Scary when professional athletes' homes are the subject of vandalism and draws into question privacy issues as well as the line between a fan and a fucking idiot.
After Buffalo's fucking terrible loss Monday to those assholes from Boston, in which McKelvin couldn't hold onto the football, some one thought he should be reminded of it by defacing his lawn.
An artist's rendering is below:
Instead the vandal drew a penis and not a spaceship.
In South America you get killed for something like this. So some graffiti ain't exactly life-threatening, but it does draw into question the privacy of the players and all that bullshit that you can read on a website that is more politically correct.
Drawing penises is funny, as evident in Superbad, so maybe the vandal was Jonah Hill or some one else fascinated with drawing dicks. Regardless, McKelvin's privacy was violated, he needs to protect his family and he needs to learn how to fucking accept a touchback.
The following is written by David Kamoe, a life-long sports fan whose sister is a close friend. David is an avid A's fan, wen to to high school with Drew Gooden and can't believe that Giants commentator Mike Krukow used to refer to the right-centerfield expanse at Pac Bell Park as "Finley Alley," referring to Steve Finley who remarkably wore a Giants uniform for a season. David will likely be stopping by these parts a few times a month, so treat him right. And no sister jokes.
When the Oakland Alameda County Coliseum opened its turnstiles to East Bay baseball fans, there were two voices booming loudly. In the broadcast booth, it was Monty Moore detailing the exploits of the likes of Jim “Catfish” Hunter throwing a perfect game and “helping his own cause” by getting three RBI. A few rooms over, a bushy-haired man sat booming the names to the fans below. That man: Roy Steele.
Dubbed “The Voice of God” by Jon Miller, Steele has been the voice of the Oakland Athletics since 1968. He is the West Coast version of the Yankees Bob Sheppard. Like Sheppard, however, Steele is no longer able to work the Coliseum’s Public Address System.
As a young A’s fan in the late '80s, I can distinctly remember the names of Mark McGwire and Dave Henderson echoing through the Coliseum. It always highlighted the experience of sitting in the stands at the Coliseum. Not to mention the fact that A’s were consistently contending for the Commissioner’s Trophy (World Series Trophy) each year. I have never had the opportunity to meet Roy Steele but I would like very much do.
The reason for this is simple: I met Bill King in 2004 during Spring Training. This is the first and only time I’ve met an announcer in any sport. Because I was a bit out of the loop sports wise, my lauding of Bill King did not resonate the way it should. It also hurt his cause that I wasn’t hearing him broadcast Warriors or Raiders games when I was a kid.
Roy Steele, on the other hand, has been a constant voice I have heard throughout my childhood. I like Dick Callahan -- the current voice of the Coliseum and the Cal Bears -- well enough. He is a jovial sort and does a good job. The problem is that he is the unenviable position of following Roy Steele.
The same is true of Vince Cotroneo who was hired by the A’s after Bill King’s untimely passing in 2005. I can only think of one situation in which the man following a legend did so without a “bump in the road”: Harry Kalas.
In addition to having been the voice of the Phillies since 1971, Kalas became the full-time voice of NFL films after John Facenda passed in 1984. Facenda created many of the great voice over moments in the history of NFL films. For Bay Area purposes, one of his greatest was “The Autumn Wind is a Raider.” The combination of the musical score and Facenda’s voice is what Hawaiians call a “chicken skin” moment.
This only one moment in a sea of other, slower transitions from one voice to another. Like many things, I just miss “The Voice of God” as it hearkens back to a simpler time when Dave Henderson’s name boomed through the stands.
The first game of the season has the potential to be the best day of the year for bad teams: It is likely the only time they won't have a losing record.
So for the Cincinnati Bengals and Buffalo Bills, two teams not expected to be competitive in 2009, Week 1 had the potential to be so uplifting that it could've altered the fate of their seasons. Both had commanding leads in the waning minutes. A 1-0 record within reach.
Then...disaster.
First this:
Then this:
BOTH. SEASONS. ARE. OVER.
That's probably a given. Those are unfathomable losses. But which is worse?
The Case for Cincinnati: The Bengals had a one-point lead with .28 seconds left after scoring a go-ahead touchdown and had Denver backed up inside the 15. And then they gave up one of the flukiest plays we've seen in a long while, which essentially ended the game. Cincinnati didn't even get a real shot to counter Denver's score.
The Case for Buffalo: They had the preseason Super Bowl favorite all-but beat. Up 24-13 with 5:32 to go, all the Bills had to do was not fuck things up. Then they fucked things up. After giving up a late score, Leodis McKelvin fielded the ensuing kickoff, didn't kneel it despite receiving the kick on his back foot in the end zone, then fought for extra yards which resulted in a fumble. The Pats recovered and did what the Pats do when they recover fumbles with about a minute left: They scored the fucking touchdown and won the game.
We don't have a good answer on this. Cincinnati's loss is clearly worse, but Denver is supposed to be worse than they are, so really, they should've had the game wrapped up earlier. Buffalo had a win on the road against the best team in football and gave the game away.
Help us decide, football fans. Your pick in the comments.
Most mornings, we'll lead off the day with some AM headlines -- but not your traditional ones. Rather we'll focus on one game or story and write headlines that are completely inconsequential and insignificant to the outcome of the game. We'll give a few examples and then you'll play in the comments. Best headline (read: the one that makes us laugh the hardest) will get a shoutout in this space the next day. We'll provide the box score for the game as that can lend itself to plenty of content. Let's have some fun. The more insignificant, the better!
Really not a good way to start the season for Cincy. That kinda sucks. And the Bengals were going to be very bad anyway, so this isn't good. The Bengals could be the '08 Lions. This is not good at all. Why doesn't this happen to New England? We suppose the answer to that would be that the Pats would be leading by more than a point at home against the lowly Broncos. But, eesh, what a horrible way to lose. LOVE Johnson's call, though.
Our friends friends Busted Coverage were in Columbus for USC's win over Ohio State Saturday. The Buckeyes' play was underwhelming, as expected, but we'll tip our cap to the OSU students for creativity.
If you root for Oregon (UO) or Oklahoma (OU) -- funny how acronyms work -- you've probably got reacquainted with your pal Jack Daniels and your other buddies Smith & Wesson this week.
Really about as shitty as an opening game can be. Which, though, was worse?
The case for Oregon: Loses one of its best players for the year (LeGarrette Blount), the offense looks average at best and "image" is now more of a concern than fixing the spread option.
The case for Oklahoma: Now has an uphill battle getting back to the BCS title game (will need to win out and probably get help) and isn't exactly sure how long Sam Bradford will be sidelined.
Also, very bad, were the weekends for Blount and Bradford. Bradford, a virtual lock to be the top pick in the 2010 NFL Draft, sees his elite draft status possibly in limbo and can kiss a second Heisman goodbye.
Blount now might not be running on Sundays and can kiss the 2009 season goodbye. But Blount does have one good thing going for him. Orson of EDSBS fame puts it best:
He’s as completely suspended as Byron Hout was completely bitchmade by Blount’s sucker punch. Unsportsmanlike? Oh, certainly. Dirty? Completely, yes, but shit, would you so much as step on Blount’s shadow without his permission now? Somewhere he and Ron Artest are walking through a suburban mall right now punching people in the face randomly and talking about how awesome smoothies are.
Smoothies are the fucking balls.
Whose season will get ruined this week?
Games broken down on a one-to-four-bunny scale:
Four bunnies means: "Put the condom away. Tell the hottie that you're busy. Don't go dancing with Misty and her six hot, single friends. Grab a seat on the couch. Pull out some cold ones and nachos. Park your ass for three and a half hours and only pee at halftime."
Three bunnies means: "Misty and her six hot, single friends are welcome to come over and have some drinks, but going out is not yet an option. The couch is still your friend and give it the respect that it deserves." Two bunnies means: "It's snowing outside, there are no good movies in the theaters and you just got a new Flat Screen. Better put it to use."
One bunny means: "Yikes. You're scared of catching Swine Flu, you hate your dog and you burn easily on cloudy days. You wanna prove that you can, in fact, sit on your ass and watch college football for 12 hours."
Let's do this! All times Eastern.
No. 3 USC at No. 8 Ohio State, 8 p.m., ESPN
The Big 10, year after year, pretends to have an elite team just for them to be exposed by better teams from better conferences when it counts. Look at Ohio State the last, shit, 10 years. The Big 10 has lost its last six Rose Bowls and hasn't won one in nine years. I would put money on a mid-tier SEC team dropping the best Big 10 squad at a neutral site.
So despite the Buckeyes being at home, despite Terrell Pryor being similar to Vince Young and despite Jim Tressel's sweater vest, there is no valid reason why anyone should think that Ohio State can win this game. USC 38, Ohio State 14.
None. Fuck.
No. 18 Notre Dame at Michigan, 3:30 p.m., ABC:
I think that if somehow these teams were both equally embarrassed, at the same time, by each other, on the same day (tough task), the sun would shine brighter on Sunday. Notre Dame 28, Michigan 24.
UCLA at Tennessee, 4 p.m., ESPN.
Lane Kiffin's a douchebag. Rick Neuheisel's a douchebag. Something's gotta give. Tennessee 41, UCLA 30.
1 oz 1800 Tequila 2 oz cranberry juice 1 splash fresh lime juice
Shake the tequila, cranberry juice and the lime juice in a cocktail shaker half-filled with ice cubes. Strain into a salt-rimmed cocktail glass with a lime wedge, and serve.
This awesomely-named drink doesn't look the part, but should be perfect for girlie-girls and UCLA fans. Drink these in honor of those sodomized.
Helmet Sticker of the Week:
Michigan
These are new, yes? I can't decide if I like them or not but I don't think I do and I don't like Michigan. So fuck you, Rich Rodriguez.
Hot Student Section of the Week:
Clemson Tigers
South Carolina can fly any flag it likes as long as it has girls like this! (Not really, though. That's a pretty backwards state).
The game you should bet your paycheck on. Army over Duke (pick). Duke couldn't beat it's fucking basketball team. Give me the Cadets Black Knights without points on the board.
Whoa, whoa. Who the fuck are the Black Knights? What happened to the Cadets? You can't just change your fucking mascot when you've been around since fucking 1802.
2009 Bet It Hard Record: 1-0
Pac-10 Player That I Want to Hang With a Fucking Jump Rope:
LeGarrette Blount, RB, Oregon
Think about the fantasy implications before you go off and get all assault-y, bro. This is the equivalent to Adrian Peterson tearing his ACL in Week 1 except if he was still in college and cold cocked a bitch.
Jacory Harris is going to win this award. He's the next Gino Torretta.
Coach whose ass is burning:
1. Greg Robinson, Syracuse. Greg Paulus won't save you, man. 2. Al Groh, Virginia. Love the crew-neck sweatshirt. Don't love losing to William & Mary. 3. Charlie Weis, Notre Dame. Beat Michigan and people will stop talking about your job security and instead recollect your weight-loss surgery.
Fight Song that Gives Me a Slight Boner:
Florida's The Orange and the Blue
I'm getting really fucking sick of hearing this tune in BCS games. Someone take out Tebow's legs already.
Babe of the Week:
Nichole Jackson
Hi there, Nichole with an H. Nice to meet you. I like college football and sex. Do you wanna have sex and watch college football?
Well folks, the NFL season is finally upon us and as luck would have it Zach and myself, contributor JMC, are already matched up in our fantasy league for Week 1. Zach already whined about his team, and now we get to see the first team he'll lose to. Take a look at the matchup and make your predictions in the comments. Full disclosure: I had the 1st pick (and hence, the 20th), while Zach had the 5th and 16th, and so on.
The following is written by David Kamoe, a life-long sports fan whose sister is a close friend. David is an avid A's fan, wen to to high school with Drew Gooden and can't believe that Giants commentator Mike Krukow used to refer to the right-centerfield expanse at Pac Bell Park as "Finley Alley," referring to Steve Finley who remarkably wore a Giants uniform for a season. David will likely be stopping by these parts a few times a month, so treat him right. And no sister jokes.
One of the great phrases of all-time was whoever first referred to the NFL as the “No Fun League.” The fact that there are “uniform police” in the NFL borders on the fully ridiculous. One of the best examples of this was Jon Kitna getting fined by the NFL because he wasn’t wearing a Bengals hat during his post game press conference. Never mind that the hat was orange, it was more that it was religious. That is a different argument for a different time. What bothers me is not the NFL and its “uniform police.” What pisses me off is the lack of a “uniform police” in Major League Baseball.
I don’t know who first started wearing the uniform pants all the way to the shoe tops but has to stop. I could argue that this is a safety issue because people like Manny Ramirez look like he’s going to trip over himself. The issue is the disappearance of the stirrup sock. What is the stirrup sock you ask? It is generally a solid color sock worn over a “sanitary sock.” The A’s, for example, wore a green stirrup sock over a gold sanitary sock. The Cardinals wear the “barber pole” socks favored by Brendan Ryan and others. Most of the stirrup socks, however, were a simple solid color.
I realize that the authoritarian nature of league officials is bad for sports. No one wants to have people telling Jon Kitna what hat to wear or Wayne Gretzky how to tape his stick. What is at stake here is the definition of the word “uniform.” As I have heard one Adam Carolla yell on a few occasions, it is about “uniformity” or “sameness.”
I want people to wear stirrup socks because it is a safety issue. Take the aforementioned Manny Ramirez. The way he wears his uniform makes it look as though it is at least two sizes two big. This is compounded by the fact that the cuffs of his pant hang low over the back of his cleats. I can’t remember what Mr. Ramirez’s contract is worth, but I doubt Frank McCourt, Ned Colletti, or Joe Torre would like to see him blow out his ACL because he tripped over his pants.
On a selfish level, the stirrup sock look is a classic look that further makes each team unique. From the Kelly green and Fort Knox gold of the A’s to the Oriole orange, stirrup socks were an extra reminder of the team’s colors. Frankly, my only regret is that the Giants used to wear black stirrup sock but white and not orange sanitary socks.
There is hope on the horizon. A’s rookie pitcher Josh Outman donned the traditional A’s stirrup socks and showcased them to the general sporting public until he was shelved by surgery on his pitching elbow. I know one person can’t reverse a trend, so if Manny Ramirez wouldn’t mind tripping while rounding first, “That’d be great.”
It's not easy getting a foul ball. Some people go to hundreds of games and leave with nothing but a lighter wallet. If you're lucky enough to be in foul-ball range, here's some proper etiquette to make sure you don't get jumped in the parking lot.
6a. Put down your fucking beer if you're serious about getting a ball.
There are three beers in that picture, two of which will surely spill on someone who won't get the ball. Put the beer down, put on your glove and act like a professional.
6b. Bring a glove -- if you don't, get the fuck out of the way.
Like seriously, bring a glove. People will think you're a true fan and not some corporate schmuck who is giving downtown ballparks a bad name.
5. Don't steal the ball from the kid when the umpire tosses it in the stands.
That poor girl doesn't stand a chance at getting the ball. If you're making a leaping grab on an Albert Pujols liner, fine. But when the ump casually tosses the ball to the crowd in between innings, let the little kid have the glory. Baseball is for the kids, after all.
4. If you chase a ball down the aisle in section 406 during a day game at Dolphin Stadium, do not pat yourself on the back.
I could get a foul ball in the nosebleeds at Marlins game while simultaneously jerking off, online shopping and making a peanut butter sandwich. If you happen to get an easy one, sit right back down and enjoy the rest of the game.
3. If you make a good catch, don't jump up and down like an idiot; act like you've been there before.
You've brought your glove, are in position and then Matt Kemp rips one in your vicinity and you leap and get it! Great catch, dude, but you didn't help the home team win. Enjoy the applause as you happily sit down without making a scene.
2. When do you have to give the ball to a kid?
Tough question. Let's decipher this from a few angles:
If you're at the game with your kid:
ALWAYS give the ball to your kid. Wanna pay for years of therapy down the road? Fuck. No. Make a leaping one-handed grab? And it's your FIRST EVER?!?! Give it to your kid.
If you don't have kids, but there's a kid sitting close by:
1. Make a leaping one-handed grab? And it's your FIRST EVER?!?! It's yours. Keep it, frame it and send a text to your GF who won't give two fucks that you caught a foul ball.
2. The ball bounces off three people, rolls down the aisle and it accidentally lands in your hand? Your call. But karma says give it to the kid. If not, a flat tire's coming your way.
3. The ball bounces off the kid's glove right in front of you, rolls down the aisle and accidentally lands in your hand? No-brainer. Give it to the kid.
If it's Adults-Only Night and there is no kid anywhere in the stadium.
Doesn't matter the circumstances. Give it to your girlfriend. You might actually get laid.
1. Don't pull a Bartman.
If you reach into the field of play,
1. Leave the stadium immediately 2. Find the nearest train tracks 3. Wait 4. Keep waiting 5. Stare the train down 6. Move at the last minute. 7. (If a repeat offender) don't move at the last minute.
We're not quite sure who Tila Tequila is and why she does what she does, but Shawne Merriman probably shouldn't be banging her (she probably has an entire village of insects down there, bro) and he probably shouldn't have tried to strangle her despite her being fucking obnoxious.
She's not even really hot. She weighs like 89 pounds, so there could be advantages to that. She's the type you could probably bang upside down against a palm tree while a family of four watched. But, wait, what? WHO THE FUCK IS TILA TEQUILA? It shows she had a lot of friends on MySpace. We have like 140 friends on Twitter. And we want nothing to do with Merriman and his assault-hawk.
It was the late 90s (early 200s?) where the first round of most fantasy football drafts saw quarterback after quarterback go.
Then things switched the last few years, with the emphasis on running backs. Popular draft strategies in our leagues the last few years would take running backs with your top three picks.
Now things have changed again because NFL coaches want to do everything possible to fuck you in a fantasy league. Oh, you're going to get Donald Brown involved? Fantastic. Fuck you with a lead a pipe.
And, maybe it's just us, but there aren't as many really good players as there used to be. Marshall Faulk, Priest Holmes, Daunte Culpepper...these guys were STUDS! Now we have decent NFL players elevated to elite fantasy status because they're in the right system. Matt Forte is not that good of a player. Neither is Chris Johnson.
Now, because of the shared backfields and lack of great talent, you have the top receivers going in the first round of some drafts. Seems weird drafting a guy who theoretically could go a full game without touching the ball. And everyone says to avoid QBs in the early rounds, maybe because there is such depth. But Matt Schaub is not going to win you much of anything.
Fuck all of this. WE HATE OUR TEAM. IT IS FUCKING TERRIBLE. (We'd masturbate to our bench, though! Beanie Wells, Michael Jenkins, Matt Schaub, Donald Brown, Steve Smith NYG and Glen Coffee). We should've drafted a kicker, defense and tight end with our first three picks. Instead you can figure out what we did by looking at the above graphic.
How'd we do? Marshall Faulk wasn't eligible to pick. Bummer.
Most mornings, we'll lead off the day with some AM headlines -- but not your traditional ones. Rather we'll focus on one game or story and write headlines that are completely inconsequential and insignificant to the outcome of the game. We'll give a few examples and then you'll play in the comments. Best headline (read: the one that makes us laugh the hardest) will get a shoutout in this space the next day. We'll provide the box score for the game as that can lend itself to plenty of content. Let's have some fun. The more insignificant, the better!
Remember Would you do... cheerleader Jaclyn? She competed in the WYD Round 3 tournament and made it to the Final Four before being ousted by eventual champion Meghan.
It looks like Jaclyn, who, turns out, has a last name, has parlayed her Would you do... fame into a Web show for the Nets. Below is one of the episodes. You can thank reader Frigidevil for the jerk material. Happy Friday fuckers!
The following is written by David Kamoe, a life-long sports fan whose sister is a close friend. David is an avid A's fan, wen to to high school with Drew Gooden and can't believe that Giants commentator Mike Krukow used to refer to the right-centerfield expanse at Pac Bell Park as "Finley Alley," referring to Steve Finley who remarkably wore a Giants uniform for a season. David will likely be stopping by these parts a few times a month, so treat him right. And no sister jokes.
So the Winnipeg Blue Bombers have a new defensive back in one Adam “Pacman” Jones. Now Adam is a Georgia native who went to college at West Virginia. It snows on occasion in West “Fuckin” Virginia and in Morgantown, in specific. But this is “The Great White North” and the province that brought us Monty Hall. With that in mind, here are a few quick tips for Adam.
1. Winnipeg is located in Manitoba which is one of Canada’s 13 provinces.
2. The Canadian equivalent of the dollar is called a loonie and is a coin. You cannot “Make it Rain” with coins.
3. When people in Winnipeg refer to the “Jets”, they will not make any reference to Ken O’Brien.
4. DO NOT BADMOUTH WAYNE GRETZKY!!!
5. Yes, that is curling on TV.
6. Canadians are generally a friendly people but making fun of hockey is not advised.
7. Canadians also play rugby quite a bit. If you thought Hines Ward hit hard, try getting in a scrum.
8. The man with the loud suits on CBC at 8:00EST on Saturdays during hockey season is not, I repeat not, Howard Cosell or Craig Sager.
9. Make sure you have many warm coats/anoraks.
10. The head of the Canadian government is Prime Minister Steven Harper.
11. DO NOT BADMOUTH JOHN CANDY!!!
12. Canadian beer is stronger than beer “in the States.”
13. There are three downs in the CFL.
14. The field is 150 yards long and 65 yards wide.
15. The Grey Cup, much like its hockey counterpart the Stanley Cup, is larger and weighty. Should you and the Blue Bombers win one, make sure to lift with your knees.
Bonne chance, Monsieur Jones. While you are in Winnipeg, please remember that you are representing the United States to a small extent. As someone who likes Canada quite a bit, I would appreciate it if I didn’t hear that you and Link Gaetz are having a boxing match.
Welcome back, you sexy bitch of a college football season. I've missed you. Come here. Give Daddy a little kiss. No, not there...
Whew. College fucking football! Back. The beginning. This is the point of the year when we have the most college football available. Fan-fucking-tastic.
With college football infiltrating our homes once again, The Big Picture is your Pre-Gaming home every Friday through Bowl Season. (Though we're running it Thursday this week because there's a big fucking Northwest bukkake fest tonight!)
I did this for PlayboyU.com last season, however with Hef only splurging for Viagra and new tits for his girlfriends, The Big Picture is your exclusive home for Pre-Gaming. (Read: I'm not getting paid to write this anymore. Fuck! But at least I got a Cyber Club Pass out of the deal!) You'll notice the Playboy theme of the column, which will stay the same because college football fans also like tits. Hey, it was either Bunnies or helmet stickers, so you're welcome very much.
Welcome back if you've been here before, if not, welcome, and let's get this shit started right! Some fun Week 1 match ups that I'll dissect without real insight and rather with cock jokes and swear words. College football is back, baby! I'm excited. Are you?
Games broken down on a one-to-four-bunny scale:
Four bunnies means: "Put the condom away. Tell the hottie that you're busy. Don't go dancing with Misty and her six hot, single friends. Grab a seat on the couch. Pull out some cold ones and nachos. Park your ass for three and a half hours and only pee at halftime."
Three bunnies means: "Misty and her six hot, single friends are welcome to come over and have some drinks, but going out is not yet an option. The couch is still your friend and give it the respect that it deserves." Two bunnies means: "It's snowing outside, there are no good movies in the theaters and you just got a new Flat Screen. Better put it to use."
One bunny means: "Yikes. You're scared of catching Swine Flu, you hate your dog and you burn easily on cloudy days. You wanna prove that you can, in fact, sit on your ass and watch college football for 12 hours."
Opening Week. FUCK and YES! All times Eastern.
No. 5 Alabama vs. No. 7 Virginia Tech, in Atlanta, 8 p.m., ABC
This will have the feel of a Sugar Bowl, except it's only September, the ACC doesn't often play in the Sugar Bowl and this game is being played in Atlanta.
Nonetheless, big-time feel from Week 1. Last year Alabama used Week 1 to make a statement by crushing another ACC foe, then No. 9 Clemson, while Va. Tech was shocked by East Carolina. Winner of this game is an instant National Championship contender. The loser? I have a feeling, if this game gets ugly, that they'll lose five games and fire some coordinators.
I couldn't tell you much about these teams except John Parker Wilson's ancestors probably were slave owners (and he's no longer at 'Bama) and the Hokies' Darren Evans has a boo-boo that a Band-Aid won't fix. It's going to be physical, rough and there will probably be 27 punts. BUT PRIMETIME BABY! Alabama 17, Virginia Tech 13.
Remember when Georgia was the preseason No. 1 last year and they weren't very good because everyone thought Matthew Stafford was really good but he threw a five-yard slant about 40 yards down field? Yeah, last year didn't work out so well. But the last time the Bulldogs had to replace a strong starting backfield was 2005 and nobody thought UGA would be good and then they won the SEC, which you have to be good to do.
Stillwater will be rocking, but the SEC is knocking. (Fuck me sideways for writing that).Georgia 28, Oklahoma St. 24
Check it out: you can create your own Oregon uniform combination. That's pretty fun. You could play there for like five minutes. I liked the all white. The wings, though, are a big fucking mistake.
I once interviewed Broncos QB Kellen Moore when he was in high school. He was very polite but was a terrible quote. Oregon 42, Boise State 30.
No. 3 Oklahoma vs. No. 20 BYU, in Dallas, 7 p.m., ESPN.
Miami at No. 18 Florida State, Monday, 8 p.m., ABC:
This rivalry is missing a brawl. Like a big one. When FSU and The U meet I feel like it's all talk, but no follow through. Fuck that. Follow through. I'm certainly looking your way, Miami, to start this. Florida State 24, Miami 14.
No. 11 LSU at Washington, 10:15 p.m., ESPN.
This is probably the only time winless-in-'08 UW will be able to get in this column, so love for the Alma mater is necessary. Washington 274, LSU -6.
Colorado State at Colorado, Sunday, 7 p.m., No TV?. Shouldn't this rivalry have a name? Oh. It does. The Rocky Mountain Showdown? Yeah. That makes sense. Colorado 17, Colorado State 10.
Tailgate Beverage of the Week:
Gin and Tonic
2 oz. gin 5 oz tonic water 1 lime wedge
Pour the gin and the tonic water into a highball glass almost filled with ice cubes. Stir well. Garnish with the lime wedge.
I recommend using either Tanq or Bombay. Beefeater is for 70-year-olds and people with fucked up accents.
Helmet Sticker of the Week:
Ohio State
One of the classics, this helmet must look empty if you suck. If you look closely, the sticker sorta resembles a pot leaf. Coincidence? Ask Maurice Clarett.
Hot Student Section of the Week:
LSU Tigers
Will she be in Seattle, Saturday? It looks like she has some friends, too.
The game you should bet your paycheck on. Nevada at Notre Dame (-14.5). Notre Dame, unfortunately, is going to be "back" this year which upsets just about anyone outside of South Bend and Catholicism. But the Irish should be good. Nevada not so much. The Wolfpack don't still have Nick Fazekas, do they?
2009 Bet It Hard Record: 0-0
Pac-10 Player That I Want to Hang With a Fucking Jump Rope:
Pete Carroll, coach, USC
I play in a Pac-10-only fantasy league. I might as well burn a 10-dollar bill. But it gives me reason to root for Arizona State's kicker.
And now Carroll can't give me consistency at running back, so rather than draft a stud, I'm stuck with a second-stringer who will probably get hurt by the second quarter of Saturday's game.
Stop platooning, you fucking asshole.
Heisman Watch:
1. Tim Tebow, QB, Florida 2. Colt McCoy, QB, Texas 3. Sam Bradford, QB, Oklahoma
These will be the only three guys that matter all year. This order will probably change on a weekly basis. Nod to Tebow because he's the best player on the best team. He still probably hasn't had sex.
Fight Song that Gives Me a Slight Boner:
USC's Tribute to Troy
Dun dun dun dun...
(Fight On, meanwhile, is for pussies and, seemingly, anytime USC runs an offensive play).
Babe of the Week:
Hillary Fisher
Wow! That hands-over-the-boobs things is so hot and so frustrating at the same time. Just slide them down, darling. Your hips are nice to hold onto too.
Some guys are into a girl who loves sports. She'll watch the ballgame with you, talk strategy with you over Grilled Salmon and Pilaf and bang you while wearing a football jersey.
I am not one of those guys. Hearing a chick talk about sports is about as much of a turnoff as unshaven armpits after a trip to the gym.
And it doesn't stem from the, "A girl should be girlie and talk about shopping and makeup and Rachel Getting Married" argument. It more comes from the fact that I have a hard time telling a girl she's fucking wrong.
I was talking to one of my girlfriend's friends the other night. The Giants game was on and I was watching closely. The friend then starts saying how frustrating it is when the Giants keep giving up so many runs and the offense better keep up this offensive output if they want to compete in the AL West. And it's a good thing Sandoval's been pitching well lately.
BITCH, YOU ARE WRONG! (I smiled and nodded my head).
It's nice that a girl wants to keep up, but dammit, I know far too much about sports to be talking to a girl about it. (Eeesh, did I just go there).
In all fairness, there are women who know sports well and can talk a good game. I've never met this woman, but I'm sure she exists outside of REM sleep.
The girls I know -- even the ones dubbed "sports fans" -- just can't keep up, though. And I don't expect them to. I've wasted more days, years and living-room furniture over sports than I care to think about. Girls just don't have that sorta time. They have to paint their toenails and shit.
I'm an asshole and I have no idea how to talk to girls. That's already established. But I really don't know how to talk to a girl about sports. Because it's frustrating for me to hear about UNC's historic football program, how Brett Favre will do good things this year for the Packers and how maybe this will be the Royals' year.
Sweetheart, this won't be the Royals' year. Why don't you go watch The Notebook and make some crab cakes?
Did you know that Erin Andrews hasn't been on TV since her "incident" where she was hardly visible through blurry lines, yet was naked and then the Internet pounced and thus there was an "incident?" She hasn't. Cause and effect, too. That seems a bit unnecessary.
Yet Andrews recently went on Oprah to talk about this horrible incident where she was hardly visible through blurry lines and will try to put this behind her.
ESPN reporter Erin Andrews said in an interview with Oprah Winfrey that having secretly videotaped nude footage of her distributed on the Internet was a "nightmare."
Scary. Like that dream where you're falling. Or being chased. Or where you have to pull the trigger to shoot the bad guy but you don't have the strength to pull the trigger because you're in REM sleep. Or the dream where you're naked in public...Oh. Hmm.
Andrews also tells Winfrey she "opened up the computer [and] could feel my heart pounding."
Who knows who may have seen the video of her as she was hardly visible through blurry lines? What if her dad saw it? Oh no!
Andrews will be working on air Thursday night for the first time since the video became widespread news. She'll be the sideline reporter for ESPN's broadcast of South Carolina at North Carolina State.
Ooh, South Carolina vs. NC State. Could be OK. What will Spurrier have up his leave? NC State hasn't been good in a while. Who are we kidding? This game isn't going to be very good at all. Probably will try to get in some Netflix instead. Or maybe read a book. Reading books is way underrated, yet we feel people -- including us -- don't do it enough. There are some very good books out there. We should check them out. But the ones Oprah suggests are bullshit. Don't listen to her.
Anyways, Andrews has every right to file lawsuits and do legal stuff with lawyers and courts and Judge Judy, but it's over, you could hardly make out a boob, and nobody really cares anymore. Shouldn't we be making a bigger deal out of the fact that you're dating David Wright? Conflict of interest, man.
[Unrelated: We were sent some awesome sports keychains from Wholesale Keychains. They were awesome in a keychain kind of way. Whatever that means.]
Matt Ryan, pictured with eyes and ears on both side of his face, is said to be the most handsome NFL quarterback according to one of those studies that studies things that nobody really cares about.
According to researchers, his face is almost perfectly symmetrical -- a trait that shows a strong correlation to a person's perceived attractiveness. While the average person's face is somewhere around 90% symmetrical, Mr. Ryan scored a 99.8%, which puts him in elite territory.
Matt Ryan likely does just fine for himself; he's an NFL quarterback, took a team to the playoffs in his rookie year, and, gosh, what symmetry!
The list's top 10 is below and Tom Brady is eighth, Tony Romo is No. 23 and Matt Leinart isn't mentioned. Those guys all do pretty well when it comes to symmetrical women.
The Falcons are thought to compete in the NFC Sou...FUCK! Look at that symmetry! We'll be back in a while.
A big welcome back to pitcher Paul Byrd and his super-cool windup. Byrd, who hadn't pitched since last September, fired six scoreless innings for Boston in yesterday's win.
And after the game, he reminded us why people missed Paul Byrd (we don't think people actually missed Paul Byrd. But maybe some did. We did. Paul Byrd is our favorite pitcher in the history of pitchers. That's probably an overstatement but we're writing this Sunday night and we think there's a woodpecker inside our head. A really pissed-off woodpecker who's pecking like we just boinked his daughter):
''I'm just so excited to be back. I want a World Series ring,'' he said. ''Hopefully I can help this team get there. I'll clean toilets if I have to, and I told them that.''
Fantastic. He'll clean toilets and pitch (full audio here). Take him up on that. He'd probably do a lousy job with the toilet rim, but Comet's a fucking miracle worker.
Cool. Paul Byrd. Toilets. We're gonna go sleep for 14 hours now and pork Mr. Woodpecker's daughter. We'll be more coherent tomorrow. Promise.
Most mornings, we'll lead off the day with some AM headlines -- but not your traditional ones. Rather we'll focus on one game or story and write headlines that are completely inconsequential and insignificant to the outcome of the game. We'll give a few examples and then you'll play in the comments. Best headline (read: the one that makes us laugh the hardest) will get a shoutout in this space the next day. We'll provide the box score for the game as that can lend itself to plenty of content. Let's have some fun. The more insignificant, the better!
We're a week away from the first full Saturday of games! That means tailgates, the Spread Option and sorority girls making football jerseys sexy again.
We'll get into college football here during the week and Friday we'll be kicking off what three people have said is the best college football column in the blogosphere. That might be misquoted. And it might have been two people.
So sit back, enjoy the Dog Days of Summer, enjoy the insanely hot Lauren and have a fucking fantastic weekend. Fall starts next week and that means the best sports season of the year. Gear up!
The following is written by David Kamoe, a life-long sports fan whose sister is a close friend. David is an avid A's fan, wen to to high school with Drew Gooden and can't believe that Giants commentator Mike Krukow used to refer to the right-centerfield expanse at Pac Bell Park as "Finley Alley," referring to Steve Finley who remarkably wore a Giants uniform for a season. David will likely be stopping by these parts a few times a month, so treat him right. And no sister jokes.
I am a fan of every Kevin Smith movie except Jersey Girl. To be fair though, Kevin Smith isn’t a fan of Jersey Girl and he directed it. One of Kevin Smith’s fine films is Mallrats, the first acting turn of My Name is Earl’s Jason Lee. During the movie, Jason Lee utters the following line: “Breakfast’s come and go Rene. Now Hartford? The Whale? Hey, they only beat Vancouver once maybe twice in a lifetime.”
The Whale to which Jason Lee refers is not Shamu nor Moby Dick but the Hartford Whalers Hockey Club. Added into the NHL from the WHL in 1979, the Whalers were the lone professional sports franchise in the state of Connecticut. For 18 years, they existed mainly as a franchise with a cool logo and their own theme song. Then came the year 1997 and the Whalers were taken away from Hartford. I do not remember this well as a young sports fan in California. I generally focused on football and baseball with a casual interest in basketball.
Seeing Mallrats introduced me to “The Whale” and in turn that Gordie Howe finished his illustrious career wearing a Whalers sweater. I also learned that the Hartford Whalers had become the Carolina Hurricanes. This annoys me as sports purist because I think of hockey as a sport played primarily in the 13 Canadian provinces and the upper Midwestern and New England United States. Proof of this can be found in the NCAA hockey teams routinely in the “Frozen Four.” Find me a UCLA, a “U-Dub” on that list and I’ll be very surprised.
This is a part of the larger question of the NHL being in far too many “Sunshine States” and the “Make it seven” campaign headed by Jim Balsillie from Research in Motion Ltd. I support M. Balsillie’s efforts and frankly think there should be eight teams in Canada again.
Then again, the city of Hartford threw a parade when “The Whale” made the playoffs one year. Made the playoffs! Toronto wouldn’t have people marching down Yonge Street and they haven’t won the Cup since 1967!
On the flipside, there was a recent New York Times article about fans in Hartford who still go out to the Hartford Civic Center wearing Whalers sweaters to see the local minor league team. Furthermore, a quick viewing of a University of Connecticut men’s basketball game will reveal Whalers banners still hanging from the rafters.
Put on the old 45 of “Brass Bonanza” Whalers fan. Maybe one day Gary Bettman will retire and someone smarter will bring back “The Whale.” Then Rene and Brodie can go to breakfast.
Hey kids, JMC here to tell you a cautionary tale: don't go to fucking Pasta fucking Pomodoro.
A few weeks back it was my girlfriend's birthday. She wasn't too happy about it either. You know, getting older can kinda make people grumpy. So the day was pretty much doomed to begin with because when my girlfriend is unhappy it makes the grim reaper look like a kitten and going to war in Iraq sound pretty fun.
We spent most of the day hungover having been to a pretty great wedding the night before, and never ended up doing much. I kept asking her (for weeks ahead of time) what she wanted to do and she never came up with anything. So finally here we are on the big day and we're having breakfast wraps at Starbucks and sitting on the couch most of the day. I took the day off work for this?
So dinner time rolls around and of course she hasn't decided where to go and doesn't want me to take her out to a nice restaurant because she's not feeling that great and is unhappy so why waste a nice dinner? Fuck me with a blunt object. Next thing I know she decides we're going to Pasta Pomodoro because she has a coupon for a free appetizer or dessert.
I fucking hate Pasta Pomodoro. The food is only okay, the service is mediocre, and the ambiance is nothing to write home about. And then it costs 40 bucks. But that's where we're going because she for some reason likes it. It must be the bread. The bread and that dipping sauce are actually pretty bomb.
So we drive out to PP (I'm calling it that from now on because it's less typing), and get a table. Luckily there was no wait. If there was a wait I probably would have jumped in front of a car. We sit down, eat the bread (best part of the night) and peruse the menu. We choose our entrees and then pick the polenta for our free appetizer. The waitress isn't nearly cute enough to get away with being as annoying as she is but manages to apparently take our order correctly. Of course I think we were sitting there for like five minutes before we had waters. Fucking PP. So we're sitting there and not really talking about anything and finally the food comes, except they fucked up and the polenta doesn't come out first. It is an appetizer, it is supposed to keep us from eating our napkins while we wait for the real food, it should be out there first. PP sucks.
They bring the polenta and the main course at the same time, or maybe the polenta was after the main course, either way it was fucked up. I'm at this point ready to go on Yelp and give this shit-hole zero stars or however you rank shit on Yelp. So my dinner is fine but of course there's something wrong with hers. She, in an effort to always make life more difficult, of course asked for her shit to be prepared in some special way, extra creamy sauce or something. And they gave her regular creamy sauce. She fucking sends it back. So we start eating the polenta and my food. My food is fine, but I could probably make pasta that's just as good at home for 12 cents. We try the polenta. It's bland and not very good but fine. The girlfriend decides there's something wrong with it and it's awful and horrible and can't be right. There's absolutely nothing wrong with this polenta except for the fact that it's polenta from PP and PP pretty much sucks so of course the polenta is going to be mediocre. But she's convinced there's something wrong with it and fucking sends it back. They offer to make it again and she declines. Her food comes back and this time it's right. She then eats two thirds of her dinner and decides to take the rest home.
So the waitress acts like a ditz, sort of apologizes for fucking up our whole dinner, and then sends the manager over. She also is not cute enough. She offers us free dessert in place of the crappy appetizer. The girlfriend declines. She then asks the manager to take something off the bill, and the manager says her entree will be free. Great, we can get the fuck out of this shitty restaurant. But wait, where's the leftover pasta? The waitress has taken it away instead of bringing a box. My girlfriend is on the verge of tears. I am ready to find a steak knife and tear open my abdomen. The waitress says she must have thrown it out, but she'll make us a new entree. Then she goes in the back and comes back out with the leftovers in a box. Its a miracle! She didn't throw it out after all. She probably just took it out of the garbage. And then spit in it. And got Karl with a K to jerk off into it. And then Karl with a K spit in it too.
So I pay the bill, which at this point is like 10 bucks since its just for one entree, score, and we get the fuck out. Great fucking birthday. Fuck you Pasta Pomodoro.
The following is written by David Kamoe, a life-long sports fan whose sister is a close friend. David is an avid A's fan, wen to to high school with Drew Gooden and can't believe that Giants commentator Mike Krukow used to refer to the right-centerfield expanse at Pac Bell Park as "Finley Alley," referring to Steve Finley who remarkably wore a Giants uniform for a season. David will likely be stopping by these parts a few times a month, so treat him right. And no sister jokes.
The infield of my youth was the 1989 World Champion Oakland Athletics featuring Mark David McGwire at first, Mike Gallego at second, Walt Weiss at short, and Carney Lansford at third. I still hold these men in high regard save McGwire who cannot be shown on film or in still photographs from his rookie year until the mid-90’s because of “the juice.” This will not be an article about the 1989 Oakland Athletics infield. It is instead about Carney Lansford and hitting.
Lansford is currently the hitting coach for the San Francisco Giants. One of the Giants bright young stars is Pablo Sandoval, a free-swinging 22-year old from Venezuela. Most of the Venezuelan major leaguers I can think of are not free swingers. People like Magglio Ordonez and Omar Vizquel are fairly patient hitters. Marco Scutaro is leading the Blue Jays in walks and ranks high in the AL lead for runs scored. Sandoval, on the other hand, is a disciple of the “You don’t walk off the island” mantra common to the Dominican Republic.
Highlighted in a recent Sports Illustrated column by Lee Jenkins, Sandoval was in A-ball with a cousin of Vladimir Guerrero. Whether or not Guerrero had a direct influence on Sandoval is not certain. What is certain is that Sandoval, like Guerrero will swing at anything close to the plate. This is much to the chagrin of Lansford who is quoted as saying, “We don’t have a lot of what I call ‘professional hitters.’”
Lansford does not stop Sandoval from free swinging but I’m guessing he is probably trying to curtail it. Lansford was himself a long time Major Leaguer playing for the Angels, Red Sox, and A’s. During his time in “the Nation,” Lansford re-worked his swing so that he could bang doubles off the Green Monster. Playing the original Coliseum, he became a gap-to-gap hitter with some pop and a masterful ability to cover the vast foul territory down the left field line.
As you can imagine, I am in the Carney Lansford camp all the way. It really isn’t even bad that Sandoval is a free swinger. What is the problem is that the Giants seem to have allowed free swinging to become the order of the day. As someone who remembers tales of Will Clark having 20-10 vision and dominating the 1989 NLCS, I can’t figure out the change. People harp on the Giants for not having a lot of power hitters since the departure of one Barry Lamar Bonds. I’m no studier of the Giants for the following reasons: I’m an A’s fan and I’m not being paid to follow the Giants.
Consequently, I cannot say for certain that all the Giants hitters are free swingers like Sandoval. What I do know is that if they are, it is not likely that they’ll go far in the playoffs.
The Rockies beat the Dodgers 5-4 in 10 innings last night after blowing a 4-2 9th-inning lead. Manny Ramirez hit a two-out, two-strike single to tie the game in the 9th, and then Troy Tulowitzki singled with the bases full to knock in the winning run an inning later.
Also: Colorado is 18 games over .500. That's the best record in the history of the franchise. Ever. We find that surprising.
Also No. 2: The Rockies are never going to lose again.
Those are the facts of the game. Now we ask you this hypothetical question: If you were a Rockies fan last night, would you have preferred A. the game end in nine, perhaps with a routine grounder to second, or B. the way it did, with a dramatic walk-off hit?
The case for A: Colorado played a solid game through eight innings, so much so that it had a two-run lead for the 9th. Get three quick, easy outs and the Rocks get a satisfying win and save the bullpen (that had pitched a ton in a 14-inning affair the night before).
The case against A: No heroics. A good, solid win might not stick with the team the way a walk-off does, which could build momentum for the next day's game.
The case for B: A walk-off win is the most exciting, dramatic way to win a game. A team can build on the momentum from that leading to a better series.
The case against B: A blown save can negate a good outing from a starter and nullify a well-played game up to that point. There's nothing more frustrating than giving up a lead in the 9th. Extra innings mean more pitches thrown, more fly balls shagged, etc. A longer game can tax players and hurt the team in the upcoming games.
Our vote goes to A. We're all about a clean, well-played game that ends with no suspense. A 4-2 win with a 1-2-3 9th is nearly a perfect game in our book. We wouldn't have been that excited about last night's Rockies win despite the walk-off dramatics. A blown save followed with an extra-inning win is stress on us and taxed energy on the team that we don't want.
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