The process was gradual. It did not happen overnight and it cannot be pinned on a specific Stephen A. Smith rant. However, after more than three years of deteriorating programming, ESPN has successfully alienated one of the world’s biggest sports fans from its network of television stations.

I think everyone should get to enjoy playing in a band at least once. And by band, I mean many things. You don’t have to rock a guitar in a pseudo-punk garage group (or whatever) to have a kick ass time. You can play in a marching band, an orchestra, a jazz band, do something crazy new-age with sound boards, or bring back the didgeridoo.

In high school, I was a total band geek. I even had the stereotypical head gear — though, thankfully, my orthodontist (Dr. Hand) only required that I wear it at night. I played trombone in the wind ensemble and jazz band throughout high school and, I have to say, it was a lot of fun. I miss it now.

I’ve always had — and always will have — a special spot in my heart for Limp Bizkit. Please, allow me to explain myself.

I would venture to say I have a pretty broad musical palette. Though some would challenge my claims of good taste — Sun Senior Editor Sammy Perlmutter ’10 discovered six months ago that I like Gym Class Heroes, and he still won’t talk to me — I feel comfortable suggesting I have a fairly respectable collection of songs on my iPod. Genres like indie and hip-hop appear in spades, along with some more accessible examples of electronic and experimental brands of music. Whether you have a hankering for Dem Franchize Boys or Suburban Kids With Biblical Names, I can probably find a song that you would be at least decently satisfied with.

First, I would like to express my excitement for the wonderful month of October. If you aren’t as excited as I am, I’d like to bring up a few things that just might persuade you to share my feelings: Fall Break, Sweater/blazer weather (well at least in New York) and a holiday that might be the most entertaining of the year, Halloween. So to give you a helping hand from a faraway place, let us address these October occurrences and how you can look your best.

A couple of years ago, when my friends and I would sit in my backyard, attempting to partake in illicit activities, my brother would come over and regale us with predictions of the impending apocalypse. I would get more than mildly embarrassed and demand that he leave. He would then begin to give Jon and Tim tips on how to “spit game” and try to demonstrate on Sarah.

Joke’s over, God. Really, it’s not funny any more. Frankly, it’s a little mean. And it pisses me off.

Making the Cubs lose like that was just unfair. I’m not even kidding. I can take being upset. I can take hurt. But I can’t take the arbitrary punishment any more. Apparently, you like kicking people while they’re down, abusing those who wouldn’t even fight back in the first place.

I don’t even know how to deal with a team like the 2008 Cubs getting knocked out of the playoffs like that. I waited for the lump to rise up in my throat; waited for the desire to curl up in the fetal position and feel sorry for myself, feel sorry for the Cubs.

But all I felt was clench-your-fists, purse-your-lips anger. I was livid.

Unless you have personally received a 700-billion dollar bailout — and while you are waiting for Wall Street’s bailout to “trickle down” — you (and I) should probably not be buying very many new clothing items. So, as promised, here is a new way to wear pants you already have: tight-rolling.

When I say new, I don’t actually mean new; not to quash your nascent fashion creativity, which I hope this column is fostering but, as they say, everything old is new. And in this case, we’re talking ’80s-excellence old. This cuffing technique is also called a French roll, farmer roll, pegged leg and who knows what else, and is probably best associated with another ’80s favorite: acid-wash jeans.

Last week, the New York Yankees re-signed their General Manager Brian Cashman to a new three-year contract. And, just like that, my dreams of being the New York Yankees GM vanished into thin air. If Cashman had not gotten that extension, I was poised to assume control of the player personnel decisions for the 26-time World Champion Yankees. Here’s what might have been a typical day if I were at the helm of the New York Yankees:

6:30 a.m. – I hit the snooze button; only suckers get up before seven.

I have a confession to make. I haven’t watched a movie in over two weeks.

“Dear me,” you might be thinking. “What an irresponsible film columnist this Ted (Tad?) Hamilton is.” But my dereliction of duty is not the biggest problem that this recent drought indicates. No — the matter at hand is far more serious, touching on the very essence of film itself.

You see, film-viewing seems to share a direct correlation with free time. The reason I haven’t been keeping up with my Netflix queue is the fact that I’ve been very busy: schoolwork, the paper, bartending, etc. — and it’s all added up to squeeze extra hours from my schedule and leave me with little chance for relaxation.

There are three freshmen on the women’s soccer team — forward Brook Chang and midfielders Abigail Apistolas and Kelsey MacDonald — who don’t seem to have much in common when you first take a look at their playing styles.

“The three of them are very different players,” said head coach Danielle LaRoche. “Brook is an attacking minded player. She loves to go at defenders. She loves to take them one-to-one. She is a natural goal-scorer.”