From the frequently great Web comic "Medium Large." Worthy of a bookmark, and your continued patronage, especially if it keeps your wife away from late nights at the book club. (And yes, if you click on the images, the pictures get big enough to actually read. Kind of.)
Our crush on Barney Frank continues. Between sports gambling and marijuana legalization, we'll take care of this recession in no time!
Perhaps the gift of the year (century?) for that guy in your fantasy league who always wastes your time with nonstop trade requests. Let him know that you're ready to support him in his good fight. This ranks right up there with an Owens or Favre jersey for Cowboys or Jets Fan...
Jose Reyes is the most exciting Spanish speaker in baseball. Now, if he had only followed up with, "Tell me how my ass tastes," he'd have won me over...
Only $2,026 so far for your very own Zamboni. That's Big Fun!
Major League Jerk with your WBC update, because we can't be bothered to watch the silly thing. But on the plus side, the USA punked Canada, and I can't stand those freaking Canucks evcer since the start-up with Canadian management, two start-ups ago. Screw you, hosers!
Can you really break your penis? is the actual title and sum and substance of this real, actual page from Scientific American. Kudos to them for the image selection of the year on this, and by all means, go get yourself informed. The penis you save may be your own!
Nick Underhill drinks the Royals Kool-Aid. I'm pretty sure that he does this every year. Just make Greinke start every game!
Republican Answer Man Bobby Jindal is an exorcising machine. The power of Jebus compels you!
The Marbury Era for the Celtics with startlingly awful loss to the Clippers, and then a DUI for reserve Gabe Pruitt. Starbury Fever, Celtics Fan -- Catch It!
Just in time for the NCAA tournament, here's the site -- FanWagon -- that's a great directory for true-blue fan Web blogs of major colleges. Especially valuable for trash talking the opposition with time efficiency!
And finally, Punch-Out! comes out for the Wii on May 18. I predict many controller related injuries, and at least five frothing media reports with "IS THE WII KILLING OUR CHILDREN???" style headlines...
It's MLB picture day over at the Sports Hernia. The Brewers going all emo does not bode well for their chances, I think.
Today's Moment of Blasphemy from the Onion is particularly trenchant, especially if you're wearing those shoes.
Major League Jerk is starting a fantasy baseball league against their commenters, and the winner gets a shirt. The FTT lawyers will be in touch, since that's so our move.
Epic Carnival ran a sports story? Kind of? I need to encourage that. Besides, there's NSFW Unit Hate. Or that this is one of those memes the Internet kids are into these days.
Actual Kentucky senator and one-time perfect game Phillies pitcher Jim Bunning gives one of those incredibly half-assed apologies for actively counting down the days towards another person's death. Classy!
10. (To Tony Dungy on the NBC set At halftime) "The Cards have just suffered a hideous and devastating tragedy on the final play before halftime. How do they get over that?"
9. (To Kurt Warner) "How much does winning the Walter Payton award mean to you right now?"
8. (To Larry Fitzgerald Sr.) "Do you even know the names of your other kids anymore?"
7. (To Charlie Batch) "Was getting your second ring sweeter than your first?"
6. (To Dominique Rodgers-Cromartie) "So, all in all, how would you rate your rookie year?"
5. (To Mike Tomlin) "When Ken Whisenhunt was making all of those correct challenges and getting his team to come back from the biggest deficit in Super Bowl history, how tight was your anus?"
4. (To Justin Hartwig) "If the safety had been a critical part of a loss, how would you have had the ref killed?"
3. (To Ben Roethlisberger) "Since your wide receivers keep winning the MVP in your Super Bowl wins, aren't you more or less a glorified game manager?"
2. (To Edge James) "Was playing in the Super Bowl everything you hoped it would be?"
1. (Once more to Warner) "Why is Troy Polamalu's god better than yours?"
(Bailiff enters)
All rise!
(Judge enters)
Hear ye, hear ye, ladies and gentlemen of Blogfrica. Five Tool Court is now in session to determine the fate of Kurt Warner, quarterback of the Arizona Football Cardinals. Mr. Warner stands accused of the following crimes:
> Multiple counts of criminal abuse of a religious deity
> Multiple counts of fraud, from misrepresenting the excellence of his teammates as his own
> Multiple counts of animal husbandry, because there’s no way that, recent improvements to the contrary, Brenda Warner is human
> Multiple counts of giving aid and comfort to Red State Americans who should have neither aid nor comfort
If found guilty, Warner will be afflicted with a cancer to be determined by the prosecutor, and I think we all know where he's going to put it.
He will also take the position as the third member in FTT's Quarterback Phantom Zone, and will be eventually Photoshopped into a 3-way with Brett Favre and Tony Romo, and more likely than not, made to take the Sarah Douglass position, with the little bob haircut.
(collective gasp from the crowd)
If found innocent, Warner will remain free as an honorable combatant to Eagles Nation, with no greater scorn or malice than dozens, if not hundreds, of other NFL players.
Your votes in the comments shall decide Warner's fate. Choose wisely.
The prosecuting attorney is Tracer Bullet. He has the opening statement.
Thank you, your honor. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I do not envy you today. For today, you have to gaze into the very soul of a man – a man prone to inappropriate outbursts of religiosity, a man given to denigrating the hard work of his coaches and teammates by ascribing all success to his imaginary friend in the sky, a man whose self-aggrandizing pieties are so shocking, so naked, so base and profane that one wonders if he doth not protest too much – and you must judge him.
Is Kurt Warner, in fact, a Satanist? No. Probably. Is he an insufferable god-botherer who should take that Jesus schtick somewhere where men don’t spend their work hours trying to destroy each other and the off-hours trying to destroy themselves? That is for you to decide.
For today, you must look into the very soul of Kurt Warner, and you must judge him. Indeed, his story is impressive, going from the Arena League to now his second Super Bowl. Yes, he deserves praise for saving untold numbers of billy goats by marrying that wire-haired man-goblin he calls a wife and taking her from beneath that bridge where she’d lived for centuries. But does that absolve him from shoe-horning some tortured reference to Jebus into every conversation? That is for you to decide.
For today, you must look into the very soul of Kurt Warner, and you must judge him.
Does not the Bible, a book that, as we will prove, Kurt Warner has sex with on a regular basis, say in the Gospel of Matthew, chapter six, verse five: "And when thou prayest, thou shalt not be as the hypocrites are: for they love to pray standing in the synagogues and in the corners of the streets, that they may be seen of men. Verily I say unto you, They have their reward."
Is a post-game interview anything but a street corner writ large? By that standard, by his own standard, I say YEA VERILY, Kurt Warner is but the basest and most foul of hypocrites. A man who feigns piety for his own glory.
And so, by that standard, by the standard of any reasonable man or woman, you must gaze into the soul of Kurt Warner and you must judge him. No, ladies and gentlemen of the jury I do not envy you, for you must sit in judgment of a man today. Yet, judge him you must and judge him you shall. You must name him for the beast that he his: A self-righteous ass-clown.
Good luck. I thank you for your often thankless service.
Warner's court-appointed defense attorney is DMtShooter. His rebuttal is as follows.
People of the jury, I am not here to defend all of the actions and choices of Jebus's Own Quarterback. I share neither the faith nor the inclination to defend all of the actions of a man who, like a child, should be seen and not heard. As an Eagles' fan, I deeply desired that his last game would have resembled "The Passion of the Christ", only with more gore.
But the simple fact is that Warner, while guilty of a fair number of crimes, is not worthy of banishment to the Phantom Zone, nor the prosecutor’s insistence on dick cancer. He is, simply, no worse than most of his NFL brethren. Consider the following.
1) He's not a Manning.
2) He doesn't pout on the field like Jay Cutler.
3) He doesn't drink with the underaged, like his back-up, Matt Leinart.
4) He hasn't made his coach think he's going to off himself like a bulimic teenager, a la Vince Young.
5) He doesn't impregnate models, run up the score, and make decent people spit, like Tom Brady.
I've just named five quarterbacks more worthy of banishment. Where is the prosecutor's dick cancer for them?
Warner's greatest crime for the prosecutor is that he beat the Eagles in a big playoff game. Which brings up the other matter: why Warner, more than Brad Johnson? Why him, more than the quarterback who has not only beaten the Eagles at home in a playoff game, but also gave the Cardinals safe passage to the game in which they defeated the Eagles?
And yet Jake Delhomme is free to walk the streets, admittedly drunk, homeless and in disguise, lest he suffer the same fate as Benito Mussolini. But a free man nonetheless.
No, Warner's biggest crime is simply his jersey. Had he been wearing the local laundry, and won a Super Bowl, we would not be here today. Instead, we would all be kneeling in his church, hopeful that our hero was about to take our team to the promised land once again.
The prosecutor would be on his knees, accepting Kurt's communion. And he would not be alone.
The defense rests.
Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, what say you?
GSF's resident homeless fantasy football addict with his disdain for Captain Jebus. This is what we in the blog business call Foreshadowing.
Nick Underhill from I'm Writing Sports with a nice piece on the final days of Pedro Martinez. Nick gets at the gist of something important here, which is the art of performance that makes certain athletes more compelling to watch than others. Personally, if my team signed Pedro, I'd be more than a little pleased by the move; I think he's still got something left.
The Sports Hernia presents more of the newest Lemur celebrity, Chris Berman's Hungover Hair. Not for the timid.
There's awesome, and then there's totally awesome. This qualifies. Now, if only the hackers could use their powers for promoting this blog.
David Roth gives you reasons for the Steelers. They are good reasons.
Oh, you think that we want a good game? That's so adorable! No, let's face it folks, once you've entered the exciting life of writing about sports, your priorities change in ways that can hardly be imagined... in that we know that once this game is over, we've got weeks of bloghole to fill without the thing that you people actually care about. (SPRING LEAGUE, NFL! THINK OF OUR CHILDREN!)
11. Post-game rioting and/or drunken video. The thrill of victory is only matched by the sloppy, sloppy tears of your enemies' defeat, folks. And I hate to break it to you, Steeler Fan, but since no one in America actually knows a Cardinals Fan, that just means that Neutral Fans are kind of hoping you go down, and that you've finally got enough Web cams to tell the world how sad you are. It's really the only thing that's keeping Ohio Football Fan's head out of the oven right now. (That, and the fact that they can't afford to pay the utility bill.)
10. Wardrobe malfunction. Let's face it, folks -- any kind of nip slip, especially if it's accompanied by a skillful censorship from the mainstream media, is just Pure Gold to us in Blogfrica. Some of us are still living off those images, especially with foreign countries cracking down on porn domains. Bring it on, mammary glands!
9. Kurt Warner or Troy Polamalu loses and renounces their faith. It's only logical, isn't it? Guys, if you're going to give all faith and credit to your Messiah in moments of triumph, all I'm asking for is equal time. If nothing else, put on the hair shirt and detail your all-too-human weakness that caused the Lord to deliver such a crushing lesson to you and your poor teammates.
8. Pregame arrest. Everyone thinks that we're rooting for the Hooker Bust, but that's just getting greedy. We'll gladly take someone going off their meds and wandering the streets like a crazy person, while everyone pretends it isn't a distraction. That works just fine.
7. Matt Leinart Drinks. Is anyone else reading the inevitable puff pieces over how the Cardinals' resident trustafarian has Grown Up So Much by picking splinters out of his ass, as, well, tiresome in the extreme? We don't have time for yet another studious NFL understudy. Matty occupies a very select role in the NFL as the biggest slacker/disappointment in the league. We can get the Good Teammate Bad Back Up QB anywhere. Chug, Matty, Chug!
6. Ref conspiracy. Nothing quite extends those good old traffic numbers as the whole "The Game Is Fixed" / "You Guys Are Whiners" debate, otherwise known as the only thing that people now think about Seahawks Fan. Let's get Tim Donaghy on this. We've got a city to trash.
5. Gambling meltdown. This one ties into the ref conspiracy wish, but if the money swings on the spread back and forth in this last week, from 7 points to 6.5, and then the game winds up hitting that 7 point bump exactly... preferably with some highly questionable ref work and/or a coaching decision... well, that would more or less take care of February for us. Keep this in mind, Mike Tomlin, especially if you're driving for the game winner late. Jeff Reed is not acceptable.
4. Obama Pop In. With the approval ratings for the new President still in that happy He's Not The Old Guy place, and his willingness to go outside the usual broadcast network suspects for his media jones... well, let's go, Mister President! Take a tour of all of the major sports blog sites. Or, um, just this one. We'll ask all of the questions that need to be asked, such as, "Why can't I gamble on this game legally?" and "No, seriously, why can't I gamble on this game legally?"
3. Blimp terror. Every year, the difference between the people going to the game and people you don't want to die in a horrible death grows. (At least for Eagle Fan.) And if you are not feeling this, please go look at more Media Day highlights. And people wonder why the most universal political thought in our fractured national landscape is this: the media sucks.
2. Springsteen insanity. I want a 60-second monologue that goes nowhere, some kind of not funny at all banter with Clarence Clemons, and then, just when the powers that be think that it's all over, a freaky shadow phallus with the guitar. Bring it, Boss!
1. Poon, poon, poon. From the Lingerie Bowl to the Go Daddy Spank Spank Spank ads, to the HD cheerleaders and the blog-ready groupie porn, we don't *need* no stinking wardrobe malfunction for cheap clicks. Remember, girls, it's not exploitation if you exploit yourself. Also, that we so respect your personal choices, especially when you get us sweet, sweet traffic. Poon on!
The Lemur with the story out of Texas, where the coach of a girls high school basketball team that won by a 100-0 score was fired on Sunday (the Lord's Day!) for not apologizing over the experience.
(And before I get into any of this... well, yes, your immediate reaction might be to just make sure that your kid never gets into high school sports. Yeesh.)
The Covenant School of Dallas, a private Christian school, posted a statement regretting the outcome of its Jan. 13 shutout win over Dallas Academy. "It is shameful and an embarrassment that this happened. This clearly does not reflect a Christlike and honorable approach to competition," said the statement, signed by Kyle Queal, head of school, and board chair Todd Doshier. The coach, predictably, does not agree, and one suspects this will only end when the demon lawyers show up.
Now, a small point about this. I'm no religious expert, but since when is excellence a non-Christian value? I'm fairly sure that during the Crusades, a 100-0 casualty count for the cross-bearers would have been Just Peachy. Similarly, I've read the Book of Revelations (it's especially good when you're feeling altered), and from what I can tell, 100-0 is the point spread you should be betting at the Lake of Fire.
Oh, and just because the opponent in this case is a place that has 20 girls in the entire school, and teaches kids who are struggling with "learning differences" like short attention spans or dyslexia... well, sheesh. I'm sure those afflictions also crippled the Saracens, and some of those demons are bound to have reading problems. Cry havoc, and let loose the dogs of redemption!
What some might call tempting the gods of Fate, I call 100% Justified Confidence. Come on, Steeler Fan, show a little faith!
10) The Steelers held top WRs to just 6.5 yards per attempt this year, so Larry Fitzgerald is not even planning on playing
9) Kurt Warner's Born Again Jebus Power is no match for Troy Polamalu's Eastern Orthodox Pray Every Play Jebus Power
8) Anquan Boldin's behavior in their last game was the very worst thing a wide receiver has ever, ever done, and there's no way the Cardinals can overcome that
7) Both Cardinals fans that were thinking of going to the game are now in jail for lawn abuse
6) The Steelers are favored by seven points, and favorites always win in the NFL Playoffs
5) After what he did to Willis McGahee, no Cardinals offensive player will be able to go within 10 yards of Ryan Clark without soiling themselves, which generally leads to more turnovers
4) Seahawks Fan will tell you, and tell you, and tell you, how the refs are totally in the tank for the Steelers in the Super Bowl
3) While the Cardinals are the home team for the game, the Steelers were 6-2 on the road
2) There's no way that the Cardinals can succeed against a team with strong blitz schemes, a good pass defense, and a quarterback that can extend plays with his feet
1) I've picked against the Cardinals for three straight playoff games now, but this time, I *really* mean it
Well, folks, I didn't want to have to go here, in the worst week of the year for sports blogging. (And dear Lord in heaven, yes, this is the worst -- it's cold and bitter January, no one ever enjoys the Super Bowl bye week, I can't convince you of the merits of the Association, baseball is months and months away, and there's literally nothing going on outside of the Big 3 Sports to save us from the Tee Dee Umm. Seriously, all of the other unpopular bloggers are going to Inauguration coverage. But I digress.)
The simple fact is that despite multiple high traffic links in January (we're having our second best traffic month in a year, thanks to Actually Popular Sites), the goodwill of other bloggers who have emailed me, and the explosion of advertising site revenue -- from none to, well, some! -- I have to tell the truth.
No One Believes In Us.
Now, don't tell me I'm performing a completely transparent and obvious motivational ploy that started as Tired and has now gone all the way to Exhausted. I'm serious. I see the way you people use the site, and how no one thinks we can keep delivering the goods without an Eagles playoff run to inspire us. I've heard the haters talk about how the only thing that drive site traffic numbers is hacky lists. I've noticed how few of you wear the Garment of Greatness in your daily lives, how catch-phrase worthy moments like calling ESPN "The World Wide Lemur" and fans of a specific team as if they were all the same guy (Eagle Fan, Cowboy Fan, etc.) hasn't been attributed with full royalties to this here site.
Frankly, it makes me sick. But that's OK, because we're just going to use that as the Fire to Get Better.
So our plan is to use that blatant disrespect in the near future to:
> Jump on the Steelers Bandwagon in a way that will make even their most regrettable fans wince, and not just because I'm 4-6 in my playoff picks, carry 30+ years of Bad Eagles Karma, and am specifically doubting the power of Kurt Warner's God
> Use a ridiculous amount of fantasy baseball prep work to ruin my own draft and improve yours
> Provide at least one, and maybe even two, NHL pieces for the both of you that like that sort of thing
> Cover the Brett Favre Deathwatch as we move into its final, most thrilling decade
> Blogroll and beg for links like a motivated independent contractor working with the ODB
So come one, come all, come often, send links, and watch us prove all of the doubters wrong. We relish the opportunity to become the biggest and bestus site in all of Blogfrica, and when that happens... well, some of you will probably still refuse to give us the props we feel we deserve. You're just like that, you unnamed and mostly nonexistent people. (Yes, you are. Might as well just admit it.)
All I know is that when I look into the eyes of everyone in this clubhouse, these are the people I choose to go to blog with. Now, if you all will excuse us, we're going to scream in each other's faces, pound our fists on each other's equipment (no, it's *so not* what you are thinking), smash our skulls into the lockers and, Dammit, come out writing.
Or, um, well, not.
You know it's a slow week in the sports blogosphere when a half dozen writers feel compelled to tell us what it's like to watch the Round Mound of Renown play bad golf.
Look, I loves me some Chuck more than anyone, and have done so since he was a pogo-stick action figure for the late model Erving Sixers. You won't find a bigger fan, or a defender of the fact that while he's a motormouth, 90 to 95% of what he says is true, and the rest is mostly said to just get a rise out of people. I even forgive him for doing everything short of painting Trade Me on himself to get away from the piss-poor Sixers, and for never failing to abuse his "replacements" on that team like they owed him money.
But here's the thing... why aren't there *more* celeb-athletes like the Chuckster?
It's not like many of them don't have FU Money, which is really the biggest thing that has made Chuck what he is. It's not that there isn't a wide number of folks who haven't found Jebus, and hence, feel fine about picking up the tab for bar-wide rounds of Patron. It's not as if they all don't, to a man, envy him for the product endorsements and award-winning television show gig.
I'm not expecting everyone to become telegenic and comfortable enough in their own skin to play the fool for fun and profit from time to time. I'm just wondering why more of this favored class doesn't seem to get the essential reason why people love Chuck -- which is that Chuck loves life, and especially his. And why wouldn't you?
Chris Webber, if he had half the sense that Chuck does, would be doing a commercial series for a timepiece company making fun of his misstep in the NCAA championship. Dikembe Mutumbo would get on a rap album and speak in a finely clipped British accent. Michael Jordan would get himself back on Saturday Night Live and let them have at it. Etc., etc. But no one does, because unlike Chuck, they've made the terrible mistake of taking life seriously, even though they are rich beyond the dreams of men. And for the life of me, I can't understand why. Don't they realize that Chuck's beating them in this, well, living thing?
Don Imus says he's being misunderstood, not racist, when he asks what color Adam "Mr." Jones is, after hearing of his various arrests and lack of Pac-Mania.
Adam "Mr." Jones then says he's praying for Imus.
No, seriously.
A quick question for all of the readers who consider themselves religious... isn't "I'm praying for you" one of the nicest ways to insult someone, or is that just my jaded ears working? (In a way, oddly, that "You're in our prayers" is not.)
In any event... this Small Moment of Hate is brought to you by Vengeful Jebus, who smites those that drag him into Grade-Z celebrity dustups. Beware the wrath of Vengeful Jebus!
Your list is here, and consider this one a public service for all of the other bloggers out there that are hurting for stuff to write about this week.
(Not me, though. I'm actually hurting for time to write in the first place... Besides, there's all that stuff I wrote over the weekend. Go read that already, you relentless reading machines.)
Don over at the very strong With Malice asked me to throw him some words, and I did. It's the only place you're going to read a sentence that has the words MVP and Stephen Jackson in close proximity.
Also, he's paying me in yen, which I assume is worth more than US dollars by now. (Finally, it should be noted that expanding our presence in the Pacific Rim is a key point to our dreams of world domination, and if I can just get Japanese schoolgirls wearing FTT shirts, I'll die happy -- and so will you. Admit it.)
Your list of fighting words is here, and it's got almost 20% new content from the Quasi Live Blogs. If that's not worth a click, I don't know what is, people!
Seriously, though, can we put to bed the idea that Dead Teammate, Paralyzed Teammate, Jebus or Defending Your Maligned Turf can actually matter at all to the outcome of a game? We hold these truths to be self-evident: football games are won by the teams with better coaching and more talent, with perhaps some luck involved as well. Every other factor need not apply.
First Jebus wins the Heisman, and now Wolverine Fan needs to pose and adorn his cat. Someone tell me again why anyone watches this? (Oh, right, because too many markets don't have pro football, and will take any weak substitute. I keep forgetting.)
