Sports Illustrated has stopped sending me a magazine every week and I’m not sure how I feel about it.

On the surface, of course I hate it. How could they do such a thing! I’ve been getting SI for every week for decades and now you send me something new about as often as I get a new Pottery Barn catalog? (Don’t ask.)

Yes, this should stink out loud. When you sign up for a weekly magazine, it should arrive, well … weekly. Every seven days (or so.)

Actually, I’m not so torqued up about this. I got the notice and thought This might not be such a bad thing.

Here’s why. I looked in every crevasse of my mancave and discovered dozens of unfinished Sports Illustrateds. And I mean dozens. There’s an NBA Midseason Report  … from three years ago. I don’t think I’ve finished a weekly Sports Illustrated during the week of publication since the invention of the swimsuit model.

Whenever a vacation comes along and I’ve got free time via transportation, I always think it would be a great opportunity to knock out 4 or 5 of them right there in the back of someone’s vehicle. I brought 8 to the beach last year. You know how many I read? One.

Yet I can’t bring myself to throw them away. I read the comments about the articles from previous weeks and realize that I have got to go back and read that story. But I never do.

So they keep piling up by my chair. By the golf bag. Under the sofa. Most of all, inside the little magazine holder thingy that it apparently bottomless.

SI gave us a mumbo jumbo about “changing landscape” and “new model,” but I’m still going to see how they are going to get me to read about the U.S. Open 10 days after its over with.

But maybe with two weeks to read just one, I can make a dent in this literary junkyard I have going on.