Wednesday, December 30, 2009

What is a Travis Pastrana and Why is it on my TV?

When you view the scrolling bar on the left of the screen and see the words "Travis Pastrana" preceding Da'Sean Butler's game-winner, you have an expectation. That expectation is that Travis Pastrana is dead.

Not so!

No, not dead. He's just going to do some crazy jump after he gets all totally amped on Red Bull--which is wicked gnarly.

Also--and this is unrelated--when that announcer yells, "LeBron James, with no regard for human life!" after that dunk a few years ago, yeah, that doesn't make sense. It would have made sense had LeBron, you know, heedlessly killed someone. Someone like Travis Pastrana.

Tuesday, December 29, 2009

A Welcomed Return - No TMZ Tiger?

Great job so far, but you've missed the boat on the whole Tiger development. I know it's been ground-down into pulp at this point, but does that mean you can idlily skip past the significance?
Tiger - from here on out I'll refer to him as ETW (Eldrick Tont Woods) as the common name in repetition just seems absurd (a la Chipper) - has been the most reserved sports hero in the last decade. The consummate professional, which media types fall all over themselves for wonderous quotes like, "I didn't bring my A game," or "I just didn't put it in when I had to."
Now the second quote is made up, and given the stories so far, he has "put it in" when it comes to VIP bottle-service girls and the assorted alike repeatedly and with a stern conviction. Today, these women are falling out of the woodwork like fucking roaches. But here's where the conversation falls off.
You are one of the highest paid professional athletes of all-time, you have constant exposure, but you hide yourself from the world. Behind the fascade of perfection, the measure of absolute appreciation, it lacks the real world connection, i.e. the fact that we all fuck-up - and we do it all, a lot! Yet, he has never transgressed to the world at large. His only exposure to true emotion is still tied to his profession - his father's passing. And while tragic, it still breeds lore to his professional dedication.
Here now is ETW, that never seemed to faulter, never seemed to fail, suddenly thrust into a limelight that reeks of frailty and common human error. Was his experience so different because he was married to a supermodel au pair? I guess when your worth $2.5 billion somethings will slide, but he is no different. And this is what the world jumps on, eats it like the fuckin' sweetest peep you've had. [Peeps are awful, but when you've never had a sweet treat before it is like you've died and gone to sugar heaven.] Only the dollar signs say otherwise. But this is in such dark contrast to the world he inhabited before. A world cloaked in separation from his and ours. A world, that with his missplaced sentax or varied verbiage becomes a piriah, or even more without communication, is caste even lower still.
In this short treatise I hope only to garner, not sympathy, but understanding that when all seems rotten in Denmark it usually is and always has been. I've lived in many places, but rotten is a place we can all call home at different times. ETW is as he always has been, but never seen. Let's absorb the comparison for as long as it lasts, for the peeps will never taste as sweet again...He is us and we are him.

Monday, December 28, 2009

In Memoriam

Well, Adrian Peterson just ran into the end zone, and all over my heart, and Cousin Brad's squad took home the first St. Xavier Faculty Fantasy trophy. And, in a sad way (both morose and pitiful), I'm gonna miss watching my guys every Sunday. So, since this is now my blog, I wanted to say a couple of things about all my guys:

Tony Romo: You are the best player on the Cowboys. Even when your team was losing, you were kicking ass. Only Peyton Manning has been playing better than you in the past four games, yet everyone hates you because you play for the Cowboys. Well, I don't; you rock.

Andre Johnson: You are the only player in 08-09 to have back-to-back 1,500 yard receiving seasons. You are a freak of nature, and it was an honor having you as my #1 pick.

Steve Smith: I chose you with my last pick because I remembered that you were good with USC, and then you started doing all this shit for the Giants, and I looked like a freaking genius. Thanks.

Frank Gore: Your coach is an idiot, Frank, and he thought he could win a lot of games letting Alex Smith go all Utah-spread offense. You were sorely misused, and you still produced. You scored the most points on the squad Championship Week (granted, against the Lions). You should have carried the ball 40 times a game. (PS: His highlight vid is to the tune "I'm on a Boat"...classic.)

Ray Rice: I traded Wes Fucking Welker for you, and you made me look like a genius. I loved when you ruined UL's season, and you continue to amaze me. Keep choppin'.

Dallas Clark: You are fucking awesome. No tight end (yes, Gene, even Celek) is even fucking close. Plus, you're from Iowa, and anyone who can thrive from that type of habitat (save, my wife) deserves props.

Ravens Defense: For some reason, you guys were available in my league, and I have no idea why, but you guys are awesome, and if I had to pick a favorite NFL team, you guys would be it. Or the Cowboys.

Finally, thanks to Steve Slaton for being the biggest pussy in the world. I hate you.

Tuesday, December 22, 2009

'What in the wide world was that?'

I don't know, Tirico. I don't know.

I'm no coach, but:

1. How do you expect your punter, your PUNTER, to stand in on a rush that has three men against one, ONE, blocker?

2. Who in the hell was that pass to?

3. Why even send the kicker, the KICKER, in motion on that play?

I mean, how fucking excited were the three guys rushing the punter knowing that no one was going to block them? I'm guessing very excited. You dream of shit like that.

And Hunter Smith had to be lobbying against this steaming pile of shit-for-a-play. They actually lined up for this TWICE. The Giants gave them a chance to rethink it. But, noooooooooooooo, the Redskins wouldn't hear of it.

Oregon St. sucks Beaver dick, BTW.

Monday, December 21, 2009

Deadspin Does All My Work

Every time I want to describe a situation (like the pathetic tirade that was Brett Favre losing), Deaspin does it soooooo much better.

So, here it is:

Sunday, December 20, 2009

Brittnay Murphy Died

With all due respect, what the fuck is going on around here? She was my age!

We're BACK, Bitches!

So, I went to Radio Shack on Poplar Level on Friday to get a new cord for our laptop. Holy shit...expensive. So, this salesman gets me what I need, I leave, and the fucking bit on the end doesn't fit (TWSS). I go back, and as I pull up, the same salesman is outside, apparently about to smoke a Red.

So, I get out of my car, and he starts talking to me. So, I put the laptop on the hood of my car, and listen to him start talking about computers or some shit.

As he blathers on, some black dude pulls up in a Grand Cherokee looking for Bob's restaurant...he never found it. Well, that started this salesman on quite a torrent of Bischoffian tales.

REMEMBER: I just want to get a new tip for this wire.

He lights first cigarette and tells me:

1. He has set three world records for decibels broken in a car stereo system.
2. He has made three people vomit when listening to this system (that's good?)
3. He has broken three windshields with this super awesome system
4. Everyone in ST. FUCKING LOUIS knew who he was, his car being so sweet

He then finishes the ass end of his seemingly giant cigarette, I pick up my laptop, and he proceeds to get out a second fucking cigarette. And then it got weird.

1. He took four AK-47 bullets while in Iraq. Most humans do not survive one, mind you.
2. He is a second-degree black belt in karate
3. He has produced albums for Paul Wall
4. He beat up numerous black kids in his East St Louis high school because they messed with a white kid. But, he was never arrested because when the cops heard the story, they TOTALLY sided with him, right?
5. His cousin who has been in jail five times screwed him over last week (didn't get the deets on that one)
6. He is already the top-selling Radio Shack employee in the region (Southeast, Ohio Valley, Louisville, Eastern Parkway, no one knows)
7. He just cheated on his ex, because she sent him a bullshit text about hanging out with HER ex and wanting to take THEIR child to the movies. Drama.

When we got back inside, they didn't have the part I needed. Mother FUCK.

Friday, December 18, 2009

the true meaning of christmas

oh, wow...are we doin' THIS again???
hmmm...what to say?
Oh, i got it...Greatest Christmas Ever...
Mine was 1989.
'89 and '90 are the Magic and Bird of my childhood years. Everything great happened then. Tim Burton's Batman, Bobby Brown, BBD, a momentus victory in the OMOS Christmas Tournament, first trip to Wrigley. If i actually turn out to be Daniel Stern and i find myself narrating the story of my life to no one in particular, '89 and '90 will represent the best seasons where a disproprortionate amount of the good episodes would come from. '89 and '90 are to me, like '87 was to members of the wu tang was my favorite shit, son.
I got gifts lavished on me that year, way more so than in other years. I have no idea why. I am not shrewd enough an economist to point to a certain trend as to why my usually somewhat cash strapped parents had more money than in years past. All i know was it was awesome. The highlight list looked like this...

Nintendo Game Boy...two colors, gray and green, no back light (if ya wanted to play that bitch, you better turn on a flood light!), battery life of ten minutes even when ya packed it full of recharged AAs, and TETRIS...calculators these days can do more to stimulate a child...i mean it, and honest to goodness calculator...but to my little troglodyte mind it was something akin to when the caveman invented the cigarette lighter...the greatest technical marvel of my epoch was now held in the palm of my grubby little hand!

Tecmo this young age, i thought myself to be quite the football mind. Little did i know that i was actually just a dork, and the lifelong trend that was being established here was not a commitment to the game of football, always giving my all, play like a champion today...poo, poo, poo, it was more establishing the tradition of my greatest moments in life being achieved in a venue where the only ones to bear witness are a throng of poorly drawn, barely animated drones who seem to not even be watching the game.

Nike Air Trainer SC...the ever famous "Bo Jackson"...we all saw the commercials, we all bear witness to what he did in the all star game, what he did to bozworth... he scaled walls, he hit one handed home runs, he ran over linebackers and away from corners, (unfortunately not away from the pesky bengals defense)bill brasky wishes he was Bo. And i rocked the same shoes as that guy. I fell in line with all the myriad kids who hoped that just by donning a pair of(metaphorical) Chuck Taylor's that my set shot and chest pass (again, metaphors) would be somehow crisper. Of course, that turned out to be wrong. I hesitate to even use the term "flame out" when associated with anything athletic i have ever done, simply because it implies that there was once a spark there. But the hundred plus beans that my folks laid out for those kicks...boy they sure helped prolong the lie. Rockin a pair of Bo's made you feel like you had to be athletic. Like his big giant self would be waiting to throttle you if he caught you eating a Big Mac or playing your new game boy in HIS shoes.

so there it is, gang...anybody wanna chime in? what we are lookin for here is best Christmas gifts ever...gotta be from the same year...if any of you queefs out there have any reasons for loving a particular Christmas that are NOT shallow and materlialistic ( "My first Christmas with my wife" or "our child was born"or "we saved a village of orphans"), then fuck you...just presents that rocked and that shit story for your Charlie Brown friends, you blanket sucking, Linus-ass pantyliners.

Thursday, December 17, 2009

A Slight Eddie Moment

So, I was in the drive-thru at Sonoma this morning (their coffee sucks), and I was listening to 840 because I am an old person. Anywho, they discussed Devante Parker signing with UL (good get), and they mentioned he was the son of Anthony Shelman. I thought, "Holy shit, how old was Shelman when he had this kid? I remember when he transferred from Florida State!" Then I realized I was thinking of Eric Shelton.

Also, Dallas Clark just made an awesome TD catch. Machine.

Wednesday, December 16, 2009

Andre Ware kinda looks like Ken Rudolph

And Todd Blackledge looks like a cancer patient on HD. Kinda gross.

(I'm just gonna post random stuff from now on since nobody reads this anymore.)

Wednesday, December 9, 2009

Outkast Is Still Awesome

I was cleaning out my inbox of e-mails from school, and Yochum sent me this a while back. Since I felt terrible about deleting something so awesome, I put it here because this blog apparently will NEVER die.

Via Pitchfork's Top Songs of the Decade:

1. OutKast
[LaFace/Arista; 2000]

So you've spent the past five days clicking through pages of this countdown only to find out that the best single of the 2000s was released just 10 months into the decade. (To the ensuing nine or so years of music: thanks for showing up.) And that it's the very same song that topped Pitchfork's Best Songs of 2000-2004 list from five years ago. Now you know how your parents feel when they tune into a long-weekend classic-rock radio countdown for the inevitable valedictory spin of "Stairway to Heaven".

But really, do we have any other choice? "B.O.B." is not just the song of the decade-- it is the decade. Appropriately, the contemporary hip-hop act most in tune with the Afro-Futurist philosophies of Sun Ra, George Clinton, and Afrika Bambaataa, wound up effectively crafting a fast-forwarded highlight-reel prophecy of what the next 10 years held in store. The title-- aka "Bombs Over Baghdad", a phrase that sounded oddly anachronistic in 2000, sadly ubiquitous two and a half years later-- is only the start of it. In "B.O.B"'s booty-bass blitzkrieg, we hear an obliteration of the boundaries separating hip-hop, metal, and electro, setting the stage for a decade of dance/rock crossovers. We hear a bloodthirsty gospel choir inaugurating a presidential administration of warmongering evangelicals. We hear André 3000 and Big Boi fire off a synapse-bursting stream of ripped-from-the-headlines buzzwords ("Cure for cancer/ Cure for AIDS"), personal anecdotes ("Got a son on the way by the name of Bamboo") and product placements ("Yo quiero Taco Bell") that read like the world's first Twitter feed. We hear four minutes of utter fucking chaos yielding to a joyously optimistic denouement (a point reinforced by the Stankonia cover's re-imagination of the American flag, which anticipates a White House set to be painted black).

Of course, there is a downside of being ahead of your time-- upon its release, "B.O.B." didn't even dent the Billboard Hot 100, and merely peaked at No. 69 on the Hip-Hop/R&B Chart. But unlike OutKast's subsequent number one singles ("Ms. Jackson" and "Hey Ya") "B.O.B." is too disorienting and exhausting an experience to ever succumb to over-saturation, and its majesty has never been diminished by ironic cover versions from cred-hungry rock bands. Because even after a decade that's seen the act of copying music become as easy as a mouse-click, and the process of performing simplified for toy video-game guitars, the future-shocked ferocity "B.O.B." is something that just cannot be duplicated. --Stuart Berman

Sunday, May 31, 2009

I can't believe you still read this

I really just changed this because I am sick of reading the same stupid ass-kissing of Manny I wrote. And, guess what? Fuck him! I finally stand up for that douche, and he's a big fat cheater. And, yes, UL fans, I'll beat you to is Jarmon.

I hate to say it, but he knew what he was doing. I think he is awesome and a great thespian and an even nicer guy, but I don't buy his story. I'm sorry. He knew what he was taking, and if he is so intelligent, then the 'I didn't understand what was in it' argument is bunk.

What pisses me off is that this NEVER happens. When was the last time you heard of a college football player being suspended for an illegal substance? I guess the bigger programs mask it better, and let's be honest, Micah Johnson is on some shit too, but he doesn't get checked. Bottom line: it was bad luck. The early line on the Cats-Cards game just moved to UK -27.

Also, Lebron is a bitch, and it has to pain the NBA faithful that their 'golden boy' is such a no-class dickface.

Also, also...and I know few of you care, but Calvin Borel is the new Pat Day at Churchill, and it pisses me off. The program could say that his horse is 15-1 and has little shot, but the tote board will tell you he's 2-1, and you don't want to bet him, but you almost feel obligated, and then his horse doesn't do shit. The next race you say, "No way I'm fallin' for that again", and he draws off and wins by ten. Great guy, great jockey, but he's fuckin' up the odds.

Also, also, also...John Calipari has done nothing wrong. I would appreciate D Rose coming out and making some sort of statement but that will never happen. Know why? Because the NBA is a sewer full of low-lifes.

Also, Also, also, also...guess who I haven't heard from in a while? Dave Stewart. Guess who else? It seems odd that Pitino hasn't weighed in on the Calipari situation seeing as how he loves to meddle in our business when we suck at basketball. But seeing how he is in the middle of a lawsuit, I guess laying low would be a better tack to take. He is losing recruits by the day, and he hasn't even named a new assistant yet. This humble blogger says all signs point to him getting the fuck out.

Finally, the kid gloves Pitino received from the local media make me sick. I get it. Everything that has to do with Rick is speculation. Fine. But to then fill the newspaper and airwaves with all this bullshit about Calipari is a double-standard. Calipari's name was nowhere in the NCAA report, so anything said about him is also 'speculation.' Also, if you want to go another route, does anyone remember the last seedy situation involving a local sports hero? How about Chuck Hayes and the crazy MILF bitch? That was speculation, but you better bet your ass we knew about the brownies he fed her and the crazy milkshake and all this shit that happened at Wildcat Lodge...oh, what's that? That was all speculation? She was just a nutso skank? Hmmm. The hypocrisy is sickening.

Sunday, April 19, 2009

Great Start to a Sunday

So, I'm sittin' on the couch, drinking my coffee, and watching Sportscenter because if you wake up after 9:00 on a Sunday, you're forced to watch Bob Ryan and Lupica wax idiotic about the struggling Yankees or some shit. But, there I was having an epiphany.

I like Manny Ramirez.

He's like that stupid person you hung out with all the time (or he hung out with you), and he bothered you so much because he was really irresponsible, and disrespectful, and he looked stupid, and he was rude, and he said stupid things, and he thought he was way more valuable than he really was, and he kept trying to drive up one-year, 45-million dollar deals with his agent...OK, nobody has a friend like that, but I digress.

Anyway, this morning, all the bitterness I had towards him for his terrible defense, idiotic behavior, and all-around jackassery went away when I watched the Dodgers highlights. I may have the details a bit off, but you'll get the gist:

First inning, Manny crushes one to left-center (on a high, inside pitch): 1-0

Second inning, Manny doinks a routine fly ball off his glove. They show Chad Billinglsey on the mound, and he's perturbed, but not showing him up or's Manny.

At this point, I think to myself, "What a retard. Watching him run after the dropped ball, stupid, floppy hair bouncing around, he sucks. Billingsley should kick him in the balls when they get back to the dugout."

No runs scored however, so no harm no foul.

Third inning, Manny crushes a rope down the left field line. 2-0

And with that, I laugh to no one but myself. The guy is hilariously talented at the plate. So much so, that no matter how fucking terrible he is at defense, personal hygiene, and decorum, the guy flat fucking rakes, and it is fun to watch him hit.

It was as if this conversation occurred after the second inning:

Manny: Hey #58, pitcher bad on that fly ball. They didn't score that inning, did they?

Chad: No, they didn't. Don't sweat it. It just added another 10 pitches to my pitch count in my second start of the season.

Pitch count?

Chad: Yeah, early in the season, we like to...never mind. Anyway, don't worry about it.

Manny: I hit you a homer this inning, make up for it.

Chad: Yeah, all right, that'd be great. (eye roll)

Manny: All right...who am I up after? (wanders off)

And with that, almost as if it blew away with the warm, Pacific breeze at Chavez Ravine and one swing of the bat, my hatred for Manny is gone. He's just funny to watch.

I still hate Papelbon, though. That guy is a douche.

P.S. Pitino is in quite a bundle at the moment. Hope that all works out OK.

Thursday, April 16, 2009

Long Live The Goat

I really don't like the Cubs at all. This is mostly reciprocated hatred that started with Bick and other Cubs fans' hatred of the Reds. In fact, when I was younger I really liked the plucky underdog thing they had going for them. Now though, they kind of feel like the National League's Red Sox? There's an allstar lineup in Chitown and most of the billion or so fans that comprise Cubs nation seem to be of the ilk that it is cool to be a Cubs fan and have no real appreciation for the team or the game but man they have a sweet cubbie bear shirt and they shit themselves onetime at Murphy's or whatever. This fan critque excludes the Cubs contingent that will be reading this but you know what I mean about most of your Wrigley lovin' brethren. Anyway, it'll be sweet if we go to Cincy this year again where they will be 3 Cubs fans for every Redleg in the stands.

Friday, April 3, 2009

There are Literally Thousands of These

I kind of feel bad picking on this one dude, but I have to be meta-critical of at least one of these anti-Calipari articles. So far, this one's the shittiest, probably because it was written by some lame hack wannabe--just like me! Well, just like Bick.

John Calipari and Kentucky: A Marriage Made in Basketball Heaven

The never-before-used marriage metaphor. Promising start!

I, John Calipari...

John Calipari is a good basketball coach, not a great one. The Kentucky basketball program right now is a good one, not a great one. They're perfect for each other.

If there's anything I love, it's intentionally disjointed articles!

I'd like to disagree with both of your sentiments, as well. John Calipari is a great basketball coach. He's been to four straight Sweet 16's. He's one of the nation's top recruiters. He's certainly one of the ten best coaches, if not one of the five.

Also: Kentucky is a terrible, awful program right now. 40-27 in two years is very mediocre, like, say, off the top of my head, tapioca pudding.

On the surface, Calipari is an outstanding catch for the Wildcats. It's hard to beat a .762 winning percentage, NBA ties, and the ability to yank blue-chip recruits from all over the country.

You're right, that all is a major change from what has been occurring. End of article.

Dig deeper and gaps develop. Not a single thing this man has done in college basketball has been free of blemish. Not one.

What about the press conference Wednesday? That was perfect. Or the national championship run last year? Yeah, he had some potheads and shit, but hell, it's Memphis.

Marcus Camby accepting 40k and hookers over a 16-month period from a lawyer in Connecticut isn't the entire story, either.

OK, that's a little fucked up. But hey, Cal was young and cleared of all wrong doing. Let's pretend that never happened...

There's also Donta Bright and Lou Roe, whose academics were so questionable other major schools passed on them while Calipari flaunted UMass' options for students with learning disabilities.

Fuck kids with LD, that's what I've always said. Hasn't steered me wrong yet.

...from this day forward, for better or worse, or until stuff starts hitting fans...

Then he bolted to the NBA shortly after the Camby situation started unravelling [sic].

If by "bolted to the NBA" you mean "took a highly-profitable job with more power and prestige than one could ever attain at UMass" then yes, he bolted.

At Memphis, he's developed a nice stable of recruiting side stories, from World Wide Wes to DeJuan Wagner's dad to Reggie Rose to Lord knows what else will emerge.

World Wide Wes sounds like the Internet, and the Internet is where we all get our porn. Are you trying to fuck that up for everyone?

Yes, Cal did hire Milt Wagner, probably in an Wade Houstonian-like attempt to get his son. However, Milt still coaches (at a different school), so maybe it was more than that.

As for Rose's brother, I'm not really sure how that all went down. Sounds like some sketchy relationship building practices, but that shit goes on way more than just at Memphis.

More importantly (well, at least to Kentucky), on the court Calipari has actually underperformed against expectations in the NCAA tournament. Memphis was upset in '03, '06, and '09.

Emphasis his! 'Cause this shit major!

In '03, Memphis, a seven-seed, lost to Arizona State in the first round. In '06, as the one-seed, they lost by five to eventual runner up UCLA in the Elite Eight. In '09, they got fucking destroyed by a buzzsaw.

Still, his last four years are a hundred times better than ours. Also, you may not have heard, but upsets occur in the tournament. For instance, Duke's been upset in the past five tournaments.

They equalled their seed in '04 and '07, and only (arguably) did better than their seed in '08. His '93 and '94 UMass teams were also upset. In fact, not one Calipari-coached team has demonstrably done better than expected in the NCAA Tournament. Not one.

Emphasis, again, his.

I don't want to get into a big thing here, but again, it's very difficult to not be upset in the tournament. Very rarely are favorites playing one another. The fact that he has Memphis, remember, in positions to go to the Final Four--ever--is an accomplishment. The excitement comes from the melding of a big name program, Kentucky, with a big name coach. The expectation is that he will be able to do much bigger things at a much bigger program.

It really isn't very elusive. Also: Remember Roy Williams? He was a notorious choker at KU. I don't think there is any argument about who the best coach in CBB is now. And he only took a small step up.

Your upset talk is also annoying because, in the shitty C-USA, the guy hasn't been upset in almost 60 tries. So we probably won't have anymore VMIs, and that's really all I need.

And he's never won a game in a top six conference.

I don't know what this means. You know, Vince Lombardi won zero baseball games as a baseball manager. Zero.

...for richer or poorer, mostly richer since you're paying me an exorbitant amount of money...

Hi-yo. Because they're getting married, remember?

Play in a weak conference, rack up the wins with Yankees-level talent for your second-tier conference, and disappoint in March. Wake up one day and you'll making championship vows as the highest-paid coach in college basketball.

Again, "disappoint in March" is arguable.

"Wake up one day?" He's coached two teams in the FF and in the NBA. That's pretty good pedigree. Who the fuck else were we supposed to get? Other than Izzo, of course.

The only school right for him is Kentucky, a school whose fans live in 1968 and think it's the center of the college basketball universe, the only place to offer everything a college basketball coach could want. "The coach is bigger than the Governor," they say with all the hubris entitled to a team mentally living in a Ruppian utopia.

I think I speak for myself and everyone I know when I say that we don't live in 1968. And, judging by the coverage of this event, it is the center of the basketball universe.

I'm still trying to decipher what "hubris entitled to a team mentally living in a Ruppian utopia" means. And I think you mean fan base, not team. How does one "mentally live?" How do you "entitle hubris?" What does that mean?

And you blew a perfect opportunity to use Guv-nah.

They're prefect [sic] for Calipari because they're the basketball equivalent of Notre Dame and Alabama football.


Drunk on history and self-righteousness, they often ignore reality, decorum, and any pesky roadblocks in the return for glory, discarding the common rules other programs live by. "This isn't just another coaching job," indeed!

Whoa, now. Careful with all that drunk talk. If the common rule is to allow an alcoholic who is short with the media and treats his players like the fucking Junction Boys, then I'd be glad to be a fan of the program that ignores those rules.

And we have sucked ass lately. We needed this hire.

Who are you quoting? love and to cherish, because that means drinking from the same giant cauldron of hallucinogenic blue liquid...


If anyone ever said, "if you love me, you'd drink from this giant cauldron of hallucinogenic blue liquid," they'd be admitted. I'm not sure that's common practice.

Truth is, Kentucky is just another coaching job.

That is not the truth. If it were, we wouldn't be paying a man $4 million to do it and Gillispie would still be getting his bearings.

It's probably one of the top fifteen in the country, but there's nothing special about it aside from maybe kissing some more butt in the media and booster circles (which is a negative to prospective coaches).

I don't really follow this logic. First of all, top fifteen, ha! You're insane.

Second of all, there's nothing special about coaching the winningest program in the history of the sport? I find that hard to believe.

However, try explaining this to a Kentucky fan, and they'll think you're from Mars, which makes the Calipari hire a perfect fit. Like Kentucky, Calipari sees himself in an echelon above his peers.

Wait a fucking second, man. Are you telling me that creatures from Mars think they're better than us? That's fucked up.

Kid no one can touch? He'll get him.

Yeah, fuck that.

He's Italian and he looks good on TV.

GiadadeLaurentiis03.jpg image by renziebaluyut

Hookers for 20-year olds? He didn't know about it.

He may not have. If there is anyone slimier than Calipari, it's agents.

NBA players? He could handle them, right?

They went to the playoffs. That's more than Pitino can say.

...'til death, or premature contract termination at your massive expense because I've failed to live up to the ungodly expectations set before me, do us part...

This is where everyone is wrong. Gillispie was fired for lots of reasons, but most of all, at least to me, because he has no past success. We thought he was the hot up-and-comer, and he was just some asshole. Cal has 2 FF and a legitimate recruiting prowess. If he has down years, he'll get a pass.

Also, he's not a sociopath.

The list of coaches who have disliked Calipari is quite an impressive gallery: Calhoun, Chaney, Pitino, Pearl, Martelli, et cetera. Only through Calipari can they be linked.

Hey look, the five biggest assholes in college basketball! Oh, God have mercy on you if Phil Martelli dislikes you. And is that the same John Chaney who sent a goon in to injure the other team's best player and threatened to kill Calipari? He's an angel, from what I understand. His relationship with Pitino is well-documented, and it sounds like nothing more than two guys with huge egos being competitive. Calhoun is also a notorious prick. And Bruce Pearl can choke on a dick. Does anyone like him?

Likewise, Kentucky finds enemies from all over the basketball sphere merely because of the unwarranted swagger they bring to basketball season.

OK, you're 8 years old, right? This was all a big joke! And, to be clear, we have brought no swagger to the basketball season for several years.

Given their pasts, the marriage of Calipari and Kentucky is an NCAA scandal and a feast of postseason underachieving waiting to happen. It's like the marriage of Sampson and Indiana on Lexington-style crack cocaine.

That is a vivid description...that makes no sense! Sampson had already been caught, accused, and charged with infractions. Calipari hasn't.

But whatever hyperbolic statement fits, I guess.

Overrated coach, you may now take this overrated program...

This may be my "entitled hubris" speaking, but I think it's almost impossible to overrate the Kentucky program. We've had some good years, which you evidently missed, because you seem to think that the program was born in 2006.

Thursday, April 2, 2009

Fun With The Reader's Corner II

Making fun of citizens who took the time to write completely asinine letters to the editor will be a new feature on this site, and it will be called, "oh my God, people are so fucking stupid."

As you know, the bold is not mine.

How long will it take for President Obama to act on and/or react to the salaries of sport coaches and/or athletes?

Do you want my guess? OK. Never. Never ever. Neverty-everty. Do you want to know my reasoning? The Constitution.

Despite what the folks at AIG might tell you, Obama can't tell you what to do with your money. In fact, no one, in the history of America, can. Oh sure, we pay taxes. But after that you can do whatever you want!

This is like me saying, "how long before Obama outlaws people paying money to put stupid spoilers on their Grand Prix' and scripting 'GANGSTA' along the back windshield of their Blazers? THIS MUST END!"

Hey, lady, just because you don't like it, doesn't mean it should be illegal. I don't like people saying stupid shit; God knows I haven't gotten that outlawed (not due to lack of trying).

Especially, note the eight-year, $31 million offer to Coach John Calipari. In this time, such a huge salary is outrageous.

Yes, I know. Lady, with no due respect, may I ask you if you pried dubya for legislation when A-Rod signed his contract? Or LeBron/Kobe/Miley fucking Cyrus? People get paid lots and lots of money for tons of stupid shit. Again, since only 400K is being paid to Cal in base salary, it's really none of your fucking business how much the UKAD decides to give him.

This is no different from a private enterprise paying their CEO millions. It's not taxpayer dollars, so shut your fucking face. They can do what they want. Yay Capitalism!

Also, I will be overjoyed when UK gets over the fact that Rick Pitino left them.

Really? Because you sound pretty bitter. I would offer that your angry plea to have Calipari arrested (or whatever) is a direct result of UK fans' glee (but mostly your stupidity).

Hey, fans, he is gone; he is in Louisville; we got him. Now get over it.

Yes, I know. At this time, I can finally say I'm over it. I hadn't been for a while, though. Also: stop acting like you took him from us. You didn't. He fell into your lap after fucking up an NBA franchise.

Learning Along the Way

So, I can't say that I'm prophetic, but in the past 48 hours, I pretty much nailed it (with the help of Steve Jackson):

a. There will be night racing at Churchill. Holy shit.

b. I told you that UK needed to do what UL won't and fire their shitty coach.

In the article by Eric Crawford today, much credit is given to Mitch Barnhart, and it is well-deserved. As the firing occurred, about half of the Big Blue faithful warned us that we were making a HUGE mistake and no one would ever want to coach at the 'circus' that is the University of Kentucky.

Well, not only were they wrong, but they are much less vocal now. If it were feasible, all the morons who said we shouldn't fire Gillispie should not be allowed entrance into Rupp Arena for two years. They should not be allowed to join in the excitement of ushering in arguably the hottest coach in the nation right now. They should not be allowed access to any message boards, and they all owe Barnhart an apology.

The guy did what he had to do, so he deserves every ounce of credit that he receives. And if someone from the UK PR department didn't write Coach Cal's opening speech, then I am shocked. Here's an outline:

1. Open up with a Keightley reference, they love that crazy old man!
2. Get a dig in on Alan Cutler (sidenote: who is a bigger Cutler-douche right now, Alan or's close)
3. Mention Richie Farmer
4. Tell a story where the protagonist (a troubled youth) ends up changing his life for the better, thereby robbing the media of some of the bullets that they will use against you
5. Mention Dunkin''re a regular guy!
6. Deftly make fun of Gillispie without making fun of Gillispie (playing zone, recruiting 12 year olds)
7. Talk about how this is still THE job in college basketball

The dude nailed it.

But, the real point of this, and, sadly, most of my life, is to once again point out that the AD at Kentucky has one HUGE advantage over some other AD's because of his ability to realize when he has erred.

Tell me, what AD that you know does this NOT sound like:

"I hired Billy, went down that path, thought I had a guy who was the hot coach or whatever. I watched him, watched his team, liked the way he played, talked to a lot of people," Barnhart said. "And I missed. It was my fault. I just missed. ... Everybody lives and learns, as do I. Last time didn't work out. Did I learn from that? Hopefully, I got better this time. ... I know I'm happy with where we are and the coach we got."

Really, the beautiful symbolism here is that Jurich's hubris bleeds into other programs. If you were forced to watch the UL-Arizona blood-letting, you would have realized that the preening, camera-fondling, eyebrow grooming, chest thumping, buzzer dunking Cardinals were rife for an upset at the hands of a much sounder, humbler, and (GASP) better coached team. Train/Higdon, I apologize, but you were in the stands, so you didn't get the full effect of the pomposity exuded on the court by the Filthy Cards, and alas, it was the sword that they fell on.

So, Tom, enjoy your trip to the Women's Final Four in St. Louis. We'll see you in Lexington on September 19. Make sure you bring "your guy" with you. We already got ours.

Monday, March 30, 2009

'The Cutman' Has Got to be the Biggest Loser In the Universe

Remember when world-renowned investigative journalist Alan Cutler--of 1530 The Homer (it's the NYT of radio networks)--awkwardly chased the recently fired UK coach down a hallway? You do, it was everywhere. Now The Cutman, as he is affectionately called by his fat loser friends on his softball team, wants to set the record straight:
As far as the video, that has been linked all over, about me chasing Billy G., I was just doing my job as an aggressive reporter. I was trying to get a comment about getting fired. That's what reporters do.

I'm getting ripped all over for doing that.

What I find interesting is how most of us have watched TV newscasts. When a mic is stuck in a parents face after some terrible accident, there is no outcry of hate to that reporter for talking to that parent like what I'm now experiencing.

Stare at your computer monitor for the next 50 seconds, please. Soak up the tiny processed code, and allow the stupidest fucking thing you've ever read marinate within your brain. Have you punched a child yet?

Let's recap.

As far as the video, that has been linked all over, about me chasing Billy G., I was just doing my job as an aggressive reporter. I was trying to get a comment about getting fired. That's what reporters do.

I'm getting ripped all over for doing that.

Yes, reporters do try and get comments from subjects. He's absolutely right about that. Unfortunately, apparently, there is a thin line between what he refers to as an "aggressive reporter" and a "total jackass." He, like every local radio personality ever, fits the mold of the latter.

What I find interesting is how most of us have watched TV newscasts. When a mic is stuck in a parents face after some terrible accident, there is no outcry of hate to that reporter for talking to that parent like what I'm now experiencing.

I know I say this a lot, but this is the stupidest thing I've ever heard. It really is. First of all, a coaching change and a parent enduring a "terrible accident" are not at all parallel. I think we can all agree on that.

And while what you say in your misguided, made-up scenario is true, that meddling reporter doesn't usually chase the parent into their office. I guess only the great ones do that.

Stop pretending that you are this hard-hitting, quote-at-all-costs reporter and admit what you really are: a complete douche. Is there anything more annoying then someone, especially someone in the media, whining about negative attention? Think of all the shitty things you've no doubt said about people on your show (I've never heard it. Maybe he's referred to as the only benevolent sports radio host in the business.). And don't feed us this "I was just doing my job" horse shit. The only person who's job it is to be a complete ass-face all the time is Kenny Powers. And he need not an assistant (it's true, Stevie). You did this because you wanted all this attention; so stop whining like a bitch now that you've gotten it.

You're on Deadspin; God knows that's all I've ever wanted.

And if you needed more of a reason to dislike this Bernstein:


Saturday, March 28, 2009

Gillispie's Real Problem

Gillispie has lots of problems, and, to be fair, the "real problem" I'm prepared to lay before you problem isn't his real problem. I just couldn't think of a title.

Lots has been said about what has gone down in Lexington, and most of it is muddying the face of Gillispie. I don't know what happened with chicks in hot tubs or that night at Malone's or when he got pissy with Tom Leach or anything like that. It is becoming clearer, though, that his relationship with his players was suspect. And by "suspect" I mean: I'm pretty sure our best players and their families fucking hated him. I suspect those relationships played a major role in his termination. Plus, he's a stupid grit. That too.

At A&M, Gillispie had, by all accounts, a terrific rappport with his players. Acie Law would lay in traffic for the guy, and after his first season in Lexington, Gillispie appeared to have developed a similar relationship with Crawford and Bradley. Part of that, I believe, was because Gillispie's offense last year consisted of Bradley and Crawford hoisting as many threes as they could, but still, there were few issues in the locker room. The other part of that relationship building was that Gillispie was all Crawford and Bradley had. They couldn't leave, and they wanted to make it to the league.

There is something to be said, then, about Gillispie's ability to develop players. These guys listened to him and did things his way, and they succeeded.

The unraveling of Gillispie came, paradoxically, when he was able to bring in highly-rated recruits. His coaching tactics of toughness and hard-nosedness may have worked with marginal players at A&M and UTEP, but when you bring players in who have been told their entire life that they'll be in the league, they're not ready to deal with all of your bullshit. The successful coaches realize that, and they sort of baby these guys along, and give them, you know, minutes. With Gillispie, you don't earn your stripes on the court; instead, you earn playing time by trying really hard in practice and not fucking up plays.

Therefore, his real problem, I think, isn't really his problem at all. HIs coaching philosophy doesn't mesh well with blue chip recruits (Patterson notwithstanding). Discipline is one thing; but when a player of DeAndre Liggins' caliber is forced to watch Michael Porter play ahead of him, he's not going to perform well. For some guys, Acie Law, for example, that will drive them to push harder and force their way onto the floor. These big-time recruits, though, expect everything to be handed to them. And, sadly, that's what they'll get from other coaches. In the end, it will work in everyone's favor, but Gillispie's too dumb and stubborn to realize that.

So, yeah, he'll take the Texas Tech job or something and he'll take them to the Sweet 16 one year. Good for him. But there's a ceiling for how good a Gillispie coached team can be, and I'm really, really glad we figured that out sooner rather than later.

This team will be so much better next year with a new coach, unless that coach is Travis Ford. If that's the case, we're back to square one.

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

A New Bookmark!

So Reed Johnson has a blog. It's the same thing DeRosa did last season.

"My blog is definitely going to be better than DeRosa's. I'm definitely going to be tougher on my teammates.

FONTENOT: DeRo's a good guy. Reed's an idiot.

JOHNSON: There you go. Maybe I'll insert Font twice a week after that comment."
Here's Johnson's first Fontenot quip: "A week has gone by since I last blogged, and Fontenot just walked by and he's still as small as he was when I first met him. He hasn't grown at all. We'll leave it at that."

Also, he has Louisville and Duke in the Nat'l Championship, because his wife thinks Cardinals and Blue Devils sounds good.

If that happens, God help us.

I'm a Neglectful Bloggist

I've been a bad blogfather. I've ignored you. I apologize--I've been, well, doing nothing. Hey, some dingbat wrote a stupid article! Yay!

How to fix the NCAA tourney? Let me count the ways

Can't wait!

The NCAA didn't ask, but as we approach the second week of the college basketball tournament, I'm sure that august body is interested in some unsolicited suggestions to help make March even madder.

Zero, so far.

Maybe you didn't know there are ways to improve the tournament. There are. Lots of them. Some are silly, some serious, but all are doable. Such as:

I hate to bust in before you run off your stupid little list, but why do people think it necessary to fuck with the tournament? It can't be because they're too stupid to think of an original column, could it?

Give catchy names for the first two rounds. Do you really have to make the Sweet 16 or Elite Eight for teams to brag about in next year's media guide? What's so sweet about 16 anyway? Why not crow about making the Semi-Sweet 64? Or the Thrilling 32?

Is this one of the "joke-y" ones, or are you serious? Either way: terrible.

Expand the field by three, with three more play-in games to give one at every regional. The added appeal is that some of these would be more intriguing than this year's Morehead State-Alabama State game. I didn't watch a single minute of that one.

Then you missed the over-celebrations of a potentially-handicapped boygirl.

But I would if it were Saint Mary's-Davidson

Yes, reward teams that didn't make the tourney with one more shot! I think 65 is enough.

or Kentucky-Creighton.


Seriously, though, if you can't break into the top 65, a line must be drawn. Where will this end?

Sign retired analyst Billy Packer up for 24/7 Twitter.

'That Twitter has been in the news. I hear my kids talking about it. They'll think I'm hip if I work it into my column.

First, tell Billy what Twitter is.

It's a gigantic black penis.

Make the tournament field 128 teams and scrap those god-awful conference tournaments that make a buck and only deprive a worthy team with a great regular season of its deserved spot in the field.

Oh, so no explanation as to why you'd sign Packer up to Twitter? And now you're reverting back to your previous argument, and amending it with quite possibly the stupidest piece of shit argument you could make.

First of all, filling out a bracket would take an entire day.

Second, why can't you, like every normal human being, see the conference tournament's as a play-in tournament? And how are worthy team's deprived? You do know there are like 34 at-large bids, yes? And who sits on their couch, Thursday afternoon, and says 'fuck! No Days of Our Lives because there's goddam daytime college basketball?'

Women, that's who. You're a woman.

Have former coaches — the ones who just loved officials — referee the play-in games. Now if Bobby Knight were officiating the Morehead State game, I would have watched. You think Gene Keady would have taken any lip if he had a whistle? They'd be ratings bonanzas.

You know, that's a good point. They would be "ratings bonanzas." Mainly because there are enough sick people in our country who would tune in to see the two biggest assholes have heart attacks on national television.

Have referees serve as color analysts of tournament games and tell stories about which coaches curse the most, which whine the most and those that they think do the best and worst jobs coaching their teams.

'Then, you could put tape recorders in everyone's living rooms, broadcast their voices live, and we could have everyone in unison say, 'who gives a shit?''

Always send North Carolina and Duke to the West. That'd qualify as a real economic stimulus with their passionate fans.

Hi-yo! Stimulus joke! Our nation's in ruins! Hahahahahah....

Set up dunking booths for AIG executives at every regional site. Dump an exec, you get his bonus.

Keep it rolling! Show the people you're tuned in.

Let Obama work as a basketball analyst. He's obviously done his homework. Well, kind of.


Remove the Final Four locations from these football domes, please. Sorry, Jerry.

OK, that's rational.

Sure, the NCAA will squeeze more than 70,000 into Ford Field in Detroit next month, but a return to more intimate, true basketball arenas would restore some of the mystique to the tournament. Besides, didn't greed get our country into the mess it's in now in the first place?

Let's lay off the economy for a bit.

Heck, play the Final Four in the "Hoosiers" Hinkle Fieldhouse on Butler's campus in Indianapolis. And let Gene Hackman, my favorite actor, serve as guest coach.

Yes, I'm sure UNC would love that stunt.

Stick Obama on the NCAA selection committee. Or Knight. And televise the deliberations. Give it an R rating. Stick it on HBO if you have to.

Who organized this? You're all over the place.

Reveal the bracket entry of a different celebrity before every tournament game and then track it. Have dueling brackets like Angelina Jolie's vs. Jennifer Anniston's. Or Roger Clemens' versus Brian McNamee's. And Mack Brown's vs. Bob Stoops' with closest predicted score for the championship game as the, uh, tiebreaker.

This has nothing to do with the actual tournament. In fact, as a media member, you could run this little tournament.

Call traveling.

Jerry Smith.

Play the "One Shining Moment" theme song every night. Sorry, but I love it.

'I love it so much that I want it to annoy the shit out of me next week!'

Here's an outrageous one. In the spirit of the World Series, make the national championship game two out of three.


Hey, we've already established that greed is a factor, right?

Um, you did.

What, is CBS going to turn down an extra game or two?

Probably not.

Put more representatives of mid-major conferences on the selection committee.

I'm bored.

Have interviews with former refs on blown calls, nightmares and ensuing death threats. Find the Don Denkinger of college hoops. Do feature stories on refs to show that they're, well, almost human.

Uh, yeah, that's a great idea for a column. I wish you knew a newspaper columnist...

Rename the winning cup the John Wooden Trophy. Why hasn't this already been done?

Because he's not dead yet. And he creeps everyone out. And he may have cheated.

Force every Division I school from one of the big six major conferences to play a mid-major team on the road after Christmas.

Nothing to do with improving the tournament.

If it's not a problem, move this year's national title game to a Tuesday. Monday is opening day for most major league baseball teams.

Luckily, there are no teams opening their season on Tuesday. Oh, except the Brewers, Giants, Braves, and Phillies.

Rename this year's tournament the Big East Invitational.

That sounds like a god-awful conference tournament.

Finally, end all the denial and go to three-day work weeks in March, Monday through Wednesday. We'd at least save on gas mileage to "work."

Yes, skip work. You're employer isn't looking for any reason to fire you.

Sunday, March 22, 2009

World Baseball Classic: A Microcosm

So, I'm watchin' this baseball final, and I learn stuff about cultures.

It's the bottom of the eighth, and Japan is up two runs. The lead-off hitter for Japan gets on base, and here's where the two countries diverge strategy-wise.

USA: Sweet, a two-run homer!

Japan: Let's get this guy into scoring position.

As expected, the next batter is asked to bunt. He lays down a perfect bunt down the thirdbase line, moving the runner to second base. (Note: Although the bunt was perfect, it was clear that the FIRST priority for the hitter was to move the runner to second. Which he did.)

The next hitter smacked a fairly weak grounder to second, which moved the runner to third. The swing looked intentional, so I thought, "That's kinda silly. Now only a wild pitch or infield single can score the runner from third. Anything better, and the guy would have scored easily from no need to move the runner to third with one out, silly Japanese guy!"

The next batter hit an infield single.

And it wasn't one of those half-swing jobs, or one of those shots to the hole that a guy dives and catches. This was a pre-meditated, left-handed, beat-the-ball-into-the-ground-and-run-my-ass-off-singles. Jeter fielded it, threw it off his back foot, sailed Derosa, and the runner ducked under the tag, safe at first. IMMEDIATELY, the runner turned to see that his teammate scored, and went apeshit (meaning, slight fist pump and respectful handshake with first base coach).

To make matters worse, this guy then stole second, and Ichiro delivered an RBI single on the next pitch. Only to extend the metaphor, Adam Dunn was there to lazily corral the base hit.

I was listening to the radio the other day, and they were discussing how the US was in a 3 trillion dollar deficit, and Japan had, like, hundreds of billions in reserve. If this is true, the reason is that they are efficient, selfless, and they know what they're doing before they do it.

Baseball teaches another lesson.

P.S. Adam Dunn just struck out looking to end it. What a lazy fat ass.

Monday, March 16, 2009

Oh Fuck: I Never Thought It Would Happen

Holy shit, it's going down.

Oh my god, I'm terrified. I can't sleep. I can't think. I can't eat...well, I can eat. Still, I'm petrified. Shitless.

Louisville's going to win the whole fucking thing. Oh god, I shudder at the thought. Train, I love ya, but I can't see you until at least 2012 if UL cuts down the nets.

How can I justify this?

"What a shitty year in college basketball, right? I mean, Pitt was #1 for chrissakes!"

Let it be known that I will be ruthlessly and unabashedly rooting for everyone else in the tournament, and a UL loss will far supersede any "noise" UK makes in the NI-fucking-T.

Still, holy fuck, it's going to happen. They play actual defense. Every other big team is struggling with injuries. And every UL player can shoot fairly well. Oh god, I'm going to vomit.

Dammit. To think, David Padgett was on the team last year. I hate these assholes. Jerry Smith can choke a wang.

Saturday, March 14, 2009

Friesan Fuckin' Fire!

It's alliterative.

I'm gonna start posting about Derby now that the college basketball season has officially ended for the year, and hopefully it has ended forever for one salty old Texas grit.

Anywho, I just watched the Louisiana Derby, and Friesan Fire looked beyond impressive.

A few things to watch in this clip:

a. The jockey, Gabriel Saez, doesn't even need to hit the horse. He is pulling away with authority all on his own.

b. He is running in about as straight a line as possible, which is rare for horses his age. Normally, you see the jockey steady him up towards the wire, and a lot of times they have trouble changing leads, but not this guy.

c. This was on a sloppy/fast track, so if Derby Day gets a little wet, look out. (that's what she said)

d. Saez is flat STOKED as he crosses the finish line!

Sadly, Gene, Bejerano had to settle for a photo for second.

Thursday, March 12, 2009

Guest Hyper Critical Rant

From a girl! Eww!!!

The future Mrs. Parmesan has taken some random professor to task. It's about soccer, a sport she plays.

How Soccer is Ruining America: A Jeremiad

By Stephen H. Webb

Thursday, March 5, 2009, 12:00 AM

Soccer is running America into the ground, and there is very little anyone can do about it. Social critics have long observed that we live in a therapeutic society that treats young people as if they can do no wrong. Every kid is a winner, and nobody is ever left behind, no matter how many times they watch the ball going the other way. Whether the dumbing down of America or soccer came first is hard to say, but soccer is clearly an important means by which American energy, drive, and competitiveness is being undermined to the point of no return.

Maybe the dumbing down of America has something to do with idiots like you being allowed to teach American college students with no supervision.

What other game, to put it bluntly, is so boring to watch? (Bowling and golf come to mind, but the sound of crashing pins and the sight of the well-attired strolling on perfectly kept greens are at least inherently pleasurable activities.)

Good point, they should add “bowling pins crashing” to those sound machines people use to fall asleep. Also, I see your point with the golf greens. I mean, maybe if they played soccer on highly well-cared for and flawlessly-manicured grass people would…oh wait, they fucking do.

The linear, two-dimensional action of soccer is like the rocking of a boat but without any storm and while the boat has not even left the dock. Think of two posses pursuing their prey in opposite directions without any bullets in their guns. Soccer is the fluoridation of the American sporting scene.

What? Are the opposing posses the other posses’ prey or are they each pursuing different prey? Why don’t they have bullets? Because the field is linear instead of circular? This can’t even be called an analogy because it doesn’t make any sense.

For those who think I jest, let me put forth four points, which is more points than most fans will see in a week of games—and more points than most soccer players have scored since their pee-wee days.

1) Any sport that limits you to using your feet, with the occasional bang of the head, has something very wrong with it. Indeed, soccer is a liberal’s dream of tragedy: It creates an egalitarian playing field by rigorously enforcing a uniform disability.

I believe that disability you’re speaking of is called a rule. And all sports have rules-many of them, in fact. This is why basketball players can’t kick the ball and why baseball players can’t do 'roids and why football players can’t just throw the ball to someone else before they get tackled.

I won’t even address the liberal comment at this time. It’s just too inane to believe that it was even written.

Anthropologists commonly define man according to his use of hands. We have the thumb, an opposable digit that God gave us to distinguish us from animals that walk on all fours. The thumb lets us do things like throw baseballs and fold our hands in prayer. We can even talk with our hands. Have you ever seen a deaf person trying to talk with their feet? When you are really angry and acting like an animal, you kick out with your feet. Only fools punch a wall with their hands. The Iraqi who threw his shoes at President Bush was following his primordial instincts. Showing someone your feet, or sticking your shoes in someone’s face, is the ultimate sign of disrespect. Do kids ever say, “Trick or Treat, smell my hands”? Did Jesus wash his disciples’ hands at the Last Supper? No, hands are divine (they are one of the body parts most frequently attributed to God), while feet are in need of redemption. In all the portraits of God’s wrath, never once is he pictured as wanting to step on us or kick us; he does not stoop that low.

Holy shit, is that really part of your reason for disliking soccer? Because God loves our hands? And because deaf people don’t sign with their feet? How could a person that exists in reality, such as myself, even come up with a response here? Answer: Can’t-it’s too fucking ridiculous.

2) Sporting should be about breaking kids down before you start building them up.

Yes, just the reason I started playing sports when I was 6; so that I could be broken down, military-style, until I was curled in the fetal position, crying, yet begging for more. Fun is for pussies.

Take baseball, for example. When I was a kid, baseball was the most popular sport precisely because it was so demanding. Even its language was intimidating, with bases, bats, strikes, and outs. Striding up to the plate gave each of us a chance to act like we were starring in a Western movie, and tapping the bat to the plate gave us our first experience with inventing self-indulgent personal rituals. The boy chosen to be the pitcher was inevitably the first kid on the team to reach puberty, and he threw a hard ball right at you.

You’re joking, right? I know for a fact that, in T-ball, no one even keeps track of the score and everybody gets to run the bases. But I did forget about those intimidating words…BAT! Scared you, didn’t I?

Thus, you had to face the fear of disfigurement as well as the statistical probability of striking out. The spectacle of your failure was so public that it was like having all of your friends invited to your home to watch your dad forcing you to eat your vegetables. We also spent a lot of time in the outfield chanting, “Hey batter batter!” as if we were Buddhist monks on steroids. Our chanting was compensatory behavior, a way of making the time go by, which is surely why at soccer games today it is the parents who do all of the yelling.

So, time went by slowly in these games? Even though you were shit-your-pants scared of every move you made and spent half the game fearful of getting your face ripped apart by a 6 year old's fastball? I guess these gay old times didn’t occur until after you had built back up following the severe mental and emotional beat down you experienced in 4 year old T-ball?

3) Everyone knows that soccer is a foreign invasion, but few people know exactly what is wrong with that.

And luckily, we have real Americans like you to tell us.

More than having to do with its origin, soccer is a European sport because it is all about death and despair. Americans would never invent a sport where the better you get the less you score.

I know it wasn’t “invented” in America, but don’t you score less as you get better at golf? But that’s beyond the point, because you don’t know what you’re talking about. I believe the correct correlation would be the better the defense gets, the less you, the offense, scores…in certain circumstances, depending on how good your offense actually is and how reliable the other team’s goalie is. In short, what a stupidly bold statement that is not only inaccurate, but also irrelevant.

Even the way most games end, in sudden death, suggests something of an old-fashioned duel. How could anyone enjoy a game where so much energy results in so little advantage, and which typically ends with a penalty kick out, as if it is the audience that needs to be put out of its misery. Shootouts are such an anticlimax to the game and are so unpredictable that the teams might as well flip a coin to see who wins—indeed, they might as well flip the coin before the game, and not play at all.

I’ll give you that shootouts are anticlimactic and that most people would prefer to see the game end some other way. But shootouts are not designed to put the audience out of its misery because most soccer fans aren’t miserable assholes like you.

4) And then there is the question of gender. I know my daughter will kick me when she reads this, but soccer is a game for girls.

Kick you? I hope she legally emancipates herself.

Girls are too smart to waste an entire day playing baseball, and they do not have the bloodlust for football. Soccer penalizes shoving (yep, no shoving in football, true enough!) and burns countless calories, and the margins of victory are almost always too narrow to afford any gloating. As a display of nearly death-defying stamina, soccer mimics the paradigmatic feminine experience of childbirth more than the masculine business of destroying your opponent with insurmountable power.

YOU actually found a woman that would marry and bear children with you?? If I was your wife, and I just read the above statement, you’d see some of that bloodlust that we ladies are apparently indifferent to.

Let me conclude on a note of despair appropriate to my topic. There is no way to run away from soccer, if only because it is a sport all about running. It is as relentless as it is easy

A quote: “As a display of nearly death-defying stamina, soccer mimics the paradigmatic feminine experience of childbirth.” Oh, you said that, like 3 seconds ago. So, tell me, is soccer as difficult as childbirth or is it easy? Pick one, dick.

and it is as tiring to play as it is tedious to watch (and Heaven forbid we get tired while playing a sport). The real tragedy is that soccer is a foreign invasion, but it is not a plot to overthrow America. For those inclined toward paranoia, it would be easy to blame soccer’s success on the political left, which, after all, worked for years to bring European decadence and despair to America. The left tried to make existentialism, Marxism, post-structuralism, and deconstructionism fashionable in order to weaken the clarity, pragmatism, and drive of American culture. What the left could not accomplish through these intellectual fads, one might suspect, they are trying to accomplish through sport.

Yeah, now that American kids are playing soccer, we’re just one little jump away from Marxism. All you just did there was use big words to make an idiotic argument that is wholly political and, in no part, sports-related. Nor, again, does it make sense. But you’re obviously a conservative douche, so you’re well-versed in the smoke and mirrors debate style.

Yet this suspicion would be mistaken. Soccer is of foreign origin, that is certainly true, but its promotion and implementation are thoroughly domestic. Soccer is a self-inflicted wound. Americans have nobody to blame but themselves. Conservative suburban families, the backbone of America, have turned to soccer in droves.

Oh my God, in droves? Before we know it, the real America will be filled with minority-loving gays! GAYS, I TELL YOU!

Baseball is too intimidating, football too brutal, and basketball takes too much time to develop the required skills. American parents in the past several decades are overworked and exhausted, but their children are overweight and neglected. Soccer is the perfect antidote to television and video games. It forces kids to run and run, and everyone can play their role, no matter how minor or irrelevant to the game. Soccer and relevision are the peanut butter and jelly of parenting.

Ahh, the old relevision. There’s no way I can pass up on making fun of a typo, but maybe that’s just old existentialist, Marxist, post-structuralist, deconstructionist, soccer-loving, liberal me.

I should know. I am an overworked teacher, with books to read and books to write, and before I put in a video for the kids to watch while I work in the evenings, they need to have spent some of their energy. Otherwise, they want to play with me!

Just give them a few years. They’re learn what a jackass you are soon enough and then spend their time doing drugs and trying to get pregnant just to spite you instead.

Last year all three of my kids were on three different soccer teams at the same time. My daughter is on a traveling team, and she is quite good. I had to sign a form that said, among other things, I would not do anything embarrassing to her or the team during the game. I told the coach I could not sign it. She was perplexed and worried. “Why not,” she asked? “Are you one of those parents who yells at their kids? “Not at all,” I replied, “I read books on the sidelines during the game, and this embarrasses my daughter to no end.”

It also probably eats away at her soul, since her father is incapable of taking an interest in the things that are important to her. I’m sure she’s well on her way to the path I described above. Hope you taught her about safe sex!

That is my one way of protesting the rise of this pitiful sport. Nonetheless, I must say that my kids and I come home from a soccer game a very happy family.

Umm…worst last sentence to a persuasion piece EVER? So, you hate soccer so much that you object to it even on a political level. You find it un-American. You think it’s too easy (yet, of course, simultaneously too hard). You can’t even make yourself watch your daughter, who is good at it, play it. Yet you come home from a soccer game a very happy family? Bat. Shit. Crazy.

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

inside the cubs

this from

"As for the two-hole, Piniella said they'll play around with it but that he's leaning toward inserting Fukudome there behind Alfonso Soriano."

/ha ha ha fuk u do me next to head to cleveland?

Monday, March 9, 2009

The Big East Tournament.

Is ridiculous, and not in that way where you call someone ridiculous becuase they are really good like "Lebron is ridiculous, yo," it's more like "Billy Gillispie is a ridiculous coach," or "Jed is a ridiculous person." It's kind of like the Regan bit about the ice cream servings; somebody in the Big East office drew up a screwy bracket where some teams get two rounds off and then said "I was just joking but now its going out that way." Unless I've miscalculated, and its possible b/c there are a lot of teams to count, they have 16 teams. That could easily be worked into a 4 round bracket with no byes. Before we have any complaints about how that wouldn't be fair to the conference winner, whoever they were, that team would get DePaul in the first round, which is probably even better than a bye, and then the winner of Prov./Cincy, who they will play in their first game anyway. What this crappy setup allows us is an extra day of ESPN felating of the BE and inevitably letting Mike Ditka and Barry Melrose weigh in on how many bids they'll get.

Thank God, because as a frustrated Kentucky fan, I need something else to occupy some of my hatred right now.

Coaching, With Clyde

As a fictional private investigator (am I fictional? Or an investigator? Neither? Both? You don't know, do you?), I'm adept at unearthing some of the world's most guarded documents. Today, I discovered a packet with information so sensitive it may make your teeth hurt really badly if you were to bite into it. That's right, I found Billy Clyde's coaching philosophy, neatly stapled and collated, and clearly written by a second party, as there is no evidence of rampant double-negative use..

Luckily, no one reads this blog, so the information is safe. Read with caution, though.


Man-to-man at all times. No questions asked. If a player is clearly too short/slow/white to effectively carry out his assignment, tell that pussy to toughen up. If players aren't completely dejected after an opponent's made basket, YELL LOUDER. And demean them in post game press conferences, if necessary. Otherwise, demean the interviewer. More on that later.


Catch the ball, preferably while in the air, after a missed shot. When dealing with a player like Perry Stevenson, who vigorously snatches the ball after made baskets, be sure to hammer home the previous point.


When facing a man-to-man (and the opposing coach would have to be an absolute retard to run a zone), have your best player run off screens to fire threes. If he's off, pray your talented center can get put-backs. This should work 95% of the time.

If el Retardo decides that he wants to be a little bitch and run a zone, set the same screens on the unmoving defenders. Also, flashing the middle is for pansies. The best way to beat a zone is to wear your players out by running them all over the floor, while the defense remains stationary. Eventually, a 30-footer should be open.

Ideally, against a zone, baskets should be as sparse as soccer goals. You want viewers to be astounded when the ball goes in the hoop. Baskets will come as the result of a perfectly executed play that has several stages. Sure it may only happen once every seven or eight possessions, but again, only losers zone.


You want to keep your guys guessing, as well as the opponent. That way, no one really knows what to prepare for. Plus, if your players can't figure out what pleases you, they may do it by accident. Also: bitch about lack of chemistry/execution, though don't change anything. For instance, if your team, say, turns the ball over a lot, don't make any changes, even if it's abundantly clear what the problem is. Toughness should persevere.


Cry at social events, kiss babies, smile for pictures, and get fucking shit-canned at every opportunity. People will constantly give you alcohol; it's awesome. You can't fuck this up.


When asked questions that you don't have a reasonable answer for, attack the questioner. If your team is full of pussies and you're forced to attack them during an interview, be sure to be extra offended if someone mentions a specific player's performance at a later date. Think T.O.'s "that's my quarterback" speech. Perfect execution.

There's probably more, but this should be fine for now.

Saturday, March 7, 2009

Holy Shit, This Kid's Hilarious

I'm pretty late to the party with this youngster, but man, he's hilarious.

These are only three of many. They are the only ones I've seen.

Apparently, he's had Comedy Central specials and such, but I've never seen or heard of him until yesterday. Bo Burnham's the name.


I can't stop watching them...

Friday, March 6, 2009

Gillispie On Porter

Bozich's blog:
"Some days it has been difficult, and some days it hasn't. Michael (Porter) has played very well, and not too many guys are going to make five three-pointers in a game. He ran the game very well and he defended very well.

"He has done as much on his best nights as anyone could ever ask for. On the tough nights, it has been more challenging, but Michael Porter has been great for us. I would hate to imagine what our success level would have been without him."
I like Gillispie's attitude toward his incompetent PG (I mean that in the nicest way possible), but why is Porter impervious to criticism? Perry gets it, Harris gets it, Meeks gets it---why not Porter? Kind of weird, but whatever. At least he's not being a total dick.

I also think that had Galloway and/or Liggins been given a fair shake at the point, they'd be much, much further along at this juncture.

Thursday, March 5, 2009

IU is Sucking Their Way Into My Heart

I get the Big 10 network, and save the random classic Purdue/Michigan games from the early 90's, it's pretty useless. Still, it does a good job of broadcasting every Big 10 game, no matter how shitty it may be.

As you know, IU is the shittiest team ever. They have six wins. They have lost 18 of their last 19 games. They have won once in conference, and 0 times away from home all year. They're abysmal.

And they're about fifty times easier to watch than UK. And, thanks to BTN, I get to see all the IU goodness I can handle! Therefore, I've gotten a chance to see them play quite often. Recently, they played MSU on ESPN for their Senior Night (farewell, Kyle Taber). They lost to the Spartans by five points, but the game was tied (or super close) down the stretch. Matt Roth, a short, white freshman guard was forced to check probable Big 10 POY Kalin Lucas. At times, that was humorous.

Clearly, MSU was vastly superior talent-wise. Lucas, Suton, Morgan--they are a Final 4 threat again. Still, watching IU--the same time that struggled to score 10 first half points against UK in December--was quite frustrating. Not because short white guys have trouble guarding tall black guys, no. But because they would probably beat us today. They play harder, they play smarter, and they have improved mightily over the last couple of months.

This is what a first-year coach's struggles should be. Crean, though, has it worse than most due to Sampson's atrocities. Still, he's coaching guys he knew nothing about in December, and most of them are either a) awful, or b) freshmen. He has still successfully taught them how to play, and they've bought into his system.

Watching IU is hard, because they truly aren't very good. But it's not really mistakes that hurt them. They have guys in the right spots; it just so happens that those guys have no business being on the floor. They run a functioning offense, they play solid defense, and their turnovers have reduced dramatically.

There's really no argument: if both coaches stay at their respective schools, IU will be much better than UK in two years, maybe next year. Crean's got a good crop of freshmen coming in, and the group he has now is getting valuable experience. And, most importantly, his team has improved more in 4 months than Gillispie's has in two years. Tom Crean is a teacher. A greasy-haired, used-car-salesmen-lookin' teacher.

Because of that, IU will continue to improve, and they'll be an NCAA team next year. UK...maybe not.

Wednesday, March 4, 2009

Pitino & Gillispie. Separated at birth?

Mired in the angst that has been a very disappointing stretch for our Cats, an eerie truth has presented itself that must be examined further: The Cardfather (gayest nickname ever, slightly beating out Mavis) and Clyde are bizzaro versions of each other.

In the beginning...

Arrived from New York a slick talking carpetbagger who made us all swoon when he proclaimed that "Kentucky basketball tickets will be the most valuable things on Earth." A mere taste of the incessant barrage of hyperbole that spews from Rick to this day.
Arrived from Texas a slack jawed yokel of a man who made us all swoon when he tricked…er… convinced Pat Patterson to come to UK by promising him 145 shots a game.

Their predacessors:

A classy man who took the program to greatness, was underappreciated late in his term and was effectively forced out the door.


Coeds at UK, Patti Swope, a blow up doll of himself.
Coeds at UK, Janine Edwards, some pregnant chick with a lazy eye working the Hardees drive-thru in Nicholasville.

Post game interviews:


if HE won: "Well I told Edgar that he needed to transfer if he didn't start playing defense so I am a motivational genius."
THEY lost: "I told them that Notre Dame would be ready to play but they just didn't listen to me. George Goode and Terrance Jennings are too dumb to learn the offense."
Cats win: "I've never had a guy like Galloway play so well in a game and so bad in practice, we gotta get tougher and show more leadership"
the current trend: "If I hadn't played that one guy (the thinest of thinly veiled jabs at PSteve) in the 2nd half against LSU we would've won. A.J., Stevenson and Harrelson have to help Patterson, and we gotta get tougher and show more leadership."

The admen:

Berates Rally's employees, chills with Laetner and parties in his undies with Bob Knight and Coach K.
Somehow makes Krogers creepy and thinks its ok to tell ME not to drink and drive.

The attire:

Regarded as one of the best dressed coaches in the country, sleeps in Armani and recently wore a all white suit to celebrate white-out.
Owns a suit, sleeps in whatever he passed out in and may have worn a white hood at some point to celebrate a "white-out."

Questionable personnel moves:

Allows Edgar Sosa to live.
Allowed Mike Porter to dribble against Devan Downey.

Unearned reputation:

Every recruit he signs says that "Coach P. knows how to get me to the pros," a secret that he has only shared with Fran Garcia in the past 10 years. Good luck kids.
Credited as recruiting genius before setting foot in Lexington. He had been at UTEP 2 years and A&M 3 years and recruited virtually none of his contributing players while coaching at each stop. Fingers crossed.

Legacy at UK:

Was generally a dick, but who cares because final fours are fun.
Is a dick, which is a big problem until he gets to a final four. Please God, let him do something good soon.

Fatal Flaws:

Has never stopped talking and contradicts himself constantly. Thought it was mean to impede the vision of Grant Hill. Is undoubtedly king of the douches.
Won't play zone. Thinks timeouts and adjustments are for sissies. Thinks he could coach up a sock to play lock down d on Kobe.