Look at us, all shiny and new

Throughout my tenure in life, I have learned a lot of things. I've learned algebra I'll never use; I've learned not to freeze lettuce; I've learned that mustard on sandwiches is always disappointing. I've learned that you should work like you don't need the money. You should love like you've never been hurt. You should dance like no one's watching. You should shit like no one is sitting in that stall next to you.

I've learned these things, and I'm better for it. I've learned that you should chase your dreams, no matter the odds against you.

I'm getting older, you know. There isn't the same spring in my step, or my pants. My time here on this Earth may be waning. I haven't taken very good care of myself in this life -- too many ill-fated decisions in my teens, 20s, 30s, 40s, 50s and 60s have done a lot to take a toll on my body. My hair is falling out. My beard grows more gray by the day. I get a lot of nosebleeds sometimes.

So I've decided to go for it, one last time. There have been many failed ventures in my life. My startup hummus company, my Formula 1 racing team and Capital Funding Management Decisions Integrated Strategy Incorporated folded like Rex Grossman under a mediocre pass rush.

Ahh, yes. A lame, topical sports reference. That, folks, is why we're here. This is my last gasp. One last chance to make it big. I've rounded up some of my closest friends, along with a few people I can't stand (Hi, Burt), and we'll bring you sports information and opinions. Again. From the ashes, we rise. We stand. We deliver. Much like Tom Brady with four full seconds of pocket protection.

Christ, I'm rusty. I sound like Woody Paige.

Regardless. We're back. Sit down, grab a drink. Stick around a while while we shake off the rust. It's Flotsam, Part II. And we'll still tell you what to think.