The Indoorsman -- Brickbats and bouquets for Tim

I talked to my younger brother for a couple of minutes during the Boise State game Monday, which meant that we talked about football, which meant that we (as we tend to) compared our own high school football resumes.

We're not competitive like we used to be. But that's more a function of distance than any dimming of brotherly rivalry. (He lives in Illinois, by the way, which is a state for jerks and nowhere near as cool a place to live as Washington.) He called because he'd taken exception to my assertion, via the Internet Facebook machine, that he cannot throw a spiral. Spoiler alert: He can, just not a really good one. That's beside the point anyway. I was just talking a little brotherly smack. And, while he was a fine high school defensive back and did play a couple of years of small-college ball, Tim was never exactly Joe Namath. He was more like Phil Namath -- Joe's awkward brother. (Indoorsman's note: Joe Namath does not have an awkward brother named Phil Namath; I just made that part up.)

The problem with that line of criticism coming from me? I'm throwing spirals in a glass house. That is to say, my own football career was no more accomplished than his. We were both decent players on lousy high school teams. Both of us were captain of the team his senior year, mine going 2-7, his a robust 0-9. I made all-division; he didn't. He played in college; I didn't. There's no clear-cut bragging-rights winner, which is probably why we still debate the issue now.

I will say this for Tim, who regular Indoorsman readers may recall narrowly beat me last summer in a foot race after our sister's wedding: The wobbliness of his mid- to long-range passes notwithstanding, he excels at just about everything he does. I had to stop playing him at tennis and racquetball because it got to the point where I just didn't have a chance. And, it's best not to even talk about the last time we played basketball. It's not just sports, either. I taught him to play Scrabble a couple of years ago, and by the second game he was winning.

He's taller than I am. He's in better shape. He's at least as funny, and he's a nicer guy than I am. He's also a doctor of zoology, with publications in the scientific journals, a tenure-track professor gig and everything. He's got his own house, a lovely, charming wife and a healthy, happy young son.

The nice thing is that, that stuff -- the important stuff -- we're not competitive about that at all. We root for each other on that stuff. So I'm not trying to keep up with him there; I'm just happy for him. And I'm damn proud to have him as my younger brother.

Even if he never did make all-division.

-- The Indoorsman