the  back half complain about it. By Sunday, you can feel the tension. Or sometimes people just scream at each other. The Relay usually starts out as the most team-oriented, feel-good event you’ve ever done, and by the end you find yourself punching someone for eating Doritos too loudly. It’s the dynamics of a marriage, condensed into one weekend.

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NAPA, Calif. — I’ve tried on several occasions to explain the Relay for Organ Donation and it always comes out sounding crazy. There could be a reason for that.

It’s a race, of course, but I’m not exactly sure how it raises money or awareness for organ donation, other than each runner pays a mandatory $50 donation. On the awareness side, I’m sure there will be several drivers who over the next two days say, “Holy crap! I about hit a bald guy on the side of the road. Did you see that, Liz? What the hell was that guy doing?! Hope he’s got his things in order.” 

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