THE CHEAP SEATS with STEVE CAMERON: Grumpy about the sports I love ... now get off my lawn!

Yeah, there’s a bit of old coot howling at the moon here, but …

I’m grumpy.

Partly, it’s about the result of yet another procedure done on my back, which the docs claim was reasonably successful.

Maybe the medical profession’s definition of “reasonably” is a little different from mine.

To keep it short, I’m so stiff and shot through with pain when I wake up each morning, it feels as though I got hit with an electrical charge during the night.

In other words, to play golf (yes, that was one of the surgical goals) or even to work on my laptop, I need about an hour of prep time before I can limp to the kitchen.

That’s just to fix some oatmeal and feed Addison The World’s Second-Greatest Cat.

I WROTE the word “grumpy.”

I went to bed last night, trying to think of a more accurate analogy to describe how I feel, and woke up in the same state … mentally as well as physically.

Besides that reference to howling at the moon, I remember another line about old men yelling at the world to get off their lawns.

That works just as well.

The point here is that a lot of things in sports — the everyday items on which I’m charged with sharing opinions — have often become downright annoying.

And worse, they’re damaging the games, events and competitions that once were far simpler to understand.

Let’s start with football, which has turned into a Punt, Pass and Kick contest.

Remember those things, when little kids threw and booted balls great distances, and then the winners would be honored at halftime of an NFL game?

The sport obviously has gotten more complicated, since some clubs have about 25 assistant coaches.

What do all those people DO?

They don’t keep track of timeouts and ticks remaining on the clock, certainly.

Every week, there is more chaos as a team goes to full panic, botches the plan, and…

“Should we call time now?”

There are 25 different opinions being yelled into headsets.

BASEBALL, well, we’re going to need an entire column to address the issues in our national pastime.

As the labor dispute between MLB and players union made perfectly clear, no one agrees on anything.

Um, except that catchers now can wear devices that suggest to pitchers, in real time, what to throw.

“Can you get a curve over the plate, dipstick?”

The only other things that each side in that labor battle got into our heads was that at least dozens things need to be fixed.

In the meantime, almost no one truly can hit.

You know, make an art of hitting the baseball.

Today’s batters are trying match exit velocity with launch angle, hoping to hit a 475-foot home run.

Of course, pitchers know that and, instead of a mammoth blast, ol’ Casey at the Bat winds up messing thousands of fans’ hairstyles with a mighty (and useless) whiff at the air.

I’m waiting for someone to swing and miss, only to discover that the pitcher has thrown the rosin bag up toward plate.

Several would-be power hitters (guys hitting .135) have taken almighty cuts at passing butterflies.

Oh, yeah …

We’d need a lot more time to discuss the problems in baseball.

TODAY, though, the sport that has sent my blood pressure through the roof is basketball.

I was already prepared to stand and scream during a game in which the two teams had combined to hit three or four 3-pointers — out of 65 tries.

The game has turned into dunks and 3-balls from somewhere out on Concourse D.

I ALREADY loathed the 3-pointer, the lack of decent passing and defense at every level, and so on.

But now … ?

Now???

How about the transfer portal, where you play a game, go through a courtesy handshake line afterward, and the opposing coach gives you his card and says, “Text me, son. I think you could fit in at shooting guard for us.”
The notion of sitting out a year in order to change schools made transfers difficult (as they should be) and forced a player, his agent and his shoe company into serious thought.

YOU WERE not allowed to just pack up and go, then suit up for another team next week.

Kansas, the team that eventually won the national championship, competed against three different players who were with the Jayhawks the previous year.

No problem, though, because KU had plenty of transfers itself – including Remy Martin from Arizona State.

In the midst of all these transfers, we now have legal payments to players — piles of cash from boosters who own car dealerships or casinos.

Sorry, but it’s all giving me a headache.

I hope you’re ready for pre-game player introductions, where Drew Timme trots out and says …

“Get fresh avocados at Big Bill’s natural fruit stand, downtown Coeur d’Alene. Midweek specials!! Go Zags!!”

Oh, and …

Never mind the NBA.

If I’m understanding correctly, Zion Williamson is not healthy enough to play for the New Orleans Pelicans (knee, foot, shoulder, transmission, right front headlight), but he’s just fine to put on dunking exhibitions for his fans.

Maybe he could just do one-man shows.

Play Carnegie Hall.

Good grief!

Still wonder why I’m grumpy?

Email: [email protected]

Steve Cameron’s “Cheap Seats” columns appear in The Press on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. He also writes Zags Tracker, a commentary on Gonzaga basketball which is published monthly during the offseason.

Steve suggests you take his opinions in the spirit of a Jimmy Buffett song: “Breathe In, Breathe Out, Move On.”