Because we only update it once or twice a week. On a good week. But you know what? We've got lives, man. Big, hairy, beautiful lives that involve loving, and drinking, and cursing, and laughing, and screwing, and falling down, and shooting hoops on mild winter days, and getting threatened by a team of Puerto Ricans in the South Bronx because a couple changeups strayed inside and grazed their jerseys, and staring out the window and wondering when the canary of destiny is going to land on our lap so we may pet its sweet, ruffled feathers before it flies away. Sometimes, sports are our canary. Other times it's a buzzard with herpes and a paternity suit. Either way, we sit at the windowsill, patiently waiting.