Let’s start with the ambiguity of it. It doesn’t really describe what “it” is. In fact, I know what “it” is. “It” will be when the Cubs completely fall apart down the stretch. We got to see a glimpse of “it” last night. The Cubs could have ended up tied for the NL Central lead last night with a win over the Phillies. Instead they managed to only get 3 hits in a 4-1 loss. The Completely Useless By September squad is getting a head start here in July.
With this club’s history, do you really want to tempt fate with such an ominous slogan as “It’s Going to Happen?” The baseball gods have a sense of humor. The Cubs history proves that. Maybe we'll see Lou give the ball to Zambrano as he leaves a crucial game in the 8th inning ala Dusty Baker a few years ago. Who will be this year’s Bartman? Will Soriano and Ramirez knock each other out going for a short fly ball to left field? Maybe Wrigley will finally fall apart and the Cubs will be forced to play at the Cell. Whatever it may be, you can count on “it” happening to the Cubs. I would go ahead now and change the slogan to “Shit’s Gonna Happen” or a take off of Ernie Banks slogan “We’re screwed! Let’s play two.”
But my favorite part of this rallying cry is that the phrase is copyrighted. That’s fine. However, check out the font associated with the copyrighted slogan. These dumb ass Cubs fans are not even smart enough to use their own font. Check out the photo above. That’s right Red Sox fans, they’re using your font and color scheme. This in itself shows why the Cubs will always be losers.
Oh, on a side note. Rick Morrissey of the Chicago Tribune wrote an article back in May basically singing the praises of Jason Marquis and how the Cardinals fans must be sick that they lost Marquis to the Cubs. This was right after Marquis had recorded back to back wins against the Cards. No, Rick, we’re not. We know what he is and what he isn’t. For only $21 million the Cubs were able to secure a pitcher who has 2 wins and a 7.36 ERA since June. Where’s your follow up article Rick?
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Let us all now bask in the wit and wisdom of old-time wrestling heel the Iron Sheik. Not Safe For Work, Children, Or Your Ass.
When I am old and playing fantasy leagues, I'm so copying his act. (I may also have to wait until he's dead, to be safe.)
Any number of sites will be treating this passing at length, many of them better qualified to do it than me. When Walsh was in his glory, I was 3,000 miles away, wishing that my team could be like his.
Perhaps the best way to remember Walsh is to read Michael Lewis's fantastic book about football, "The Blind Side." In it, Lewis examines the chess match between Bill Parcells and Bill Walsh -- and in that chapter, you get to the point of really understanding and appreciating both men, and what they brought to coaching.
Walsh, simply, made you feel like it was OK to think about football. The way his offense worked, at its height, didn't look like a one-time gathering of world-changing talent, though of course they had that as well. It just looked like they were ahead of the game, smarter, more sophisticated.
In a time when offense looked like World War I-esque tests of wills to run it up the gut, or the same old Al Davisian deep outs and bombs, Walsh devised slants that looked like they should get their WRs killed, and yet they never did. Even when they were beating my team, it was hard to really work up a good hate on them.
His defenses were some of the most underrated in NFL history. His secondaries defined shutdown, to the point where an ordinary pass rush generated constant and effective pressure. His safety was Ronnie Lott. That, alone, made them not a finesse team. Since his offense usually provided a lead, his defense could play downhill all game -- and they did it well. For a "cerebral" coach, you rarely saw his line get trampled. Just because they were smart didn't mean they also couldn't play a little smashmouth.
His offense was not as revolutionary as you might be led to believe. Hints and touches of it were around as early as 1960, with an Eagle team that won a championship without being able to run the ball worth a damn. The AFL also had tons of stuff that Walsh used later.
But the mystique that he brought to it -- the hubris of scripting plays in advance, the simple but relentless mastery of the same sets, and the play-calling mix that always seemed to be on point -- was remarkable.
When the Niners came to power, I rooted for them as my back-up team, as did most of America, it seemed. There was a simple reason to this: either you rooted for the Niners or you rooted for the Cowboys, and rooting for the Cowboys was like rooting for a holier-than-thou version of the Yankees.
Besides, there was never a time, before Walsh, that the Niners created any kind of animosity around the league. They just weren't very good very often.
Since Bill lost the fastball and moved on, the Niner faithful have looked and behaved like the rich kid whose family hits hard times -- unable to accept that the glory years have gone forever.
There will also never be, I am certain, a coach that gets this far in front of the game, and maintains his lead for as long as Walsh did. The league is more competitive now, and the race to imitate any innovation is much faster.
He also, and this is true no matter who you root for, made the game better -- simply because he made it OK to think about pro football in all new ways. There isn't too many people who you can say that about.
Monday, July 30, 2007
In the middle of a jaw-dropping story about protests *for* Michael Vick, this little nugget of joy:
On the West Coast, former Falcons coach Jim Mora said he has given Vick moral support in a text message Wednesday.You see what Mora does here? He does the lowest possible form of communication -- ephemeral text messaging -- to reach the guy who killed him at his last job.
What's the matter Jim, couldn't find a "Sorry You've Been Indicted" card at the Hallmark store?
With my flabber being gasted this badly, I'm just rolling the clip that sums up the over-30 mindset towards texting in general. The voice is...
Samuel L. Jackson. Ah, satisfaction.
So, the next time you are at the rodeo, and someone asks you if you want to join in a game of Last Man Standing? Say no. (Of course, as you are at the rodeo in the first place, we're not thinking you always make the best decisions.)
Video is Not Safe For Work, and has blood and Kenny Rogers (not the pitcher). You've been warned... H/t, With Leather.
Answering the prayers of sports bloggers everywhere, this:
Pac-Man Jones to sign with pro wrestling organization.
Two things about this:
1) To complete the fall from grace, it's not even the WWE. This is like going to Scranton to make porn.
2) They say he won't wrestle or be a heel, but they also say that he's an NFL player. Your media, lying to you once again.
And just because I'm in the mood... Pac-Man' Top 5 Possible Signature Moves:
5) The Arrest -- that's where you handcuff your opponent. Despite being anti-climactic, it's how every Pac-Man bout ends.
4) The Shutdown -- this wildly overrated move involves buying your opponent's fake, then getting beaten like a red-headed stepchild. Truest move to his career.
3) The Coach-Killer -- here, you bring someone to the ring with you, then turn on them viciously.
2) The Suspension -- A "rest" submission move where you hang your opponent over the ropes with your money belt. Lasts an inordinately long time, even by overwrought wrestling standards.
1) The Rainmaker. What else could it be? Throw fake money in the air, distracting opponent. Beat the crap out of the opponent, then take back the money. (So what if he stole this from Ted DiBiase? It's not like he hasn't stolen every other move from Mo Clarett.)
I have so many unanswered questions about this. What's his entrance music? Does he lose matches when someone yanks him around my the dreads? Does he have mic skills? Will they trot out a hapless Jeff Fisher-esque lackey/valet? Do strippers accompany him to ringside, only to leave disappointed? Will he make it rain for fans in the front row? The mind reels, and reels, and reels.
H/t, 100% Injury Rate. And thank you, Pac Man. If there were a Sports Blogosphere Man of the Year, you'd take it hands down.
Garnett isn't coming.
Jermaine O'Neal said no, too.
You don't have enough to get Kobe, and he doesn't want to be there, either.
Shawn Marion isn't coming through the door. (On the bright side, neither is Rick Pitino.)
Your team is anchored by two aging wing players, a big man who hasn't put up numbers outside of a garbage time tank season, and a bench that makes my Sixers look... comparable.
The most two important positions on the floor -- center and point guard -- are manned by foul and turnover-prone players with absolutely no offensive game (Perkins and Rondo).
Your coach could not find his ass with both hands and a map. Your GM hired your coach.
You aren't relevant now, you won't be relevant later, and your future looks worse than the Knicks.
So enjoy the latest KG rumors. Like every other deluded franchise and fan base, the straws that you grab at will always seem more plausible in the off-season.
Yesterday's Hall of Fame ceremony for Cal Ripken and Tony Gwynn provoked any number of "you'll never see the likes of them" columns and comments from the usual suspects. Basically, that with free agency, income inequity, the metric system and these pesky kids with their iPods, players who spend 20+ years with the same team won't happen.
But this is, in the words of my dear old grandpappy, a big old steaming pile of crap.
The fact is that it's *always* been rare for a player to have a very long career with one organizarion, throughout baseball history, for two reasons:
1) People who play for a really long time are rare, and
2) If you play for a long time, you've got trade value, and that value usually winds up getting explored at some point.
Don't believe me? Check out Ty Cobb's plaque in Cooperstown, where all of those years in Detroit end with the Athletics. Or Hank Aaron, where 20 years with the Braves end with two with the Brewers. Willie Mays did 20 years with the Giants, then two stumbling around with the Mets.
As a matter of actual fact, rather than a reason to believe that we are all going to Hell In A Handbasket, this is one of the best eras ever in baseball history for people who dote on watching a long career in the same laundry.
Of the 23 players in MLB history with over 10,000 at bats, 11 have played in the last 25 years - Rose, Yaz, Ripken, Murray, Yount, Winfield, Henderson, Molitor, Biggio, Brett and Brock. In that 11, 5 did it in one uniform - Yaz, Ripken, Yount, Biggio and Brett. (In case you're wondering, Gwynn had 9,288 at bats.)
Among active players, it's hard to imagine that Derek Jeter -- currently over 7200 at bats into his career -- ends in anything but pinstriples. Chipper Jones looks pretty locked down in Atlanta. Jorge Posada, Eric Chavez and Jimmy Rollins are all over 4,000 at bats into single team careers; you don't hear their names in trade rumors.
Beyond the sheer historical trends, there's this -- sports marketing is such a force now, and the money is so big... when you, as a team, deal a player who has been seen as the face of the franchise -- it's a big deal. Especially if you're doing it as an obvious salary ploy.
So the Brewers kept Yount, and the Royals kept Brett, and the Astros locked up Biggio, and so on, and so on. And the trend won't stop, because despite the best laid whines of the aging sportwriter, the world isn't going to hell in a handbasket.
So, please, let's just honor Gwynn and Ripken for what they were -- very great ballplayers that woul have been inducted even if they had several teams listed on their final record. Rather than as the last of a breed that, frankly, is nowhere near dying out.
Friday, July 27, 2007
Thursday, July 26, 2007
This isn't sports at all, but it's amazing. He's called Super Bad Brad, and he's something of a phenom in NYC. H/t, Very Short List.
Today's top 10 chucklefest involves future moves by the NFL to make life miserable for those uppity photographers. And just because they don't want to wear a vest that looks like what I had to wear as a minimum wage security guard back in college. Pussies!
In an interview with ESPN.com in March, Briggs didn't mince words about Chicago, the Bears and his teammates.
"There's a difference between the Chicago Bears team and the Chicago Bears organization," Briggs said. "The Chicago Bears team? The coaches, players, city and fans? Yeah, I could stay there forever. I love it. But the Chicago Bears organization? I don't want to be there anymore. I won't play for them and I'll do everything in my power to keep from playing there."
"Whatever options are available to me, I'll take advantage of them. But going back and playing for the Bears again, no, I don't see that as an option. Not one more day. Not at all."
When Drew Rosenhaus is your agent and you take his advice, you usually end up regret taking it. Just ask TO.
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
to see things that don't exist. That's what the meth and bathtub gin is for.
From Awful Announcing via With Leather, and sponsored by the same dipshit mentality that brought you the Red Hot Puck and many, many things that I'm blocking out of my mind because My Mind Is A Happy Place... well, play it, already. In case you're wondering, ESPN is accused of this nonsense.
As always, I have to wonder what's next. Flatulence waves for quarterbacks when they're sacked? Yellow dribbles down the front of struggling closers? Smoke pouring out of the ears of irate coaches? In the words of the late great Bill Hicks on the Easter Bunny, so long as we're making shit up...
Thirty two teams wih a chance. 31 will drink from the chalice of defeat. When will you know it's your team's turn to partake of the bitterness? You could watch the games, or you could read this blog. Today, we'll look at the AFC, also known as the one with the good teams.
On field: When Tom Brady continues his transformation into the non-clutch guy with all of the regular season stats (like The Highlander, There Can Be Only One) by throwing a back-breaking interception in a playoff game. Even money on whether or not the Patriot faithful get their heads away from his nuts long enough to notice.
Off field: When Bill Belicheck, confronted by the bling and star power of new off-season additions, starts dressing as if he has a job and home.
On field: When the Jets are Bad Touched by The Noodly Appendage that is Chad Pennington's right arm, in a wintry game with wind.
Off field: When Eric Mangini, confronted by the track record of Papa Bear Belicheck, starts dressing like a homeless man.
On field: When the euphoria over Trent Green not being as bad as Daunte Culpepper and AJ Feeley wears off.
Off field: When the team comes to the awful collective realization that they still haven't really gotten over losing Ricky Williams.
On field: When it becomes obvious that even though Willis McGahee will never be as good as he thinks he is, he's a damn sight better than what's left.
Off field: When JP Losman reveals his name to stand for Jean Pierre.
On field: When Steve McNair discovers he's 49, and the rest of the division doesn't go 20-28.
Off field: When Brian Billick gets arrested following a fight in an elevator when a fellow rider, who claims to be a big NFL fan, can't recall the Ravens ever making it to a Super Bowl, much less winning it.
On field: When Levi Jones, permanently spooked by the Joey Porter assault, turns into a turnstile, leading to a brutal injury to starting QB Carson Palmer. (Hey, Bengals fan -- I don't mean to alarm you, but your back-up QB is Doug Johnson. Aii.)
Off field: When the entire team goes crazy on Kentucky moonshine, leading to a hilarious, madcap 18-car chase through all of Hazard County. Watch out for Chris Henry's death-defying jump over the Spence Bridge!
On field: Fast Willie Parker starts looking like Duce Staley, or Ben Rothlisberger lookslike he's back on the motorcycle.
Off field: Joey Porter slays 14 in an elaborate revenge killing, and is fined heavily by the NFL. (Big ups, by the way, to Joey for timing his off-season bitch slap of Levi Jones for the Offseason of Vick and Pac-Man. Impeccable timing.)
On field: When the regular season starts.
Off field: When Brady Quinn cashes in on the big endorsement deals and worldwide fame that awaits him as the NFL's first openly gay quarterback. Seriously, Brady, go for it. We're all behind you.
On field: The lack of a quality third wideout since Brandon Stokeley succumbed to White WRS Can Only Have One Good Year Syndrome, combined with the fact tht they are one Bob Harris injury away from not being able to stop the run at all, spells doom.
Off field: Peyton Manning decides that, after conquering all his demons last year, it was more fun being tortured.
On field: The budding QB controversey of Leftwich/Garrard, combined with the budding RB controversey of Taylor/Jones-Drew, creates confusion, dissent, and 25 million pissed-off fantasy football owners.
Off field: Jack Del Rio ups the ante on his previous wood chopping antics, causing the loss of three-quarters of his kickoff coverage team.
On field: The Denver zone-blocking/clipping scheme fails to take hold outside of Denver. Also, Ahman Green continues to steal money in ways that Edgerrin James can only applaud.
Off field: Houston fans, who only know what it's like to watch David Carr get sacked, fail to adjust to watching Matt Schwab get sacked.
On field: Vince Young succumbs to the Madden Jinx by losing resolution and becoming pixelated during a game.
Off field: Albert Haynesworth quits the team to pursue his new love, River Of Pain Dance. His one-man show in Vegas, where he stomps on the faces of prone celebrity imitators, becomes the hottest ticket in town.
On field: Shawn Merriman can't stay healthy and/or on the field due to his pharmaceutical commitment, and the secondary fails to develop, despite its high draft picks (I'm looking at you, Quentin Jammer).
Off field: Norv Turner, lacking confidence in starter Philip Rivers and back up Billy Volek, develops an inexplicable quarterback controversey by bringing in Gus Frerotte and Heath Shuler.
On field: Jay Cutler is praised repeatedly for his "game management" skills, telling the whole world that he's not a quarterback that could ever win on the road against a decent opponent.
Off field: Mike Shanahan's head finally explodes from the force of pure hate generated by tens of millions of fantasy football players over his constant dicking around with RB carries.
On field: After last year's crippling workload, Larry Johnson develops an uncomfortable resemblance to Earl Campbell -- today's Earl Campbell.
Off field: The team discovers, to its eternal shame and horror, that they actually traded to get Herm Edwards as their coach. GM Carl Peterson is driven to madness over the continual reminders of the mistake, and commits the NFL's version of seppaku -- being arrested while trying to order naked at a fast food drive-in.
On field: The NFL rules that the Raiders have to play games against other NFL teams this year, destroying its hope to work their confidence back up by smacking around CFL teams for a while.
Off field: Al Davis kidnaps Jon Gruden, and through an elaborate procedure involving a bone from his late father, the hand of an underling, and Gruden's blood, achieves human form once again, dooming the Raiders to another ten years of spectacularly bad decisions.
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
You are looking at the world's largest seizure of drug money -- $207 million in cash, in the form of dollars, pesos, and yen. More here.
I have no real point to this, but hey -- look it all that money. Woo.
I love when politicians get involved with sports. It always ends in comedy. Currently, Senator Mitchell’s probe of baseball keeps me giggling. He’s been at it a year and finally just got one player to sit down with him and talk – off the record of course. And who could forget that side show of the hearings Congress put on with current and former players? You had Raffy Palmeiro openly lying that he never used steroids – read his lips, it’s all there. Mark McGwire was there but didn’t want to talk about the past. Apparently nobody told him that is what you do at hearings. And the best part. Sammy Sosa acting like this was the first time he was hearing English as he sat there with his interpreter and played the non-English speaking immigrant role.
Whenever politicians have anything to do with sports I get excited because you know some You Tube moments are about to follow. Which leads me to this. Did you see Sen. Robert Byrd’s speech last week basically condemning Michael Vick to the special places in hell? Since Sen. Byrd is from West Virginia, he probably would know where those special places are – hidden somewhere in his home state. Here’s what he had to say (taken from the Washington Post):
"It is a brutal, sadistic event motivated by barbarism of the worst sort and cruelty of the worst, worst, worst, sadistic kind," Byrd said in a 24-minute address on the matter. "One is left wondering: Who are the real animals? Who are the real animals, who are the real animals -- the creatures inside the ring or the creatures outside the ring?...Now I’m not defending what Michael Vick has been accused of (still innocent until proven guilty). I love dogs and hate to see any animal abused the way those dogs were. But for any politician, especially Senator Byrd to condemn someone for their actions like that is ridiculous. This is a man who is a former KKK member and recruiter, refused to serve in WWII because "I shall never fight in the armed forces with a Negro by my side", voted against the 1964 Civil Rights Act and as recently as 2001 used the N word. Oh yeah, he also was the only Democrat to vote to censure Bill Clinton, is against gay marriage or allowing homosexuals to serve in the military and opposes affirmative action. Maybe a hard look in the mirror would have done him some good before giving his supercilious speech.
The Book of Proverbs in the Holy Bible, the King James Bible, tells us a righteous man regardeth the life of his beast but the tender mercies of the wicked are cruel," Byrd said. "The immortal Dante tells us the divine justice reserves special places in Hell for certain categories of sinners. Madam president, I am confident -- madam president, I am confident that the hottest places in Hell are reserved for the souls of sick and brutal people who hold God's creatures in such brutal and cruel contempt! I yield the floor."
Now this is a sports blog and should be contained to sports, not politics, and not about who is going to hell. But I must point out to Bob that he should stick to bigger issues at hand – the war in Iraq, the current housing problem, health care, social security reform and other important issues instead of wasting time and money on a speech that his own fellow Senators were not in attendance to hear. And in terms of Mr. Vick – get a good lawyer. It seems like you’re going to need one.
New movie slogan: If you build it, HE WILL KILL YOU.
Hat tip, Sons of Sam Malone.
Monday, July 23, 2007
She reminds you of your mother in a dirty sort of way
-- Five Chinese Brothers, "She's A Waitress, and I'm In Love"
This post is dedicated to that band and song. Enjoy...
(AP) "To tell you the truth, I don't feel like I did anything wrong," said Garcia, who closed with a 73 and was 1 over in the (British Open) playoff (that he gagged up like a 14-year-old girl with low self-esteem, braces, and an overbite).10. Woe Is Me: L'il Sergio's Battle With Mean Old Reality
"I really didn't miss a shot in the playoff. I hit unbelievable putts. They just didn't go in . . . I should write a book on how not to miss a shot and not win a playoff."
9. Belly Putting For Dummies
8. NOONAN!: What Happens When Tens Of Millions Of Americans Concentrate Their Hate
7. Sergio Garcia And The Deadly Waggles
6. Garcionomics: How Much Choking Cost Me In Endorsements
5. When Bad Things Happen To Irritating People
4. Sisterhood of the Traveling Chokes
3. Are You There, God? It's Me, Sergio
2. Chicken Soup for the Epic Failure's Soul
1. I Can Still Kick Jean Van Der Velde's Ass
Yes Nation, it's the Tim Donaghy / NBA Ref Fixing Games post. Let's get to it, shall we?
For a league that already had major issues from
1) SunsGate (we like to throw this out there to get out Spurs readers to angry up)
2) the NBA Finals that always feels like the fourth act of a three act play
3) a season where half of the Leastern Conference went in the tank (we like to throw this out there to get our Celtics readers to angry up)
4) a WWE-level screw job at the Draft that just coincidentally sent the top picks to teams that didn't tank (Your tears taste so good, Celtic fans)
5) a regular season that actively spit in the face of anyone trying to play fantasy sports...
Well, let's just say that a bookie-mad ref who JUST COINCIDENTALLY led the league in technical fouls called *really* isn't helping matters.
As always, it's not the initial scandal that throws you off the cliff -- it's the long-term damage to credibility. Historically, if you heard someone crying about the ref, you could commiserate over the bad luck, or just shrug and point to the scoreboard as the ultimate arbiter of good and less good.
Now, the sour grapes fan has a whole bag of additional conspiracy to go to... and the NBA bashing crowd, who are never lonely, get an unlimited source of ammo.
Just to make the regular readers of this blog do a spit-take, I'm going to be positive about this. Maybe this is just the crisis that the NBA really needs to get out of its comfortable funk. After all, global awareness continues to rise, television networks keep ponying up the big bucks for games, and while piss-poor NBA Finals ratings don't really make anyone happy, it's clearly not doing enough damage to make the powers that be do something sensible.
What's sensible? The immediate implementation of
1) Reseeding playoff teams to create a more satisfying playoff season
2) Greater quality control of referees, including direct and continuous monitoring of bank statements.
Yes, this is a serious violation of a person's privacy and not foolproof -- but we're talking the completely integrity of the league being at stake. Not keeping a better eye on these people is like running a casino without cameras.
3) Direct and obvious punitive measures against tanking teams.
You're telling me that Joe Smith signing an underhanded contract with the T-Wolves was worth the loss of five number one picks... but the Celtics intentionally trying to lose games in the second half of last season is kosher. Giving Seabass Telfair minutes at any time, to my eyes, is proof that the game is in the bag.
4) Direct and obvious punitive measures against tanking players.
You want to stop the phenomenon of the skilled veteran player with the guaranteed contract that forces a ruinous trade away from his current bad situation to a place with more sun, less taxes and a better chance of getting to the playoffs? Fine him. Suspend him. Dock his pay. Go to war with the union if you have to (trust me, after the lockout year, you're really not going to lose), but get the game back in the hands of organizations, not contractors.
5) Stop coddling China.
The Chinese Government and/or team doesn't want Yi to stiff it up in Milwaukee? Shut down satellite transmissions to the country. Let them take back Yao Ming if they must -- because they won't want to put the toothpaste back in that tube, and they'll cave on Yi, too.
Do all of this, and you still won't have a golden age of the NBA -- because Stern's devil's bargain with Jordan, and the Cult of One over the Cult of Teams that that age created, has never really stopped, and team sports don't work in the long term over being built on individual players. (This, by the way, is how I know David Beckham will do nothing to make US soccer much better. That, and the fact that unless you or your kid is playing it, you probably don't give a crap about it.)
But it will help stop the bleeding, and give people something else to talk about, other than the Black Sox parallels. Worse yet for the NBA, the league does not have a roaring economy and a Babe Ruth-esque player to bring it out of the mess. (No, not even Bassy Telfair.)
Friday, July 20, 2007
We know what you do.
Maybe you started reading them ten years ago, when you were young enough for it to be somewhat acceptable. Or perhaps you have young children, and have been reading the books to them at bedtime. Or maybe you're just a creepy guy who is really into children's literature.
Whatever the reason, it's a problem. How does a beer-swilling, sports-loving, red-blooded, all-American male read the new Harry Potter book in public without looking soft?
The Five Tool Ninja is here to help.
All these years rooting for the Eagles, A's and Sixers, and it turns out I just don't have the magic.
My favorite part of the clip is the guy laughing, alone, at the end, as the camera people wonder if they're going to be able to get out of the house without being killed and mounted on the wall. I'm also convinced that the hex works much better in HD.
H/t, With Leather
Nation -- It's high time those EC people get familiar with FTT's back catalog. Today's update of upcoming sports entertainment shows is from January originally, and lightly updated to cover up the recycling. Besides, there aren't many things that I've written that make me giggle more than "Won't Anyone, For The Love Of God, Blow A Mathlete."
Thirty two teams wih a chance. 31 will drink from the chalice of defeat. When will you know it's your team's turn to partake of the bitterness? You could watch the games, or you could read this blog. Today, we'll look at the NFC, also known as the NBA's Eastern Conference, or MLB's National League.
On field: The day the team's most important offensive player gets hurt. That'd be Brian Westbrook.
Off field: When Andy Reid's kids go on a 3-state killing spree.
On field: The game when Eli Manning has to steal them a road game, and doesn't.
Off field: When Michael Strahan can no longer fit both himself and his ego into the locker room at the same time.
On field: When the Cowboys fail to cover a trick play kickoff lateral play, costing them a first-round playoff game in a particularly heartbreaking fashion.
Off field: When (not if) TO throws the team under the bus. As the scorpion said to the frog, you knew what I was before you gave me a ride.
On field: When Joe Gibbs flushes his QB (whoever it is) and tries to get someone new to learn a 400-page playbook. (If they ever go to the pamphlet "Give the ball to the running backs and no one gets hurt," they'd be dangerous.)
Off field: When Daniel Snyder spends tens of millions of dollars on talented players that other teams let get away, then can't understand why they don't gell in the new situation. Don't worry, Danny boy... Lucy won't pull away the football this year. She promised!
On field: When the vaunted defense gets exposed, as it does in the playoffs every year (see Smith, Steve, and Colts, Running Backs).
Off field: When Rex Grossman goes off on a long-form rant about how his coaching staff doesn't trust him, not realizing, of course, that anyone with a rooting interest in the Bears feels the same way.
On field: Third and long, after the opposing defense has put 9 in the box to stop the running game on first and second down.
Off field: When Tavaris Jackson, in an effort to bond with his teammates, books a boat cruise.
On field: The first game where an opposing RB goes for 150 yards. It won't be the last.
Off field: When someone in the organization notes that maybe, just maybe, they'd be better off without the most overrated quarterback in the league.
On field: When the team's highly publicized core of wide receivers fail to stop the opposing team's offense.
Off field: The day Matt Millen was born.
On field: Drew Brees or Deuce McAllister gets hurt, which will be the day when Reggie Bush's fantasy owners will be filled with (short-lived) joy.
Off field: When they become just another team, rather than America's Sentimental Favorites.
On field: When it becomes apparent that between DeShaun Foster and DeAngelo Williams, they have DeOrdinary Running Backs.
Off field: When Jake Delhomme makes fans wonder what Kerry Collins is up to these days.
On field: When the defense finally withers into ordinary performance.
Off Field: When they discover that loading the roster up with good back up quarterback candidates is not actually a defensible strategy.
On Field: When Joey Harrington's name is announced.
Off Field: Too easy, folks, Too easy.
On Field: When Matt Hasselbeck tells the crowd that they want the ball, and they're going to win.
Off Fied: When Shaun Alexander still looks like he's on the cover of Madden.
On Field: When Marc Bulger gets hurt. Note, not if.
Off Field: When the defense still looks like Mike Martz is involved.
On Field: When Alex Smith fails to cover his guarantee.
Off Field: When someone decides that "Coach Hitler" is a nickname that needs to be revived.
On Field: When the regular season starts.
Off Field: When Edge James can't get through the airport, due to that large fork in his ass setting off the metal detector...
Thursday, July 19, 2007
This post is in honor of the Phillies player with perhaps the best nickname ever in the history of the franchise, Pearce "What's The Use" Chiles. (Hat tip, Ron Schuler's Parlor Tricks, a fine blog for people who like old-time baseball criminals. I eat that stuff with a fork.)
Past NBA posts in this off-season have stressed the idea that NBA General Managers are captivated by brand name players -- to wit, that they'll overpay for a known quantity, rather than roll the dice with a younger, cheaper energy guy. Or that they'll just break the bank for role players, then wonder where the cap money went.
As a Sixers fan, we can just call these the Kevin Ollie All-Stars -- scrubs that no one would ever win with, without any real promise for the future... and yet they're getting contracts. Because in the NBA, Players Nine Through Twelve are all about getting along. Pearce Chiles will have more to do with whether these teams win or lose than these guys.
Here's the list that I'm sure will grow soon...
Bulls sign Joe Smith. I guess he's here to teach Ty Thomas and Joakim Noah. Funny, I thought that was the job of, um, coaches.
Mavs resign Devean George. 2000 was a long time ago, and he wasn't good then, either.
Denver signs Chucky Atkins. Because old point guards are kind of like old left-handed relievers in baseball -- you can be crappy for a long time before everyone finally gets wind and stop paying you.
Indy signs Kareem Rush. Well, sure. Devean George not being available and all.
Milwaukee signs Jake Voskuhl. Well, he'll give them more than Yi. Can they sign Jake Tsakalidis as well, so they can do the whole identical twin tag team and befuddle the refs? I'm still waiting for someone to get the Collins brothers back together and try this.
Phoenix signs Sean Marks. This one makes sense, actually -- it helps them corner that all important Australia / New Zealand fan base.
Utah signs Jason Hart. This hurts me, as a fellow 'Cuse man, but Jason my man... you are the new Rick Brunson. Rent, don't buy.
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
We realize, of course, that it's damn near required by law to discuss The Big Story in sports today -- the tragic but not terribly surprising downfall of a young black quarterback that looked so good, so little time ago.
We're talking, of course, about Daunte Culpepper, released by the Miami Dolphins, because they went out and got themselves Trent Green. Let that sink in for a little while -- they think so little of your talents that they bring in a guy that's positively ancient by NFL standards, with several years of decline despite always having an outstanding running game, who doesn't have nearly the same physical gifts nor draft pedigree...
Oh, you mean there was another QB Immolation yesterday, too?
Yes, the other paw finally dropped in the Mike Vick Cares More About Dog Fighting Than Wealth or Freedom case. A federal grand jury has indicted the southpaw QB (get it? Southpaw! I kill dogs!), asserting all manner of deeds that, once learned, can never be unlearned.
Even by modern athlete standards, Vick's self-inflicted flameout to his career staggers the mind. We're talking about a guy that was a video game come to life, a player who took a dome team into Green Bay and won a playoff game, and the greatest runner ever to play the quarterback position.
OK, he wasn't accurate or durable, and he probably was always better in video games or fantasy leagues... but to go from one of the five most marketable players in (perhaps) the world's most marketable sport to a guy looking at many *years* in the federal hole is just amazing. Don't discount the idea that he'll do time, either. Since Vick made the tactical mistake of not being in the Bush Administration, convictions may actually have consequences.
And for what, really? A taboo thrill. An indecent bloodlust. Combined with gambling. Beyond the sickness of it all, there's also rank stupidity. Do your weirdness in your '40s, no one would notice or care, and you'd probably have more money to buy your Island or Dr. Moreau anyway.
The Falcons, as soon as this freak show gets in their rear view mirror, are the prime candidates for the Nobody Expected This Good Year -- especially since Vick isn't actually a plus quarterback. Since this is football, they won't even take much of a cap hit from this.
And our final word on all this... did anyone have Mike as the Vick Brother to go to the Big House first? Because that bet had to pay off like a Chihuahua pulling off a win against a Doberman. (It's not the size of the dog in the fight, as they say.)
Update -- Turns out that if the Falcons trade or release him, it's $15 million against their cap. What a poison pill this is.
Yes, Nation, it's happened -- the people at Voki have named FTT their Voki of the Day. The image is a screen shot from their site. (It actually happened yesterday. We forgot to hit the Publish button and this stayed as a Draft for a day. Our joy in victory is slightly diminished.)
Greetings, by the way, to anyone from that site, but please be advised that your Voki is weak and worthless compared to ours. They've said as much with the award.
Now, play us out, boys...
Two small bits of business to go through today.
First, welcome Dirty Davey to our roster of lightly posting miscreants. He's stationed in North Carolina, and will help to fill our crucial lack of coverage on college basketball, the NHL, NASCAR, pro wrestling and "Hee Haw." That is, if and when he decides to post, especially once he reads the filthy lies in the last sentence. He also hates Vokis, or at least, that's my story.
Second, on the chance in hell that you care or have noticed, there's been a slight slowdown in the amount of FTT verbiage coming from ol' Shooter; that's because I'm two-timing FTT with posts over at Epic Carnival, in a mad rush to try and expose myself to more people. Also, my professional life is actually becoming professional. Sad, isn't it? More here, when I can.
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
Today's is all about Alonzo Mourning deciding to play one more year, despite the presence of guys from the glue factory hanging outside his locker all the time. It's a feel-good anthem.
Nothing But Giants
T.O. Fan Club
Meeting New Friends
18th Team This Year
Guys I Think Are OK
Tony Siragusa Cute
My Very First Team
WE ARE SO AWESOME
I Can't Stop Weeping
The Buffalo Bills
Brett Can Never Quit
Here 2 Impress Girls
Don't Tell My Wife
Chris Benoit Tribute
Monday, July 16, 2007
"I heard something about it (Saturday), so I just decided to end it today. Had I known about it, I would have done it earlier," Teahen said.Teahen leads the team in hitting but has struck out 83 times in 89 games while walking 39.
Teahen's owner in my fantasy league sent that to me, along with the fact that the guy hasn't gone deep since Memorial Day. Someone might want to remind him of that, too...
Does FTT have it in us to piss on the Yankees on the day when they finally get back over the .500 mark, and cut the more and more vulnerable looking Red Sox lead to 9 games? Especially when they've got a 4-game series at home next against the very beatable Blue Jays? You bet your ass we do...
Lost in the hoopla (we're assuming there was hoopla) over scaling Mount .500 with a win over Edwin Jackson -- and good grief, has a promising prospect ever turned into more of a punching bag than this guy? -- is Friday's pounding of Roger Clemens, now 2-4 with a 4.20 ERA.
This is what someone named Josh Wilson, a .218 hitter on his third team, said on Friday after tripling against Clemens and ending his night:
When they start talking about you as if you are already wearing your third or fourth retirement watch... and you only have 9 strikeouts in your last 21.1 innings... well, maybe it's time to accept that Saint Roger is not going to really earn that $22 million so much as collect it. The 7.56 ERA outside of Yankee Stadium is especially jarring.
"You can't say enough about that guy -- how good he is and what he's done in his career. This is something special, getting to face this guy. It could be the only time I get to face him. And to actually get a hit off him is pretty cool."
That's not to say that he can't be effective -- two of his three starts this month, he's gone 8 and pitched very well at home, against the Twins and Angels. But it's worth watching that he's already thrown 45 innings this ear, and that his last few years in the AL, the ERA was 3.51, 4.35 and 3.91 -- and that was when he was still racking up nearly a strikeout an inning. More balls in play equals more chances to get hits, especially with the not-exactly-Golden defense the Bombers put up behind him.
Clemens is, at this point, the perfect pitcher for the Yankees -- overpriced, overrated, and .500. And I'm not expecting things to get much easier on him as the pitch count increases.
As Roger Clemens staggers around 350 wins, and Tom Glavine continues his death march to 300 (298 was Saturday), there's been a fair amount of talk about the Death of the 300 Game Winner... as if something that's only been done by 22 pitchers in 120+ years of MLB records is something that ever was in full flower. FTT, in an admittedly unexpected lapse into real analysis, has five much more unbreakable marks.
> 300 Triples
Wahoo Sam Crawford's 309 leads this category, followed by his running mate Ty Cobb at 297. This might be the safest hitting record in baseball.
The top 50 in this category are all from the distant past. Your active leader in this category is the barely active Steve Finley, with 129, followed by the spry but ancient Kenny Lofton at 112. Among players who could still be considered on the front side of their career, Carl Crawford has 73.
Blame better outfield arms, saner outfield configurations, and the general fact that fast players now seem much more likely to encounter hamstring problems than back in Ye Olde Days.
> 1000 Steals, or 300 Caught Stealings
Rickey Henderson's 1406 steals and 335 caught stealings makes him The Greatest Of All Time (just ask him).
Another byproduct of the old days, with the top active players (Eric Young and Lofton again) barely even halfway to either mark, let alone Rickey. Even if we do have a resurgence of interest in the speed game, it's unlikely that anyone is going to be healthy long enough to get the bags, or keep the confidence in a post-sabermetric era to get thrown out that often.
> The .450 OBA
Ted Williams .482 OBA leads. Even Bonds, the modern OBA freak that stops all others, is padding along at a simple .442 pace. Todd Helton's Colorado-aided exploits are stuck at .431, followed by Big Hurt Thomas at .422.
OBA is valued now more than it's ever been, but the idea of getting on base 48% of the time for your whole damned career... and having many of the best years of that career eaten by military service... well, you can see why some people hold to the idea that Williams is the best player in MLB history with the bat in his hands.
> The .650 SLG
Babe Ruth's .690 SLG leads all. Bonds is best among actives at .607, followed by ManRam at .594.
The trouble with chasing a percentage mark is that you've got to be ahead of it before the decline years start; if you don't have some cushion or an artificial end to things, you'll never keep the record. Ruth's last four years in the Show prove this out: .661, .582., .537 and .431.
By the way, this is also a case where modern money don't help the record chasers. Ruth in 1935, even hitting .181 with the Boston Braves, was still a .790 OPS; far from the worst hitter in the league, and for all we know, he could have still had something in the tank, especially if he had cleaned up his act. If Ruth was around today, he'd have gotten plenty of more chances, and dollars, to keep chasing it.
> The .350 BA.
Ty Cobb's .367 leads. The only modern player in the top 15 is Tony Gwynn at .338, followed by Todd Helton at .332. Once again, the percentages are more than safe, but they just don't have the same oomph as the grand total categories.
The pitching categories, of course, are rife with hard records: from Cy Young having 161 more wins than Clemens to the growing fossilization of the complete game, the game is just different than what it used to be. A little known chase -- Nolan Ryan is the third-losingest pitcher in MLB history, with 292 losses to go with his 324 wins; he's only 24 behind Cy Young, in case he's feeling like an Anthony Young-ish comeback. But here's the one we're pretty sure is safe, even more than Cy Young's wins (after all, Cyber Clemens could definitely get there, especially after the robot limbs are put in for 2015 season).
> The Sub 2 ERA.
Ed Walsh leads all at 1.82 ERA, and I'm thinking that's going to be true until we're all long gone, unless someone from the Far East has a much nastier gyroball than Dice-K has shown so far.
Your active leader is Pedro at 2.81, and then Mad Dog Maddux at 3.10, fighting it out in a little-followed battle with Clemens at 3.11. Your top 57 guys in this category are all long gone, along with any vision of baseball were sub-2 ERAs for a career in pitching are possible.
Sunday, July 15, 2007
The Coach Hitlers
Ivy Leaguers Only
Less Talk Mo Clarett
The 46 Offense
The Cleveland Browns
Guys My Wife Likes
Chris Benoit Tactics
Al Davis Isn't Dead
North Coast Offense
(Punt, Pass and Kickers I'd Like to...)
10. Big Ass
9. Huge Nostrils
8. Oversized Feet
7. Distended Abs
6. Elongated Hips
5. Sore Lip
3. Freakish Ear
2. Oversized Teeth
1. Even Fatter Head
(And if you don't know what we're talking about... we don't believe you, but play the video anyway. No 12-year-old boy with confused sexuality should be without one.)
In tonight's ESPN Who's Now PudPull, Michael Wilbon, in discussing Maria Sharapova, said that she doesn't want to be known just for sex appeal, and that "I think we can all understand that."
This is a recent picture of Michael Wilbon.
How, exactly, do "we" understand that, Michael?
Mommy and Daddy are fighting again!
Yes, if it's Saturday, it must be another chapter in the book that only New York wants to read, Alex Rodriguez's Life In Newspapers.
The latest is that the third baseman and preseason FTT MVP candidate (you can, as they say, look it up -- though we'd like it if you ignore all of the other predictions) says he's going to opt out of his contract at the end of the year, and that he's going to Vegas for a weekend with his friends.
The Yanks said fine, that's great -- we'd like to extend you now. And also, my mother wants to visit. For a month.
A-Rod replied that he won't negotiate during the season, and that he wants to buy a motorcycle.
The Yankees countered with saying that if he's going to be that way, they won't negotiate with him in the off-season. And that if he doesn't start picking up his underwear, they're just going to throw it out.
Dishes, presumably, will be thrown next, after an exchange of idle threats.
Meanwhile, the Yankee fans are watching from this whole thing from upstairs. Should they be happy that the mean man who doesn't make Mommy happy will leave?
But if that happens, Mommy won't be able to stay in this house in the first division. And Daddy might go live with that tramp with the Boston accent right down the street. Mommy would never get over that.
Kids, FTT is here to tell you -- don't worry.
Mommy and Daddy are going to stay together.
That's because no one else can stand them.
Or you, really.
Now, stop crying and go to bed!
Friday, July 13, 2007
Ed Note: On Wednesday, Wrigley became the official chewing gum of the NBA.
10) Ricky Davis is even less intelligible with a wad of gum in his mouth
9) Anderson Varejao thinks "Juicy Fruit" is his secret nickname
8) Grant Hill will get a paper cut from opening a pack and miss 40 games
7) Deceptively fresh breath will keep Adonal Foyle in the league for another year
6) PJ Carlessimo's triumphant comeback will be curtailed when he chokes on a wad
5) Shaq likes Bubble Yum instead, and when SHAQ GET MAD, SHAQ SMASH!
4) Introduces a potentially addicting habit to impressionable young NBA players
3) Double Mint Twins now have to get piercings, tatoos, chlamydia
2) Sticky gum residue on sneakers makes Red Auerbach roll over in his grave
1) Anything that's associated with the Cubs, even indirectly, can't be good
H/t, Crain's, as per Chicago Business.com.
Seen, in the last week, on my commute...
1) A guy wearing a New York Hitmen hat.
Yes, the last man in America to wear XFL gear. Wonder if there's a sub-Saharan village that's decked out in San Francisco Demon gear?
2) Two very obese guys, in their late '30s, wearing Jose Reyes and David Wright Mets jerseys.
The slightly less rotund one, being the speedier or the two, had the Reyes gamer. I'm betting he plays shortstop on his softball team.
3) A borderline homeless guy wearing a STARBURY jersey.
I checked to be sure. Not actually Starbury.
Ed. Note: As with the very popular Bad Fantasy Baseball Team Names, please note that all of these fit in the Yahoo! game's character limit.
They also work well for starting your own NFL-ish blog, though we have to tell you -- only truly idiotic people start sports blogs. Please use irresponsibly; more later.
Bad Touch Football
Using The Shotgun
Tom Landry's Corpse
Key West Raiders
Rae Carruth Fan Club
Frank No Train Lanes
Dick Butkus? Not Us
Dennis Miller Time
East Bay Packers
In case you've been wondering, the little animated avatar thing on the top right of the site, under the logo? It says things that we wrote if you click on the > button, and won't spawn an ad or nothing.
Now, some of you, the ones that hate America, are ad blocking this. Why? Because flashing or talking things offend your on some religious level, or something. Who can explain you, really? It's a wonder you're online, rather than yelling at those pesky kids to stay off your lawn.
Anyway, the weekly (or so) updates give you a brief recap of what's been on FTT in the last week, and additional Humor Content. It's just like reading, only faster and, well, not.
We now return you to your regularly scheduled timewaste.
Thursday, July 12, 2007
This was sent my way by the very good MacG. Combined with some mid-afternoon rap from Pandora, it has given me the definitive nickname for the #1 pick in the NBA Draft. (For the record, Oden says this picture was from back in high school, at a party. If so, high school has changed since I was young. A lot.)
Greg Oden, you are now and forever more known as ODB, the Ol' Dirty Bastard.
Now, will you all please join me...
ODB Ain't Nuttin' Ta Fuck Wit! ODB Ain't Nuttin' Ta Fuck Wit!
Continuing the theme of the off-season where people can't piss on Milwaukee enough, Bucks guard and probable salary contract year hero Mo Williams is allegedly talking about going to the Heat for less money than the Bucks are willing to offer.
Some folks on the Internet are having a hard time figuring out why going to the Heat, where the old men already have their ring and the coach is old and cranky, would be attractive. The Heat are, let's face it, one long-term injury to D-Wade away from being bad enough to be relocated to the Atlantic Division.
These folks are, of course, missing a few points:
1) The Bucks aren't very good either
2) The Yi Era isn't going to be pretty
3) There is no state income tax in Florida, which helps alleviate the contract
4) The only people who would prefer to live in Milwaukee over Miami are... people who have probably lived in Milwaukee for their whole lives (and probably not all of them, either)
5) Miami's groupies are, how shall we say, in another league over Milwaukee.
Let us, shall we say, go to the tape.
Meanwhile in Miami, nominal starting PG Jason Williams is said to be nervous for his job. To which we can only say this -- don't sweat it, White Chocolate. Mo Williams isn't from Viet Nam.
And he doesn't have a Nike ad, either.
Update -- Mo Williams signs for 6 years and $52 million to stay with the Bucks. Guess that mid-level exemption in Miami -- which is to say, $5.3 million a year -- was too far from the number he could get in in the Great White North.
The Portland Trail Blazers are about to give Steve Francis $30 million dollars to stay the hell away from their team.
This is my favorite new trend in NBA contracts: the buyout of the overrated veteran who might become a locker room cancer. May we all find opportunities in life to be so abundant.
Stevie Franchise (by the way, did we ever nail down which franchise that was? I'm thinking a White Castle near the bus terminal) may have been a bit of a monster for some fantasy teams in his All Star years, but even on his best day and behavior, was never a guy that was going deep into the playoffs. On his worst day, and he's been having a lot of those recently, he's a would-be coach killer who is either injury-prone or a malingerer.
There's only two kinds of reactions that you can have to the buyout, if you are Francis; anger at being dissed translating into a good year (aka, Chris Webber in Detroit), or whooping it up like a soon-to-be-broke lottery winner (Jalen "Max" Rose, come on down!).
Seeing as Stevie is said to be angling for a Clipper reunion with Cut Mobley (another guy who won't be going deep into the post-season, and that's assuming good behavior), I think we all know what path he's choosing. Let the good times roll!
If the Clips sign Franchise, he'll hog the ball and get his numbers on the offensive end while getting eaten alive by the West's really good point guards (Parker, Williams, Paul, Davis, Nash). Meanwhile, clueless Clip fans will get totally fooled, because he'll have numbers, and he's got to be better than the ancient Sam Cassells and the infirm Shaun Livingstone.
Next (perpetual?) stop: the 10 seed in the West. And speaking of the Clips, has anyone else noticed that Elton Brand is starting to look and sound a lot like Boxer from Orwell's Animal Farm?
(Click through to see the finest animated film ever bought and paid for by the CIA, which is up in its entirety on YouTube. 90+ minutes or so.)
Ladies and gentlemen, we are proud to present the next craze in dubious sport. As well as the only place where you'll see morbidly obese people referred to as "jockeys."
Enjoy it now, before gambling, the World Wide Lemur and big money free agents ruin it...
10. JD Drew
9. Barry Bonds
8. Stephon Marbury
7. Brett Favre
6. Terrell Owens
5. Dirk Nowitzki
4. Barry Zito
3. Kobe Bryant
2. Eli Manning
and the number one pick, to the point of making the rest of the list meaningless...
1. Brady Quinn
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
> Victor Zambrano, once traded to New York for Scott Kazmir, cut by the Toronto Blue Jays. He was 0-2 with a 10.97 ERA.
Zambrano's Met career: 8-14, with an ERA well over 6.
> Today's Yi Jianlian Update: 3 points and 5 turnovers on 0/6 FG shooting. His Team China team lost by 23 in summer league action to the Knick irregulars.
That sound you just heard was Bucks Fan smacking himself. Hard.
> Albert Pujols is bent that he rode pine for the entire All Star Game.
Consider that payback for the April that buried everyone who took you with the first pick in their fantasy draft, Albert. (Including, of course, me.)
Now, can you Angry Roid up and hit some freaking homers in the second half?
With the 5-4 win tonight, it's now 10 in a row for the American League.
Just to give you an idea of how long it's been since the National League won an All-Star Game, consider the following. The last time the NL won:
The game was played at Veterans Stadium.
Michael Jordan was a Chicago Bull.
Timothy McVeigh was on trial.
HD had just been introduced.
Brett Favre was the best QB in football, and the Packers were the best team.
Apple was financially troubled.
Diana, Princess of Wales, was alive.
Google did not exist.
Neither did blogs.
Ed. Note: Miami Heat forward Antoine Walker was robbed at gunpoint in his Chicago home on Monday.
Since he's OK and no one was hurt, and this did not happen to us, here's a tasteless list....
1) Did any of the robbers look like Nazr Mohammed?
2) After stealing money from the Heat last year, did Antoine feel the experience was in any way ironic?
3) Which of 'Toine's donuts did the robbers enjoy most?
4) Why didn't the robbers go after a starting player?
5) Did 'Toine call up Paul Pierce afterward, and did Pierce remind him about that whole stabbing thing?
6) Who is 'Toine planning to rob in return?
7) The robbery happened at night. Why was 'Toine at home?
8) Will this get him sympathy calls from the refs next year?
9) Does this make him regret not playing in the summer league?
10) Is Pat Riley *really* relieved that 'Toine is OK?
(Bonus, stolen from an ESPN commenter -- How did 'Toine keep the robber from getting a shot off?)
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
I've been invited to join a superblog (that's like a blog, but super) called Fun House Rejects. The ringleader over there is DC Scrap, and I'm proud to be his little dancing monkey. It was either that, or drive the damn car. And nothing stinks more than a contorted clown.
Anyway, when I've thrown something new over at FHR, you'll see a link to it here on FTT.
(Ed. Note: Site's still private at this point, so here's the post. Anyway, y'all get the gist now.)
Top 10 Reasons God Has Forsaken Kurt Warner
Greetings, sports clown enthusiasts. I'll be the dancing monkey at this little freakfest. Oh, and Hat Tip to the Sports Hernia for the image.
10) Bill Bidwell radiates an aura that prayer can not escape
9) One word: Brenda
8) Once Kurt got older than Jesus, he just stopped being cute
7) Just can't take the fumbling
6) Has to balance out the prayers of millions of gamblers, too
5) Once you work for Tom Coughlin, grace takes a vacation
4) Thought he could have put more effort into his book
3) Still bent over the loss of NFL Europe
2) Enjoys favoring the Niners, just to mess with he fundamentalists
and the number one reason...
1) The Arizona Cardinals are Job's team
* * * * *
Finally, rest assured that this is all still part of the great plan to Conquer Antarctica. The penguins are doomed.