“Things have been going so great, that someone actually had to remind us that ‘Hey, you do remember those papers are still there.’ Literally, it was days ago,” Shaunie O’Neal said. “So, we’ve agreed that before we leave Florida in a few days we’ll make sure that that’s gone away.”

Maybe they got some type of spirtual counseling, maybe they realized they love each other more than their “irreconcilable differences.”

Or maybe, somebody told Shaq how divorce tastes.

Whatever the case may be, you can only hope the kids are happier, whatever issues were present dissipate, and that Shaq is motivated to score more than 12 points per game next season.

You have to forgive my bitterness on this issue. Today is my first wedding anniversary. It’s interesting because the same physiological changes I went through on my wedding day are the same one’s I’m going through today. Minus the excessive sweating.

I’m so blessed. I’m so happy. I’m so thrilled to be with such a good woman, that it’s hard to contain in my spirit, let alone communicate through words. And yet, everywhere I turn on my Google reader, there’s some kind of report about Alex Rodriguez’ divorce.

Dude makes more money in a year then I’ll me, my children and my grand-children will see in a lifetime. Women all over the world love this guy, probably even more that he’s broken up with his wife and is banging Madonna. I’m certain he’ll recover, just like every other celebrity and athlete who thinks side tail is the best tail.

Truth is, I’m insanely jealous. I’m in a relationship that should be the hot topic of every talk show, radio call-in and magazine, because unlike 50 percent of the marriages out there, ours works. Are we perfect? Hell no. Do we fuss and fight? Of course. Do we have a lot of work to do? Absolutely.

But we cherish all of that, and commit to all of that. So much of the world’s attention is dedicated to what goes wrong in marriages, and the dirt that flies when they are over. But I won’t get buried in it. I’m on Cloud 9 looking down at the muck and mire that marriage has become in our society.

So, good luck to Alex Rodriguez and his family, but please excuse me for enjoying something much more interesting than his crumbling relationship – then extension and celebration of my own.

While I can’t wait to put the ring on I’ve had some resoundingly bad conversations over the last couple of months. Golf may have an uncountable list of ethics, though bothering a complete stranger about getting married is not one of them. First of all, I’m excited for the big day, so please don’t feel sorry for me because marriage
sucks for you. No, I’m not nervous, I don’t want any marriage advice, and yes Christy’s mom is still hot.

Consider my attempt at cornering the young married man’s blogging niche GONE.

Does it suck? Of course. But is it important? Absolutely.

After all, the Spurs and the Lakers have seven games to get it right. Cook and Archuleta have this one night. But in both circumstances, the magic of Comcast DVR perfects the art of the marital compromise.

As long as the Lakers play it out like David Cook, I have no beef.

Luckily, my wife loves basketball as much as I do, and went to a school that made the tournament. I won’t embarrass her by mentioning which school, but its in Philadelphia. You figure out the rest.

I would hope that even if some wives weren’t down with sports as much as their husbands are, they would understand that March Madness is a unique kind of event. It’s not the NBA playoffs, where series tend to drag out the long-awaited outcome, and it’s not the NFL, where only a hand full of teams make it. This is about 65 teams from all over the country, vying for an opportunity to show the world what they are made of. It doesn’t matter that they will probably get blown out of the gym, it’s all about making the big dance.

In many ways, a strong relationship can be further strengthened through sports. Although our recent trip out of town wasn’t the best we’ve ever taken, each of the bright sports revolved around watching tournament games. Sports can make the knot tighter on strong bonds, or create new ones that you never knew. My wife doesn’t know one person that plays for a team not named Morgan State, but she knows the difference between a 2-3 and a 3-2, and why the coach shouldn’t be calling for one or the other.

I can appreciate that in her, and hopefully, she appreciates the fact that I attempt to break it all down for her.

I brought home a bracket for her and I to fill out to see who would pick the most games. Of course she had no interest whatsoever in doing so, but she will be down to spend long Thursday nights and Saturdays watching the recaps. Now that’s a marriage, in all of its madness.

I have to admit, prior to the information coming out about the New England Patriots possibly cheating as far back as 2002, I wanted to see the Patriots go undefeated on the season. Partially because its a once in a lifetime occurrence, but moreso for Mercury Morris to shut the hell up.

Needless to say, it caused a bit of division in our household. My wife was convinced that I was being oppositional and wanted to see the Patriots win just to irk her. She couldn’t understand that I am a football fan, and as such want to see good football lead to reward. At the time, I was under the impression that the Pats had only cheated once, got caught, and paid a penalty. I didn’t see a reason to hold a day of cheating against a team that went out and executed every Sunday thereafter.

I felt bad that my wife thought I condoned cheating, but I held strong until the news came out about the past transgressions. Needless to say, that landed me right into that familiar “Why don’t you ever listen to me??” trap. I hate that trap, and ironically enough, the only way out of it is to sit and listen to her lament about how I never listen to her.

As you know, it turned out all right. We spent the Super Bowl cheering on the Giants, and were rewarded handsomely. Cheaters didn’t prosper, and she didn’t mention not listening to her ever again.

Until yesterday, as we were watching PTI.