The first thing you might notice about this week's column is that it is accompanied by a picture of me eating a hot dog sans bun.

It's not because I'm on the no-carb diet or anything -- the picture was just taken at a party where we ran out of buns but still had plenty of hot dogs left. I don't know why I went corn-on-the-cob style with the dog, but I did and I'm not about to start second-guessing myself now.

Perhaps a better question is why is this picture running with my column?

There's no real good answer to that one, but I'll try to explain.

Just before I sat down to write this, I found on my bed an envelope containing about 10 pictures. I have no idea how it got there.

I think it's possible that this is a sign from a higher power that these pictures are supposed to be published.

Plus it gives me a few good things to talk about this week -- pictures, hot dogs and baseball. (Hot dogs and baseball go together, so there's a natural connection there).

So, starting with pictures, here are my thoughts -- I like pictures.

Because my family was huge into cameras while I was growing up (both regular and video cameras) I decided at a young age that I didn't want to be a "camera guy." So I've never owned one, and now the only pictures I have are gifts from friends or family. It's a little sad.

I thought my memory was good enough that I didn't need pictures to remember all the good times, but as I get older I realize that's just not true.

So I think I might have to get a camera before too long. Maybe I'll start shooting random pictures of people eating hot dogs in Sandusky, and I'll publish those.

It's a plan.

Speaking of hot dogs, here are my thoughts -- I like hot dogs.

I think ketchup and mustard really do a hot dog justice, but I'm not a big fan of all the other junk people put on there, like sauerkraut and onions. Even chili and cheese are no good on hot dogs, which is odd because I like chili and I think cheese is good on absolutely everything. Even some fruit.

Every year on baseball's Opening Day, I try to eat at least six hot dogs. It's a nice little tradition. I take the day off work -- as do many of my friends -- and I sit home and watch baseball all day while eating hot dogs.

If you've never done this before, I highly suggest giving it a try this year. Opening Day is April 2. Tell your boss you're not going to be there and then go pick up a nice pack of dogs and invite over as many friends as you think will come. (If it's zero, that's still OK -- I've had to do this alone on several occasions).

This past weekend I attended my annual fantasy baseball draft in Columbus. It was a good time. My high school and college friends from all over the state got together and we drafted our teams.

Recently I've been pretty good at fantasy baseball, which is nice because I was never very good at real baseball (those stupid curve balls killed me. And I didn't like fastballs very much either).

The weekend did contain one bad moment. My best friend from college -- and my former roommate of four years -- slapped me in the chest as hard as he possibly could at one point Saturday night. It's now Sunday, and I've had a little trouble getting deep breaths all day, and I'm pretty sure I have a bruised sternum, or at least something to that effect.

It's partially my fault. When I'm drinking a little and having a good time, I can get a little slappy.

So we were playing some Golden Tee at a bar after the draft was over, and I slapped my friend on the chest in reaction to one of his shots. It wasn't an extremely hard slap, but probably harder than it should have been.

Well, he had a few drinks in him as well, and he got mad at me -- he hates the slaps. So I said he could slap me in the chest as payback.

He took a few steps back, wound up, got his running start and then just nailed me. Everyone who saw it was amazed how intense it was. I'm actually surprised I didn't break his hand -- I'm pretty ripped. My chest is kind of like a brick wall.

But, anyway. he apologized the next day, then I apologized for slapping him to begin with, and we're all good. All of us except my sternum.

I thought about naming my fantasy team the Bruised Sternums as a result of all this, but instead I opted for the team name Hungry, Hungry Hippos.

Anyone remember playing that board game? I loved that game. We still have it at my parents' house.

The next time there's a big Funcoast.com event, I'll see if I can borrow it from the 'rents and get a tourney going or something.

POWELL'S PICKS

SPEND ST. PATRICK'S DAY WITH US
We'll be going out and shooting photos all day March 17 at Daly's, Cabana Jack's, Shifter's, Jumpin' Jupiter and more places. I promise I'll do at least an Irish jig or two before the night is over.

SEE ECHO FORTE, 9:30 p.m., March 16 at Kiley's in Monroeville.
This band's name is very similar to Joe Forte, a guard who played for North Carolina not too long ago. It's March Madness time!

BUY THE REGINA SPEKTOR ALBUM "BEGIN TO HOPE," available at all major music stores.
I just bought this album. It's incredible. It's kind of pop piano with a lot of influences, from classical to old-school jazz to punk rock. One of the best albums I've bought in awhile.

WATCH THE BUCKEYES BEGIN TOURNEY PLAY at 7 p.m. Thursday and then - hopefully - again on Saturday.
Greg Oden and Mike Conley Jr. keep making me happy. Seriously, we need to get them up to Sandusky sometime for a party. Maybe play some Hungry, Hungry Hippos. And if you're willing to drive a little ...

NINTH ANNUAL ST. PATTY'S DAY BASH, Friday, March 16 at Erie Street Market in Toledo.
Entertainment provided by Spoony Love, Novada and Johnny Rocker and the Hitmen. Early admission is free and $5 after 6 p.m. The event will go from 4 p.m. until 1 a.m.

E-mail me at editor@funcoast.com. Or just call my cell phone at 1-800-HOT-DOGS.