Saturday, February 28, 2009

Schilling a Future Cub?

Worlds are colliding!

these hundred tacos should provide adequate sustainance until the women's college world series!!!

So apparently the BGSU women's team has some sort of long winning streak they are looking to extend today against Kent. Let's just say their attempts at extension are proving very effective on yours truly. Here's a link to the team page. Wow, there are countless jokes i could make about Big Ten basketball vs. the MAC right now, but I am lost in her eyes...

A Really Long Analogy: Tubby and Billy

Imagine, if you will, a man has a wife he has been married to for a number of years. Most years have been really solid, some of the best of his life. A few were disappointing, especially the last few. The man, being a cocky redneck that she dressed up and made respectable, begins to wonder if something else is out there. He needs excitement he felt in his youth when he was banging all kinds hot chicks at BFE High. Maybe if his wife tried harder, worked out a little, and just did more than trying to say the right things, it could work out. Sensing her husband’s frustration, growing discontent and observing him leering at a surprisingly attractive Arby’s assistant manager, she begins to look around herself. “Goddamn” she thinks, “I am the best wife, lover, and cook of any of his retard friends’ wives, and he wants to fuck around on me. I can do better than this dick hole anyway.” So, she begins talking and becomes smitten with the idea of moving far away, just to piss him off, with a man who outwardly seems much more boring and less successful. As good women do though, not those like “Kate” of the “John and Kate + 8” variety, she sees enormous potential in this loser. He’s just down on his luck, living in an old house, affectionately nicknamed “The Barn” and wears really ugly clothes, Gold and Maroon to be exact.

As the University of Kentucky winds up its second basketball season under the bizarre and assholeish tenure of Billy Gillespie, the comparisons to Tubby Smith have quieted dramatically. It’s only natural. Those making the comparisons were the ones who could not be satisfied with obtaining the overall number one seed a few short years. It is completely natural for these thoughts not to be verbalized. They go in the same category as 1) I know I should not have leased this BMW and in will irrevocably damage my credit, but it was fun to pretend at the dealership 2) That trip to “Healing Gardens” for an innocent massage did go too far. Why didn’t they provide condoms? I guess I cannot sue them, technically. Surely I am the only client she has ever had full fledged intercourse with 3) Oh God, I left the campfire burning. It was like a quarter mile to the creek and I was tired and the handle of the bucket really hurt my hand. Now three people are dead. These thoughts are relegated to a part of our brain that only opens after nine drinks when the right mix of people are around. Comparisons to old “Ten-loss Tubby” are gone, not because they were old-hat, but rather much too painful.

Now, Tubby has brought Minnesota back from the dead and Kentucky is hoping for a really lenient NCAA committee that remember who they used to be. Apparently, the man can still coach and recruit, and has an exceptional class coming to the tundra next year from reverse climates such as California and Florida. The years look warm and snuggly ahead. Kentucky, who last year was carried to mediocrity by Ramal Bradley and Joe Crawford, and this year by Patrick Patterson and Jodie Meeks, seems destined to slide even further into irrelevance. Coach Gillespie has made a short career of riding exceptional players to mild success. The very fact that A.C. Law beat Louisville in Rupp (Which also shows a ridiculously miniscule amount of imagination and drive to do a real search for a coach at a place like Kentucky. “Hey, this guy beat Louisville. That’s what we like to do. I hate flying in planes and talking to coaches. You’re hired. We’ll get you a contract in a few months. Try not to be a total redneck retard between now and then.) is essentially how the man got here.

What is most unfortunate is the angst that Kentucky fans must feel knowing what their future holds (to be certain, it is the same as University of Louisville football fans, but that was not of their own choosing). The old colloquialism, “One in the hand is worth two in the bush,” certainly applies. One only needs to look back at the firing of Gene Stallings as the head coach of the Alabama football team to see the likely future of Kentucky basketball. Stallings was a winner, a couple short years removed from the National Championship. Criticisms ranged from he was too old and lost his drive to he didn’t win by enough. From the outside, the criticisms were clearly insane. From the perspective of Pee-Wee football coaches in Dotham, the man clearly had to go. What followed were a succession of failures that included Mike DuBose (briefly and sadly nicknamed “DuBear” after his one win over Florida), Dennis Franchione (nicknamed “Coach Fran” which could be any grandmother filling in for a sick coach in a five year old soccer game, not the “bad-ass, don’t fuck with me image most want as their Alabama coach) and Mike Shula (I promise he was hired because of his merits). The final solution? Throw a billion dollars at someone you know is good. Is this the future at Kentucky? If it is, it’s of their choosing. It is certainly more exciting than a guy who makes the tournament every year, will be in the top 20 most of the time and will represent the university with class and dignity.

Our fictitious husband has married an exciting new girl. She likes to drink and party and seems to be more comfortable around his friends. But warning signs have begun to creep up. She holds weird grudges against kids. She begins to say bizarre things and is not very nice to his parents. There are clearly rough patches early in the marriage. “Wait until we have our own kids,” he thinks, “Then everything will get better. It has to. This was the right thing to do, right?” Meanwhile, through a friend, he hears that his now ex-wife is thriving and planning to go to the biggest party of the year. He is hoping his wife doesn’t screw up the invitation. He just can’t bring himself to voice that he may have made a mistake.

Friday, February 27, 2009

Best Video Ever. Seriously.

Funny You Should Go there, Worm

In actuality, we had a threat like this about five years ago. Someone found a Post-it note in the IMC bathroom that read, "April 24 will be the next Columbine."

We immediately had a faculty meeting, and it was decided that we would 'man up' and attend school anyway.

April 24 rolled around, and as I entered the school building, it was very odd because there were random people there like construction workers and delivery men, and, hell, maybe even an Indian...all clearly undercover cops. (That's an oxymoron.)

Long story short, it ended up being some punk-ass bitch who just did it for attention. No attention was paid him, the school day went as planned, and we all went home a little smarter.

Moral of story: You can't let one douche bag ruin your picnic because it's probably just some pussy kid laughing with his buddies when school gets canceled.

Moral of the story II: St. X didn't allow some spoiled shit head to dictate what we did, and Trinity reacted like a bunch of pussies. You can have the football trophies.

keepin up with the mcveighs

In response to this article, a spokesman for St. Xavier High School said that they would be having a two day security-related threat school closing day thingy. When pressed for comment, the spokesman said, "well, two days is a longer time, and we promise you, ours is a VERY specific threat, so yea...just a lil bit better..."

Lots and Lots of Words

Because I'm some sort of Kentucky masochist, I wade through comments sections and get really angry. Sometimes I punch my computer. What's most frustrating, I think, is how stupid people are. What's second most frustrating, I think, is that these people argue relentlessly with others that will never, ever agree with them.

Typical argument:

"Tubby sucks."
"He was a great guy and he got the most out of his players."
"He couldn't recruit a piece of fried chicken to his mouth."
"Neither could you."
"Good. I'm glad. Because fried chicken is really bad for you."
"I just meant any sort of chicken, because if you get it grilled or something it's fine."
"Eating grilled chicken is gay."
"Really mature."
"You're the one arguing; all I said was that Tubby sucked."
"Well, you suck."
"Whatever, that's what your mom does."
"Really mature."

It goes on like that for some time. Regardless, due to my sleuth-like vision, I was able to glean some actual meaningful insights from these morons. Basically, I see 5 schools of thought concerning BCG. Below, I outline each with their pros and cons:

Tubby Left the Cupboard Bare:
This is probably the most popular of theories. While I think it's insane that people STILL blame Tubby for UK's inability to perform at a very low level, people do---quite frequently. My problem here is that the cupboard wasn't bare. There's a lot to be said about this, which I'll save for another day, but here's the premise: (1) Tubby was, though on a different level, left with a bare cupboard as well. He didn't have "his" players and adjusted his coaching a normal person. Ergo, perhaps BCG shouldn't be so "hard-headed like your mother." (2) Joe Crawford, Ramel Bradley, and Patrick Patterson is enough. How many good players does a team need? Really, a couple will do, if the others are serviceable and know what to do.

I said I wasn't going to get into this, and I won't, but I want to make one point: does anyone else find it ironic that Tubby, at his best (2003-2005), had a tougher team than anyone in the country? And they were a bunch of marginal players.

Wait Until Billy Gets His Players In:
This somewhat mirrors the above sentiment, but with a slight difference. Again, I have to bring Tubby into this.

First of all, this isn't a terrible argument. However, one thing good coaches can do well is communicate. BCG does this very, very poorly. Poor communication with others is a byproduct of being stupid, and it generally leads to utter failure (see "America," 2000-2008). Stupid people, like BCG, are too stupid to listen to anyone else. It's their way or your locker gets cleaned out.

I don't think that a coach asserting his dominance over a team is all bad, but he must let it go both ways and listen to his players. And adjust.

Still, if no one leaves and BCG brings some more guys in next year, we might be good. Maybe.

Give Him a Few Years:
This one also mirrors the previous one, and again, not completely irrational. People love pointing to the progress Meeks and Patterson have made (you can throw Miller in there as well). However, one thing people don't admit is that a) Meeks was a Tubby guy, and b) he and Patterson were good upon arrival. Also, is it totally insane for me to say that after a year of BCG coaching, Patterson has digressed?

That's not really the point here, though. People love pointing to Rich Brooks and what he has done for the football team, though they glaringly omit how fucking shitty that team was. Brooks didn't take over a bowl team; he took over a team on probation. I think the situation is totally different. Plus, rebuilding a basketball team is not nearly as hard as a football team. Look at LSU.

Still, it is not unreasonable to give this guy a third year. And by the way, I reserve the right to call him clueless and stupid until we are good again. Even with all of the talent we should have next year, I still think we'll underachieve.

This Just Isn't Working:
I think if my opinion on this subject were a Venn diagram, the circles representing "give him one more year" and "this isn't working" would have a large overlap. I watched the USC game and thought, 'nope, he's done. Get him out. The guy's clueless.' Then, I think about what could happen next year and how we still have time to make this year's tourney, and I think, 'well, maybe one more year.'

The problem, of course, has been our lack of improvement. It's like we are defiant in terms of fixing what the problems are. For instance, Porter, no matter how hard he tries, cannot handle the point. We've played almost 30 games, and it was obvious after 2. Still, he's there, trying to dribble. You know why Liggins and Galloway are frustrated? Because they have to watch his shitty ass fuck everything up (no offense). Why practice hard when, regardless of what your coach says, it doesn't matter? Worse, why play well? Playing well is the death knell for a bench player.

Further, his defiance towards changing defenses is astounding. Someone in the comments, you know, one of those assholes who says things about the Tampa 2 and shit, said something to the effect of, 'zoning would be stupid, b/c teams like USC would just shoot over it. Plus, we'd be learning new defenses on the fly.'

Sadly, he's right. Now, it's too late to learn these defenses. Had the offseason been spent learning new defenses rather than puking, we wouldn't be in this predicament. Regardless, it's still BCG's fault. We're probably in better shape than anyone, but it doesn't matter when you give Downey his left hand and he blows by you. (Does anyone remember this? They showed the replay a million times. Apparently, Ramon was told Downey couldn't go left, so Ramon shaded his right side. Downey went left and scored an uncontested lay-up. It was a microcosm of Ramon's career.)

It seems more like we are lighlty coached, rather than poorly coached. We don't get outcoached because our schemes are bad; we get outcoached b/c we don't have schemes. We show up, talk about toughness, then the ball is tossed up and every player thinks, 'oh fuck, now what?'

Seriously, is He Drunk or Retarded:
Probably not either of these, but who can tell?

I realize I'm kind of hedging by saying that I think he should be back next year to see what he can do with a team full of talent. Still, I wouldn't say that he deserves it. This team has talent; why can't they win games?

Thursday, February 26, 2009

Allright, new drink...

So here we go!!!
We play like this...if you think Gillespie sat Meeks last night because he was inebriated comment "drunk" on this post.
If you think that Billy C (for Corky) sat Meeks because he has down syndrome/has the retardation comment "Corky".

Well, This is Good News

Oh man, this website rules, if only for the gigantic title.

We’re No Better Than They (Train) Are (Is)

This one hurts to admit.

I always used to tell myself, “Gillispie may not be great, but at least he’s better than Kragthorpe.” Well, he isn’t. In fact, he may be worse. If Kragthorpe has done one thing, it’s unify the fanbase. They all fucking hate that guy, so they’re gonna hunker down and wait until the day he leaves. With Billy G, he has polarized a fanbase with rational individuals who objectively judge results versus racist morons who love his ‘aw shucks, no-nonsense’ attitude (I'm doing the pow-pow-pow Yosemite Sam gun thing with my hands right now).

This hurts me because I loved nothing more this football season than reading the meltdown on, watching the Syracuse losses, our beatdown of them at Papa John’s, Bolen’s numerous stuffings on fourth-and-one, and the farce that they called a kicking game. Now, I’m left to sleep in the bed I’ve made. And that bed is filled with poo.

Ev…er, Gene, covered most of the reasons why Billy sucks, the least of which is the total lack of improvement across the board, so I won’t belabor that. This is more of a compare/contrast essay, and sadly, when it comes to results on the court/field, it’s a lot of compare and very little contrast.

Krags has stupid maxims he uses every press conference (I’m the captain of this ship!), our boy does too (We got whipped!) Krags’ teams quit on him, our guys obviously quit last night. Krags team didn’t build on a momentum gaining win (South Florida), ours didn’t either (Florida or Tennessee). Krags’ personnel decisions are baffling (Vic splitting time), ours are too (LANDON SLONE...NOW?!?!) To throw in a horse racing analogy (which is now my favorite sport of March), it’s a dead heat.

And spare me the “Billy is a top notch recruiter” argument. First off, he embarrassed us with that eighth grader, and even when Orton gets here, Billy will have him out top, guarding another mid-major guard, watching us lose in our season opener. He won’t make them any better. Plus, GET A FUCKING POINT GUARD!!!!

Gene also said something last night that I have thought countless times, ”What the fuck is up with our dad?” He then said something else, “Did you ever think we would be in a position where we had to sweat it out come tournament time?” And with Tubby, we never did. With this guy, two years straight.

And the ‘cupboard bare’ argument sucks. Yeah, Jared Carter is our only senior (and what a Senior Night that will be), but Tubby did his best work with projects like Gerald Fitch, Chuck Hayes, and Erik Daniels. He also made the top notch athletes (Bogans, Prince, Rondo) better all around athletes and NBA players. Plus, when everyone pissed and moaned about his shitty recruits, he went out and got the #1 class in the nation, just to shut everyone up. But, Minnesota sucks right now, so I’m gonna leave this one be.

There is one aspect of this rant that becomes the contrast part of the essay, and it has to do with our AD. We have already seen that Jurich is perfectly fine with fiddling mindlessly as his kingdom burns to the ground, all the while insulting his customers, but Mitch can be better than that. We have an AD that knows he is not bigger than the program. He can fix this, and he needs to do it much sooner than later.

Mitch, go get somebody, anybody. Darrin Horn would be terrific (he’s kicked our ass twice this year), as would Jay Wright (for selfish reasons…rowwwwr!), and I still like John Pelphrey as an option. Look, I know these guys aren’t perfect, but I am ready for the devil-I-don’t-know instead of the douchebag-I-do.

Everybody Just Relax...

Before red issues the 2nd part of his manifesto regarding cologne and remotes...or something, I first need to lay some ground rules down.

This shit is getting out of hand. And yes, what I'm about to say could have easily been typed in an email to red, Dean and Bick, but more posts equal more...wasted time, I suppose.

1) Paragraph Breaks: I don't know why this is so elusive, but there must be a break between paragraphs. That is to say that when you finish your though about splashin' Aqua Velva on your nads, hit enter twice.

Like this. It makes the content much easier to read for our stupid generation that sees long paragraphs and says, 'holy shit, fuck that. That ALL can't be important, right?'

2) Timing: Not that I care too much, but we, Team Tapioca, seem to shoot our collective wad in like a 20 minute span. Now, if all of us had a post concerning last night's, ahem, incident, then that's cool; throw all that shit up. But if you were going to make a 1,500 word rant about, oh, I don't know, remote controls, go ahead and let puppy sit overnight.

Here's how: On the bottom left-hand corner of your text editor (i.e. the place where the words are appearing) there is a horizontal triangle and the words "Post Options." If you click there, three post options will appear. Two of them are pointless, but the one on the bottom right says "Post Time and Date." You can change when the post goes live! What a country!

So if someone has recently posted something and you really have to tell the world that you think Michael Young bails out on sliders when he has two strikes during games in Minnesota after the fourth inning but before the eighth, let it sit a few hours. It won't hurt anybody.

Look people, we're a blog with like 5 readers, let's act like it.

3) Fake Names: My name's not really Gene Parmesan, but let's try to keep proper names out of this. People know who's who, and that's fine, but some people don't. Let's try and keep it that way. I'm looking at you, Bick.

And, for the record, I care way more about (1) than (2,3).

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

Intro - With More to Follow

Given the hubbabelou that has been the last night’s game, I will offer some slight asides that give new flavor to this blog. You can call me Red – you’ll eventually call me an asshole – be it either way. Welcome to my offerings. Realize that any comments or reactive posts will be met will vitriol and crushing reproach, I welcome your thoughts. LET’S GET THIS PARTY STARTED!

Losing the Scent

I consider the idea of cologne slightly archaic. I know of only two reasons to wear cologne – 1 – Most prominent by a wide margin, is to cover up another awkward smell {worm} I’m talking to you directly and – 2 – A first date in which it’s the neck and the crotch being splashed. I consider number two hopeful, but effective if the Applebee’s and the Long Island Ice Tea play the role they’re supposed to at such a reasonable price.

But beyond these occasions I find limited the occasion to slap on the smooth sophistication that is the Agua Velva – from here on out referred to as deep blue. Though it’s color great and the timing and sponsorship during a UK basketball game seems apropos, I have doubts. Seriously, when was the last occasion when you thought, “I really need to impress in this situation, what can I do to send me Over the Top – ala a steroid ripped trucker named Stallone – and just wow the crowd!?” I guarantee you that the answer is not deep blue. It’s not a complicated calculation, it’s not a great chess match.

I would reserve the greatest reaction to the commercial in the representation of this scent of yesteryear being passed down from one generation to the next. The imagined exchange was implied in the commercial, but should truly play out as below:

Dad – [Casually standing in front of the bathroom mirror with his son] “You know, son, I remember the time I shaved just before my first date with your mother. Deep blue gave me the confidence I needed.”
Son – [Wiping off the remnants of his first shave] “Really, you were nervous? I mean, I guess mom was hot back in the day?”
Dad – [Looking back and to the left with bravado, an assurance of confidence] “Hot. And loose like a caboose on greased rails. [Grabbing his crotch through the towel draped around his waist and adjusting slightly.] “My flaming skull tattoo was what gave her the vapors I’m sure, but deep blue didn’t hurt either.”
Son – [Looking unsure and more than slightly unnerved] “Um, dad I don’t think I’m comfortable…” [Turning towards the bathroom door to leave]
Dad – [Pulling on the son’s right arm to keep him in the “moment”] “That’s the key son. Finding the girl that loves the boys and being the man she’ll love the most. That and I banged her like a drum the rest of the night. Thanks to Scrapper at Scraps Tats and Piercings and, maybe, I guess, even deep blue. Mostly Scrapper, though and this sick tat!”

Now, if that was the way the commercial finished out, I ensure you Axe would have nothing on deep blue. Hell, I’d buy the shit in bulk from Costco and give myself a post-shower rinse. However, this is not the reality. This is an imagination that will live in cyberspace, pass through the advertising agency, with which they can only respond by saying, “Well, we thought about that, but, eh, we’re a wholesome brand.” Wholesome, maybe, dying probably even more so. Find it at Walgreens for $1.00. I see it as only slightly more compelling as cologne than it is to a dire-need-of-a-fix to bummed-out alcoholics. When the liquor store is closed and Thunderbird was your go-to, smelling up your insides comes as only a slight distraction for that sweet decline.

So deep blue, realize that your adverts are a waste of time and money. If you realize the scenario above and remove some of the familial implications – you might have a winner on your hands. Otherwise, it’s the same shit you put on your neck and balls when you want to cover up the smell of weed or when you try to get laid by a cheap, dirty, very dirty whore!

She Does More Than Turn it Off and On

There is one true quantifiable understanding of love between and man and a woman. Not to be derogatory, but the love between one man and another, or more tantalizing between two women is inherently different. [Dudes understand instinctively and lesbians don’t care…] No, the greatest display a woman can have for her man is being able to operate his remotes.

We can step back for a second and look at the offerings from Best Buy. The new age Universal Remote, that falls/fails into one of two categories – A – Too expensive or – B – Requires a PhD to setup. Either way, the one controller solution is nullified and tossed out like when she thought your collection of novelty bobble-heads were childish and inappropriate for the guest bedroom.
No, true love is measured when the four remotes sitting on the ottoman are no less mysterious to her than your go-to move after the 500th performance. She understands them both intimately and their connection – hopefully her ultimate pleasure.

[A quick analysis of my own conundrum. The TV remote is basically worthless, unless it is connected to the Cable remote for the simple On/Off function. But, becomes essential for the actual channel change to find the auxiliary functions – Cable 1, Local, BlueRay, Game and possibly Satellite (if you’re an asshole with too much money and will never find the time to watch it all, but like having the choice if you did.) There may be slight association to the tonal image – Movie, Sports or Gaming system if she hasn’t thrown that out as well. However, if you’ve bought a Wii recently for the “fun of it” and how cool it is to “jam” with friends, play tennis or hit the lanes together, you might want to consider shooting yourself in the head right now! This is the saddest reality beyond the fucking body blanket and the lowest point you’ll find beyond the Marinara’s Trench.

Next follows the receiver, which will allow you to enjoy the 5.1 stereo surround sound of any of these fine product choices. Sound quality is further augmented by the precise quality and resonance dictated, again by the requirement. The rest are a simple cascade to the BlueRay, Satellite remote, Game controller – On/Off, fast forward, rewind, pause, channel up/down, etc.]

I know this sounds complicated and I ensure you that it is, but if she can understand it – latch on to her like grim death. Understand that it’s not that she wants to know how this symphony is conducted, but she has studied your maneuvers, your gesticulations within the juggling art and she appreciates it. That, or she wants to understand how to watch Matthew McConaughey bare-chested in digital perfection married to the subtle sounds of his pecks flexing – fill-in your own romantic comedy movie here – Kate Hudson or Penelope Cruz are a good jumping off point! Nevertheless she understands.

In the end, whether it is the TV remote or your own that she is playing with; she likes it and likes what it does for her. If Sony was so smart they’d figure out how to marry the Rabbit and an easy to use Universal Remote. God help us if they do, because we’d all be out of a job and playing with our own remotes endlessly!


Good lord, where to begin.

I guess I should first define the title. Callanwolde is a fictional location devised by author Pat Conroy, and it describes all that is beyond bad and evil. It's worse than the mind can conjure. I might have fucking spelled it wrong, but that's the least of my worries right now. And face it, yours too.

I don't really think my keyboard/sanity can handle a rehashing of the mistakes in tonight's game. They're too plentiful, and frankly, too depressing. Instead, let's cut to the chase.

We all agree now, right? It's over. The little "hey, let's give him time/wait till he's got his guys/I just like 'em 'cause he ain't black" spell has ended, yes? We've done nothing by way of improvement, and goddammit---for all the talk---nothing by way of toughness. We're just as bad as we were when we lost to Gardner-Webb. We don't improve, we don't change, we don't adjust. We stubbornly lay in our own shit.

It's not even about records, really. Or wins and losses. Or, shit, maybe it's entirely about those things. Either way, it's embarrassing. I thought I'd never be so embarrassed after the GW game, then came Houston, San Diego, Vandy, VMI, and now, this. And seriously, I wouldn't be pissed if we had IU type shit-asses (no offense, guys! Keep fightin'!). However, we have good players. Meeks and Patterson are as good as it gets. Miller, Liggins, Galloway and Stewart can play as well. This situation comes down to guys, like Porter and Harris, being put in unfair positions. Look, Harris can't guard Downey and Porter can't dribble past him, you don't have to be around these guys 10 hours a day to see this. Stop the bullshit. Toughness can't bring the ball up the floor. And zones fucking work, too!

It's unexplainable. I've never seen a team more unprepared to play a game and a coach so unwilling to adjust in my life. And it's almost once a week! For as often as this happens, you'd think we'd get more from Gillispie than, "we got whipped." Well no shit, asshole. But why? What went wrong? His inability to explain losses exhibit his ineptitude better than any lowcountry shit-kicking could. "Well, we gotta be tougher and take it personally."

Fuck you. You're an insult to the profession.

Nonsensical Gillispie Message # 2,198

Bench Meeks.

'I'm so mad we're getting our asses kicked, I'm going to sit you down and make you think about it!'

That's the last time Meeks will ever not score 50 in a road game.

just whippin it out there...

I submit that we should henceforth refer to...fuck...gimmie a second to look it up...Samardzija, as "Marge"...I like "the shark" too, don't get me wrong, but I think that "Marge" works on several levels...thoughts???

I'm Fuckin' Nervous

In Billy G's first year and a half, I have never seen so many "biggest game(s) of the year." But, I see no way they can keep us out if we win tonight, and I see no way they invite us in if we lose tonight.

Gene, you should do a blog thingy like last's good luck.

Oh yeah, Patterson will have the worst game ever.

read it here! exciting news re: the big blue!!!

Ya know how there's that guy who called the other guy and said that the Dodgers were gonna sign Manny? Are you guys curious as to why his parents named him a cuss word?

Anyway, if anybody gets this far, i feel the need to tell you now (spoiler alert) this post has nothing to do with UK, after this paragraph. I am currently watching the Cats game...Devin Downey just went thru Michael Porter's back door, apparently...(R.I.P. him indeed!)...anywho, here is why I am vomiting tears now. I just realized as that for the last few years now, this has become the time of year that i actually turn my focus to hopes of a great Cubs season to ease my pain over UK's March prospects. That, my friends is, in the words of the great Daffy the Duck, a revoltin development.

anyway on to the big (Dodger) blue...
Joe torre sez that "from his experience" Manny was not just sitting around" out there. He further intimated that he actually believes that Manny is "working out"...i swear to a lower case god (J Mack), that he honest to goodness said that he believed Manny was working out.

Really, can anybody even imagine that? If I swore off porn for the rest of my life, I could not hone my imagination to the requisite sharpness it requires to even concieve of Manny working out. I can imagine Manny playing Animal Crossing all day. I can imagine Manny shopping bulk for do-rags. I can definitely picture Manny taking a leisurely stroll across a pond that was recently frozen by the chill of pure evil that surely eminates from beneath the robes of his agent. I cannot envision Manny doing those trunk-twisty things that baseball players seem to do a lot of. Nor can I see him leaving his house to hit in a batting cage. When I think about Manny chasing a chicken around, well I guess that could be done for training purposes, but it's always at a petting zoo. Plus, I always got the feeling that Manny was more along becasue Papi wanted to go!

Well now we get a glimpse into just how worthless Joe Torre's experience must be. First of all, what does Joe Torre know of Manny's offseason habits? Manny came to L.A. looking like the kid who returns to class fresh from the principal's office. He was focused when he came off his little suspension from the Sox and subsequent deal to the Dodgers. Manny has proven that he cannot maintain focus oftentimes through an entire defensive chance, how the hell does Joe Torre believe he can suddenly do so for an entire, now protracted offseason?

Also, he wasn't purely playing hard; he was playing scared. Manny used to dwell at the very top of the shadow cast by shaq. you know the one. It's the one that allows you to operate with a practical carte blanche in America if you are a productive enough athletic commodity that people will put up with all the bullshit that comes along with your " big personality". Manny got exposed as being selfish and disingenuous at the very least last year. I would go so far as to say he comes off like a complete douche now.

The fact is, had Manny been willing to see it through and get himself into a spring training situation or at least show some inclination to at least perpitrate to have some modicum of desire to get there, I personally would have wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. But it seems that Manny is more than happy to pretty much just sit there as has always been his custom, citing his self proclaimed "laid back" attitude as cover for the fact that he is actually a disinterested, vain, jackass. I think this is a further indication that managers in baseball really do as little (as far as actual effect on a team) as it would seem they do, or at least they actually know that little. Either that, or Torre just doesn't give a fuck anymore. His spirit was truly broken in New York and it just took a year or more for the cancer to manifest itself. Now he just wants to pull a Costanza upon his inevitable exit and is already positioning himself to really get canned.

ESPN Public Service Announcement

Tiger's back! And you better start giving a shit, or Sportscenter will be unbearable!

Look, I realize he's probably the greatest golfer ever, and definitely the greatest to yell FUCK! after hitting a drive into the ocean, but subjecting Jason Sobel to live blog the event for is a little much, dontcha think? I mean, it's the first round.

Full disclosure: I'm currently watching the tournament.

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

I Didn't Realize This Was an Option

A little baseball aside: Apparently, the Cubs are looking to fill their fifth starter spot (Zambrano, Harden, Dumpster, Lilly). First shot: The Shark. O...........K.........

I don't know who the other "shots" will go to, but hopefully it doesn't end in Samardjizaisjbnsbx's hands. His fastball doesn't move. At all. And people hit it far.

In other news, Marmol isn't playing in the WBC, and will be the closer.

The Reds eat peoples asses.

Friday, February 20, 2009

Making Fun of Professionals

I'm pretty sure this is the best way to get work in the industry. I'm again going to make fun of a successful, well-known columnist. Still, he says some stupid shit.

Michael Rosenberg is a columnist for Fox Sports and the Detroit Free-Press. If the words he writes are any indication, he is an asshat:

Tourney's greatness makes regular season suffer

This is going to be too easy.

Pittsburgh is about to play Connecticut in a matchup of top-five teams. North Carolina just beat Duke at Cameron Indoor Stadium in another matchup of national-title contenders.

Are you watching? I suspect most of us are not.

First of all, and this isn't entirely your fault, but "matchup" isn't a word. That's OK, because you say something way stupider in your first 2 sentences. In short, yes, I'm watching. A lot of people watched UNC/Duke. Something like 3.3 million of them. I know, because I looked it up. It wasn't hard.

Is that good? Well, it was the second most-watched show in the 18-49 demographic that night. I'd say the NCAA isn't too upset. Still, even if the numbers differ from college football, there's good reason: football is on Saturdays. Plus, you only see your team once a week.

And come fall, so many of us will scream and whine and shake our heads at the Bowl Championship Series and demand a big fat college football playoff.

Now, I ask again: Are you watching?

You know, he's right! We should all...wait, what? Am I watching what?

A month from now, college basketball will present us with the best postseason in American sports. In the meantime, we have to talk ourselves into thinking that when two of the best teams in the country face each other, it's a big game. The weirdest part of college basketball is that late in the regular season, the biggest games are the ones between two pretty good teams, not two great ones. Those are the games in which NCAA tournament bids are on the line.

Um, OK. I'm kind of catching your stupid drift. However, still, teams play for seeding and pride and shit. Beyond that, you're nullifying your own point: at the end of college football's regular season, fans you are describing only give a shit about five or six teams. In CBB, since the lesser squads have more to play for, the games are more interesting. Hence, Championship Week, which is awesome, despite the fact shitty teams are playing.

Also, I'm not sure I understand. Are college basketball attendance numbers down or something? It seems unprofessional to make such an attack based on assumptions.

Hey, that's a deal college basketball accepted long ago. The sport sacrifices four months of intrigue for three weeks of delightful insanity.

I guess it's kind of like me, sacrificing 4 minutes of zero intrigue in you overly-contrarian article for 3 seconds of delight when I print it out and take a dump on it.

But there is a lesson here for college football fans and more importantly, for the people who run the BCS. The BCS is horribly flawed, we all know that. It claims to be something it is not. BCS logic dictates that if you label one team No. 1 and another No. 2, and put them together on the field, you have yourself a national championship game no matter how you come up with those labels.

Well this is off topic. But yes, the BCS is horribly flawed.

And yet, if you replace the BCS, you have to be very, very careful. College football still has the best regular season in all of sports. If USC played Notre Dame in late November, and both teams were ranked in the top five, but you knew that no matter who won, they would both end up in a playoff, what would you have?

An awesome regular season game. And apparently, you haven't watched college football since 1991. Notre Dame sucks now, pal.

Some people, and this may sound crazy, like sports. That is to say, some people, again, I know how crazy this sounds, like to watch football and basketball. It's a reason to get drunk with your friends and yell at a TV. It's awesome. Tell me, with a straight face, that if someone said, "hey, turn this crappy UConn/Pitt game off. I mean, who cares until March, right?" you wouldn't kick them where their balls should be. Your argument is like someone saying, "what are you doing, watching a movie? Why? This will have no effect on the British Open champion, you know."

Basically, your life isn't a fucking BW3's commercial. Sometimes games aren't of utmost importance. Still, watching UNC/Duke in February is still exciting for those of us not completely burnt-out on sports. But hey, that's the deal you accepted a long time ago when you became a sports reporter.

Duke-North Carolina, that's what. There are those that argue Duke-North Carolina is the best rivalry in sports. I love Duke-Carolina, but come on: How can it be the best rivalry in sports?

You watch too much ESPN. Go on.

When was the last time Duke knocked Carolina out of the national title hunt, like Florida and Florida State have done on a regular basis? How can UNC-Duke be the best rivalry when bragging rights are often split in a given year? I don't know what the state of Alabama would do if Auburn and 'Bama each beat each other in football one year. Probably just shut down and spend a year in collective therapy.

By your logic, about three games would matter a year. The SEC Football Championship, the Big 12 Championship, and USC v. some shit-ass team out west. I hate to belabor the same point, but some people like sports. And watching others compete. Because college athletes are good. And dunks are cool.

I like college basketball. But I don't truly love it until March, when the best teams play with genuine tension in the building. And since everybody complains about college football's postseason, maybe we ought to realize there is a tradeoff here. College hoops is on the other side of the coin.

First of all, define "not genuine tension." I would say that there was genuine tension in the UK/Florida game, and probably 20 others since conference play began.

And there is no going back. Syracuse coach Jim Boeheim actually wants to expand the tourney. Boeheim has been on that kick for several years and seems to think a 128-team field would be just great. I understand why Boeheim feels that way -- his team would be a lock to make the tournament every year, and a 128-team field might save some coaches' jobs.

A 128-team field is stupid. Good call.

Hey, coach. While we're at it, why keep score in the regular season at all? Just let the kids play for the thrill of it and see if they can still get a TV deal.

Oh, haha, you're just being humorous. LOL.

You know, you have a really terrible argument here. Do you know what makes it worse? I'll tell you: lack of research, lack of cohesive argument, and lack of solution to the "problem." Seriously, do you want a 12 game college basketball season?

I assume this was rapidly thrown together as the typical, "hey, that Rosenberg sure takes some crazy stances" article.

Thursday, February 19, 2009

My Noodle's In Over-drive

Guys, I've got a great idea. Seriously, this will turn the blog into something of legend. It's going to knock your socks right off! You'll probably shit your pants. Oh man, you're going to be blown away. Ready?

We'll do a Mt. Rushmore of sports! I know, right?! OK, hear me out. Everyday I'll point my webcam at the blue screen I've devised in my apartment. In the background, will be a blank Mt. Rushmore (creepy, right?). Then, in my khakis and golf sweater (because I'm just one of you!), I'll awkwardly lean forward and shout at you. Oh man, this will be epic. The best part is, it's a really original idea!

Wow. I thought Reilly going to ESPN was a sell-out move, but I had no idea it would be to this degree. I don't give a shit who's on Mississippi's Mt. Rushmore. There is no Mt. Rushmore in Mississippi. It's pointless. Can't this feature be web-only?

I know of railed on this before in this space, but good heavens, enough with the subjective lists, ESPN. I don't know if you're to blame or the idiot citizenry that can't watch TV without being able to constantly interact with Jay Fucking Harris.

Maybe UK's Dumber Than I Thought

Gillispie speaketh:

"It (no Patterson, Meeks not scoring 168 points) makes (the margin for error) smaller, but it doesn't make excuses for guys going to the wrong spots," Gillispie said. "We've played a lot of games already. We're making some mistakes where guys go to the wrong spots.

"It all comes back on coaching, No. 1, period. But you're out of a timeout and they go exactly to the wrong spot when you draw the play up for them -- that's where your margin for error is destroyed."

Uh, yeah. First of all, bravo! Not a single double negative! Secondly, does anyone not believe this? Can't you see Gillispie explicitly telling Perry to stand on the low block, and then watching his lanky ass wander to the elbow?

Maybe he's right. Maybe he has a team of morons.

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

Ohhhh man, did Stevenson ever suck!

I'm not right about everything, and I asked almost everyone who reads this (Tommy and Evan) last night, but I will ask it again, "Can we all agree now that Perry is terrible?"

I hope he makes a big, fat liar outta me, but I don't see it happening. It's shameful that, in the absence of Patterson, he couldn't be the guy to step up and handle the inside. He has hands of stone, rarely gets in good rebounding position, and sells out for the blocked shot EVERY time (the last two go hand-in-hand).

Also, I'll go ahead and take the bullet for Gene here, but the officiating sucked bad.

-The Galloway foul on the rebound made NO sense. He took the ball away from the rebounder cleanly and was whistled for a nice hustle play.
- I know Deandre is out of control and probably a loud mouth, but the series in which he got two off the ball fouls in TEN SECONDS was as blatant a power-trip as I have seen in a while.
- Sticking with Liggins, his charge on Ogilvy wasn't even close. If sliding on your knees through the lane is "getting position," then I guess Ogilvy got there.
- Meeks was completely mugged late in the game when he got two tries from point blank. His first shot was blocked cleanly, and they then proceeded to hit him in the face on the second try.
- 15 of their first 30 points were from the stripe. And don't tell me they were taking it to the rack every time. When a white guy fell, somebody was getting a foul called on them. End of story.
- AJ Stewart, although late to the spot on defense most of the evening, had a phantom and-one called against him early on.
- Look. They shot 40 fuckin' free throws. It's VANDY...they ain't that physical.

Would we have won? Probably not. But, I will agree with Gene, who texted last night at one point, that the calls were "weird." Plus, say what you want about Billy, but Stallings is the whiniest bag of shit in the conference...hands down.

Let the People Speak!

It's getting ugly on the fan front, and people are starting to really go after Gillispie, Stevenson, Harris, and Porter.

The one retort I consistently see is some wise-ass saying, "OK, you guys can keep bitching about the SEC Coach of the Year. Give him time!"

Being the SEC COY is like having the best ass at Centre. Nice, be proud, but once you look around, it's not that impressive. I mean, who else is it going to go to? They all suck. The great paradox of the situation is that if Gillispie had really coached well last season, he probably wouldn't have won. Had we entered conference play with 3 losses instead of a million, 12-4 would've been fine, but not great. He was rewarded for not being as shitty as he was at the beginning of the season.

Let's Be Professional About This

I'm not sure how the AD and head coaches interact, but I have an idea. I assume that, once the season ends, they talk about the direction of the program, some goals, some regrets, and what they can do moving forward. I could be wrong, but I'm probably close.

With Gillispie and Barnhart, I don't see that dynamic. I imagine the athletic office being very somber, Gillispie entering Barnhart's office, and both men sitting and staring at one another. After several tense minutes, Barnhart will rise and shut the door. At this time, they will both loosen their ties, relax, and laugh maniacally. Because what the fuck?

I doubt this would ever occur, but I don't think that it would be unfair for Barnhart, once the season ends, to call Gillispie to his office and force him to watch film.

First, he'd pop in the VMI game, and say, "Billy, what the fuck?" Then the Ole Miss game. Then the Mississippi State game. Then last night's game. Hell, he may even show him some tape from games that UK won. All the while he'd ask the same question, "what the fuck?"

As in, what's our plan? Is it really for Meeks to score 45 every game? Because that's how it looks. Meeks is great and deserves the ball every possession, but we have to have some other plan if he's stopped. I know last night was more difficult without Patterson, but still, there have to be other options.

After discussing the team's play, I'd imagine they'd have to go into the personnel issues. As in, why does Ramon Harris play more than Galloway? Why does Michael Porter play more than Liggins? Why does Michael Porter play point guard? Why didn't Harrellson play more against Vandy? You know, perhaps Liggins wouldn't play with his face on fire if he knew he was allowed more than 3 minutes or 1/2 of a mistake. It's very confusing, Billy, because it's so arbitrary. You understand, don't you?

Gillispie would then offer some variation of "aw shucks" and cry. We'll be going through this same cycle next year. We still have not improved a bit since day one of 2007.

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

If You Need a Confidence Boost, Play Notre Dame

So, cheer sheets. Absurd, yes? Duke does it, Notre Dame does it,other people probably do it, and it's sad. The fact that students must be given cues to cheer is pathetic. Duke was notoriously burned a few years back, but they continue the practice of scripting spontaneity. Notre Dame, apparently, does the same thing. And let me tell you, playing in South Bend must be hell.

I suspect cheer sheets began when confused students entered a basketball arena for the first time and asked for their syllabus. If you pay attention to the crowd at a Duke game, you'll notice that 98% of it is either Asian people, squares, or broke chicks. Eventually, the 2% that remains---which consists of kids from Jersey---decided to type up a guide so that this fours eyes stops bustin' my bawls abouts this, c'mon! I'm watchin' Greggie go dick-out here, ands alls yous askins is abouts our clap formation! It's clap-clap-fist up!

Unless the ND students' plan was to render USF players ineffective by taunting them with really long strings of facts from their media guide bio and niceties, this was the worst attempt at rattling an opposing team in history. Where did it go wrong?

Eladio Espinosa: "Frosh started 10 games but only averages 2 points. LAME."

First of all, and I guess this goes for all of them, are these to be chanted? What can be gleaned from this tidbit and used to "jeer?" 'Nice 10 starts as a freshman, loser. (fist pump, high five).'

Mike Mercer: "Blew out his ACL two years ago while playing for Georgia. Ask how that knee feels."

Mercer: Uh, fine, I guess. Thanks for...asking. What's this all about, anyway?

Chris Howard: "This junior has already been a father for five years! Sophomore year of high school."

That just seems inappropriate.

Gaby Belardo: "6-2, 180 pounds"

This could have just as easily been, "Division-I athlete." THE GUY'S FUCKING NAME IS 'GABY.' If you're planning to be curt with this one, pouncing on his size is not the way to go.

'He's only 180 LOL!'...'Ha, what's his name?'...'Don't worry about it. He's done!'

B.J. Daniels: "School of heckling lesson 1: kids named B.J. are the easiest targets ever. Also, he plays quarterback for the Bulls football team. Played in two games, rushed three times for two yards total."

'Your name means blow job...OK, now what?!' He was also a freshman QB on a pretty good team, and played in a couple of games. I'd assume he's proud of that. School of heckling lesson 2: don't compliment the people you intend to embarrass.

Justin Leemow: "Plays a pretty weak game. Shoots 23% from the field and 44% from the stripe. Yucka."

'We'll just call him yucka. He'll understand.'

Alex Rivas: "Transfer from Pratt Community College brings an intimidating 2 pts. and 4 boards to each game."

He plays fourteen minutes a game. He's a sub.

Ryan Kardok: "Now walk it out. Walk it out. East side walk it out, west side walk it out (sorry, he's a walk on)."

'Why you sorry, brah?! That shit's the tits!' So you're going to serenade this guy with a popular rap song? It would take at least 20 seconds of a bunch of white kids embarrassingly rapping before anyone understood what the song was referencing.

USF team huddle before the game: 'Why's Ryan crying?'...'Did you not hear the chant a minute ago?'...'No, what happened?'...'They sang 'Walk it Out.'...'So?'...'He's a walk-on.'...'Oh. Right.'

Dominique Jones: "Soph is team's best player. Give him as warm of a welcome as the other Dominique [sic...maybe] J. (hatred)"

I guess they hate Dominic James? Or someone else named Dominique. 'OK, boo the best player. You know, I think we're on to something!'

Mitch Emory: "My man mitch has only played one minute this year. Maybe if he had a sweet slogan like our governor he might be able to lobby for more minutes."

First, you're heckling a kid that plays a minute a game? Second, they have no fucking clue who Mitch Daniels is. This "jeer" would require you briefing the opposing team on local politics before the game.

ND students: 'OK, Indiana's governor is named Mitch Daniels. His slogan is 'My Man Mitch.'
USF team: 'OK. Why are you telling us this?'
ND students: 'Oh, you'll find out. (high five, high five, scream of 'yucka!')'

Jesus Verdejo: "Don't mock this kid's name or his father might smite you."

No Jesus Shuttleworth joke?

Augustus Gilchrist: "When he scores Augustus is known to thump his chest and say, "Strength and Honor."

Is he now? So, what are you guys going to do with that?

Aris Williams: "This kid shoots an embarrassing 31% from the free-throw line! 10-32! That's horrendous!"

That is horrendous. Again, how will this be fitted into a quip?

Ajayi Mobolaji: "This is Ajayi's third college. Hope he finally fits in here. 44% FT."

Thanks for the update.

What a bunch of fucking nerds.

Monday, February 16, 2009

Before I Forget...

Alternate title: Before Gillispie Fucks It Up.

I'd be remiss if I didn't express my satisfaction with both the game plan and execution Saturday. We defended, scored (well, Meeks scored), and ran an actual offense at times. A few times in the first half I noticed that we were calling plays after they set up their offense. Do you know what that means? We scouted! I suspect Gillispie figured that, without Patterson, he'd have to do some actual coaching.

We were in a similar situation as Louisville when they got shit-on in South Bend. Granted, ND is better than Arkansas, but UL is better than UK, also. I was afraid they'd take all their frustrations out on us. We didn't let them, and we kept it from even being close. So, holy shit, bravo.

Sunday, February 15, 2009

Step Fucking Nutsac Brothers Drumset Ha Ha But We're 40!

That may as well have been the title of Step Brothers, because it was basically the crux of every joke. And John C. Reilly sucks. And is not funny.

I reason:

Gratuitous Sex Jokes: I am not a prude, nor am I high-minded or even smart. However, the jokes in this movie were pathetic. How many times will this Apatow guy go back to the dick/pussy joke? We get it; people have sex, and sex jokes are funny, but you punched yourself out in Superbad. And his annoying little habit of making the joke go one step further is just that, annoying. Usually, his little quip isn't funny to begin with, so when it lasts an extra 3 minutes, it's infuriating.

Manufactured Jokes: This trend began with 40 Year Old Virgin, which is hilarious, but came to a head in this shitty piece of shit. Apatow, to me, is the guy that thinks of these great zings!, but lacks the artistic creativity to insert them at the appropriate time. Instead, he just lumps them all into one script, and hands that script to Reilly and Will Ferrell and says, "here, make a joke about kissing Kenny Rogers on the mouth, and we got a hit!"

Adding Fuck Doesn't Always Work: I agree that adding fuck before phrases or words can sometimes be funny or effective dramatically. However, when you add it to every single line, it loses its luster, so to speak. We get it, even old people say fuck.

John C. Reilly Licks Camel Penises: OK, that was sort of funny. Still, this guy, is not. He wasn't in that Ricky Bobby movie, and he wasn't funny here. He tries to play the same old, tired schtick as Ferrell, and he's about half as funny. He is fast becoming the Rob Schneider to Ferrell's Sandler. He's less funny than that Tex asshole from Anchorman. 'Have some chicken, maybe some sex. OH MAN I TOTALLY LOL'D!'

Forced Dialogue: This is a comedy. I know. But would it kill you to sort of base the dialogue in reality? People never, ever talk like that. Ever. For one, no one is quick-witted enough to drop a perfectly executed 45 second "quip." That's why they're quips, or one-liners. Also, you can't make characters too insane or removed from reality. If you do, people can't draw from their own experiences. The funniest part of the movie was when they acted normal at that really big event that got no build-up so it didn't make sense in the movie's context, because this film had...

Zero Plot: Again, I don't intend to be the Ebert of Rant-tastic, but what was this movie about? 40 Year Old Virgin had a point, Superbad had a point, Ricky Bobby had a point. Again, this was just like Apatow's joke cemetary: a place to get all his hilaaaaaaaaaarious jokes to the world. Or Ferrell's jokes, for that matter. A lot of them had his stamp on it, so maybe I'm unfairly giving Apatow the business. Ferrell's falling off. And I yield to a man much wiser than me to explicate such a controversial stance. You can go ahead and ignore the part where he says John C. Reilly's hilarious.

'Oh Look, He's Swinging a Bicycle': Awful.

In closing, the chick from Clifford is a hot old woman. Clifford. Now that's a movie!

Saturday, February 14, 2009

I Don't Care What the Stats Say

I watched the game at Arkansas, and the Razor is not getting it done. My man TDunk22 (now known as playgalloway) is an idiot, I'll grant you that. But, he put up a post about Gillispie not playing Galloway enough at Arkansas. Now, he worded it poorly and was trying to get a rise out of everybody, and he did. But, almost to a man, every person that posted was RAVING about the play of Ramon Harris.

So, I go over to another UK blog that Gene writes for, and sure enough, the ringleader on that blog said that it was "one of the best games Ramon has played" (sic).

What game was I watching? Harris sucks bad, and if I were Galloway, I would transfer and tell Billy to shove it up his ass.

Yeah, we won. But, this game may have been fool's gold again (UT game) because if Meeks doesn't have a superhuman effort each game, we will fuckin' lose with Ramon out there.

P.S. Perry sucked again.

P.P.S. People on message boards are usually stupid, but I dare you to read this thread and disagree with what he says. (Please ignore the misspellings.)

This One's for You, Gayvis

Friday, February 13, 2009

I'm Gonna Do that Thing Gene Does

OK, so I was reading the Readers' Corner in the Sports section today, and I don't know who's screening these things, but I can't believe this is the one they picked. Here is the full letter. Hopefully, someone else read this and thought it was woefully stupid. Here goes (his are in bold):

Title: Current Wildcats are 'Team Tapioca'

The 2008-09 Wildcats have earned the moniker 'Team Tapioca' with their play.

Ohhhh, I'm intrigued.

They are soft, mushy and too sweet for their own good.

Too sweet, huh? I don't know what could possibly be viewed as 'sweet' when referencing this team. Even when succeeding, they scrap for everything they get.

Unflavorful, unappealing and too easy to prepare;

Two things: I just thought you said they were 'too sweet.' How the fuck are they all of a sudden 'unflavorful?' It's either sweet or bland, dickface.

Second, teams aren't 'easy to prepare.' You don't prepare teams. If a coach is preparing a team, then wouldn't it be good if they were easy to prepare? What you meant was they're easy to prepare for, but you don't prepare for pudding, do you, dipshit? So your analogy sucks.

...uncoordinated, awkward, and downright yellow in color;

Tell me one time in your life when you described, fuck it, any food, uncoordinated.

And apparently we're 'yellow in color.' Had he said just yellow, I get it, we're scared. Instead, you fucked it up by saying yellow in color. Not one Asian. No idea where that came from.

...easily burnt when heated and frequently tasteless.

Burnt when heated I guess means when it gets tight we get burnt...fine. But again with the tasteless. He could've avoided all this ambiguity by just striking the 'sweet' line, but he stuck with it.

Because they are so simple, no adjustments are ever needed.

I lose him here. We don't adjust, or the other team doesn't need to. First off, people sure as shit adjusted when Meeks started to explode, and now teams may have to figure out Galloway. Plus, how do you adjust pudding?

And because there is little else like it, there is no substituting.

This guy means 'There is no substitute.' But, again, it wouldn't make sense in the basketball analogy. And, WE SUBSTITUTE ALL THE FUCKIN' TIME. Billy G takes constant heat for his odd sub patterns. And who is ever like, "Wow, tapioca pudding is one in a million. There is no substituting." That sounds retarded.

They get old quick (got it), are easily stirred (got it), and often give you a headache (lost me).

If tapioca pudding gives you a headache, then I ate a shitload of it the night of my bachelor party.

They miss the mark well over half the time.

When has pudding ever not satisfied your expectations? It's pudding. If you don't want it, don't spoon it onto your plate at the salad bar. And UK shoots 49% from the floor for the season. The stupid analogy works on neither level.

Always leaves you with regrets and cursing under your breath.

If pudding makes you cuss, you need counseling. Again, it's pudding. Don't eat it if you don't like it.

And when they are enjoyed, their consumption will cause many people to break something.

If they are 'enjoyed,' then people like what's happening.

You don't 'consume' basketball.

And, again, when has pudding ever made you break something?

They are 'Team Tapioca.'

Ahhh, the ol' Bozich move. Repeat your topic in the last line as if you've reinforced it.

Well, that's it. This dipshit thought we would forget his analogy throughout this ridiculous diatribe, but he needs to realize the readership of a metro newspaper isn't as deficient as his dumbass grandkids are.

Woody Paige Is Not Impressed By Chumbawumba

No introduction needed. Woody Paige is stupid. OK, a slight introduction:

Woody - You were pretty hard on Jodie Meeks and his 54-point performance against Tennessee. Would you have been a little more enthusiastic if it weren't against your alma mater?
-- Tom Buschermohle, Louisville, Ky.

Tom - I wasn't hard on Meeks. I just said I didn't think it was that big a deal. And it had nothing to do with Tennessee. I saw Pete Maravich do it several times. I saw several other players accomplish the feat. And it doesn't matter what I think, anyway.

I was accused by Kentuckians of being biased against Kentucky basketball. I spent a year, almost every night, with Adolph Rupp, and I came to have the utmost respect for the program (except that Rupp was so late to recruit black players), and I loved Dan Issel and Louie Dampier, for instance. Just show me, Jodie, that you can do it again. One-hit wonders don't impress me.

First of all, Buschermohle is made up. No question about it.

Now, for Woody's asinine answer. He didn't see it as a big deal. Besides, crappy ol' Pete Maravich did it all the time. Do it again, Jodie, if you want to impress Woody. Go out on the road and score 54 against a good team...again. Then he'll be impressed. Woody's right about one thing, though: what he thinks doesn't matter.

Also, are we to assume that Meeks hasn't had an impressive season without the UT game? Had he gone for 30, he'd still be one of the country's top scorers.

I think the media, as a whole, reacted properly in the aftermath. It led Sportscenter, people kind of freaked out about it, and he got a ton of deserved praise and attention. However, if Stephen Curry would have scored 54, ESPN would still be digging themselves out of a pile of their own man-juice.

He HAWKED on my burger...

I'm sure we all remember the scene from Dumb and Dumber when Lloyd and Harry are in the diner. Remember how Lloyd just cowers there whilst Sea Bass comes over and punks out Harry? I imagine Peter Farrelly, pre shoot, coaching Jim Carrey

" now your motivation here is complete and total fear...imagine that you someday have to make a sequel to "The Mask"...too scary? Okay, your only concern is getting out of this diner in one piece."

I think about that scene, then I think about Bud Selig. The similarities between the commissioner and the "We Got Worms" boys actually extends past the apparently negligible IQs and the four dollar haircuts. On Monday, A-Rod was like Harry in the diner. He was scared shitless, having to face the music all alone, for he alone lost control of the salt (in this case a metaphor for his poor decision to apparently take Juan Gonzalez as a career role model). Anyway, in both instances Harry/A Rod each got reamed by stupid, inbred rednecks (Sea Bass/Roy Oswalt).

And, if you recall, Lloyd's next line to Harry is "boy, you really wimped out". He says this despite the fact that when given the opportunity to step up and do something to change his untenable situation, Lloyd just punks out and cowers, pointing his finger at Harry, while steadfastly avoiding eye contact with Sea Bass, or the members of his incest posse (again, here I just wanna remind you, Roy Oswalt is an uncle fucker). Lloyd has the audacity to accuse Harry of being a pussy, while ignoring the fact that his own lack of action makes him every bit the pussy that Harry is. You guys see where I am going with this? (That's right, fuck Roy Oswalt, but there's more!)

I would love to say that Bud Selig is a moron, but he's not. He's a lawyer, and a very rich and successful one at that. This fact makes it even more mind boggling that Selig could ever think that this whole steroids thing would just blow over. It is a cliche' by now to say that Selig buried his head in the sand for the first what seven or eight years of the so called steroid era? Still, the fact remains that for whatever reason, Selig chose to just look the other way for as long as he could get away with.

Now, A-Rod, the supposed great hope of baseball is forced to go public and admit that he used something. Like five years ago. Back when it was not illegal in baseball. And this silly bitch has the nerve to say, initially that Rodriguez would be punished for this. For allegedly failing an allegedly anonymous test, that was somehow leaked by somebody, multiple years after the fact. It seems to me that is an awfully big Pandora's box to be opened by such a pussy.

Let's not forget that Selig's big ideas for change in baseball was the winner of the All Star Game gets home field in the playoffs. This guy is no Judge Landis, he's not even Judge Reinhold. He's not even Judge Reinhold when he was playing himself on Arrested Development. Selig saying he was gonna punish A-Rod for this is akin to Robin Ventura saying that he could have taken Nolan Ryan, he just felt bad for the old coot. Nobody even comes close to believing that bullshit. Am I the only one who perceives a difference between tough penalties for J.C. Romero, and the now decade-long maypole dance that Selig, Fehr and Orza have been doing around the bulbous head of Barry Bonds?

And now this morning, no doubt to the relief of A-Rod, the reluctant but fair commissioner has decreed that he shall show mercy to the once golden-boy. I guess the loss of his status as baseball's chosen one is punishment enough? Selig would have us to believe that he chose to cease punishing Rodriguez once his status as the Icarus of MLB was cemented. Like he had some other heavy-handed recourse in mind, but opted to go with mercy. Obviusly Selig never heeded the words of Geddy Lee, becasue in choosing not to decide, Selig has consistently mistaken this for making a choice (RUSH-Free Will-Neil Peart is a f-ing GOD).

I guess it makes sense. I mean I know I could not live with myself if I knew that I had squandered the chance to restore the integrity of today's sullied game back to what it was in the glory days of the Black Sox, segregation, the rampant alcoholism of Whitey and the Mick, Fidrych pitching whilst trippin his balls off, the spitball, the vaseline ball, the nail-filed ball, or the cocaine addled days of Doc and the Straw? Let's not forget the union letting J.R. Richard die a homeless addict living under a bridge, Pete Rose, John Rocker, and those original Diamondback's uniforms.

Selig is never slow to remind anyone who will listen that he inherited this problem. Steroids were in baseball before his tenure as commisioner began, and their influence will no doubt out live most of us who call ourselves fans today. In no way does that exonerate Selig of any guilt for his consistent inaction. Gambling existed pre-1919, but Landis never cried that it was not his fault that the Sox fixed the series. I cannot help but view the detached and self servicing brand of "leadership" that the heads of baseball have provided in these times as being the true legacy of steroids in baseball, because just like in that diner, everybody is now just trying to protect their own asses at any and all costs.

Have You Guys Heard About the Rift Between Bloggers and the Media?

Yeah, big-time. They are, like, totally pissed at each other.

Anyway, I don't plan to drone on about this forever, because, if I do, I will sound like a self-righteous douche who's really proud of himself for pursuing a master's in journalism. Trust me, it's ten times easier than Centre. I'd rather be a self-righteous douche who's proud of his Centre degree. Or something.

OK, I'm not recounting the Will Leitch incident with Buzz Bissinger, suffice to say, though, that some mainstream media guys don't get blogs/bloggers. Bissinger, literally, couldn't distinguish between a blog post author and the commenters. If you haven't seen it, watch the video. It's almost kind of sad. Leitch played it perfectly, though, allowing Bissinger to shout himself out and look like a complete psycho.

Thursday, Chris Mottram was featured on Scott Van Pelt's radio show. Van Pelt, as you may or may not know, has a bit of a history with Deadspin. To his credit, SVP was pretty cool about the ordeal. Regardless, he had Mottram, who blogs quite well here and here, on his show today to discuss blogs and pros blah blah blah (go here for the audio). It was pretty much the same old shit, except SVP played a clip from Mitch Albom, who was on the show prior to Mottram.

First, a word about Albom. He's certainly one of the cheesiest columnists in the country. He does decent work, though he did get himself in a little trouble for fudgin' a story. Still, he's a professional, and he deserves respect for his body of work in the journalism business.

Albom, on the show, discussed bloggers and their lack of schooling and experience. To him, bloggers are a batch of mean-spirited kids with laptops, essentially. His main point is, "hey, these guys didn't do shit to get here. I got my master's from Columbia. They're just any guy with an Internet connection." (I'm paraphrasing, but he mentioned Columbia for sure.) He also attempted to juxtapose blogging with being an ill-informed tax man. As in: 'you wouldn't let just any asshole do your taxes, would you?'

No, Mitch, I wouldn't. But, like everyone else who bitches about blogging, you miss the point. And, it's especially ironic coming from you, the same man who wrote quite possibly the shittiest novel ever. How would you have liked Pat Conroy shitting on your attempt at expressing yourself creatively? Bloggers don't exist to supplant mainstream journalists from their jobs, you nitwit. It's merely a different perspective on similar events. John Clay can't say, 'man, Gillispie's a fucking joke.' But I can. At risk of sounding melodramatic, it's people exercising their right to speak freely.

Through it all, people that like blogs will read blogs, and people that like shitty columns will read the newspaper. Isn't that proof of a thriving democracy? I can't understand the disdain by mainstreamers; is it completely rooted in jealousy? Or is it folks like Mitch Albom that take themselves entirely too seriously? You write about sports; we're all watching the same games, fella.

You're right, though, Mitch, any asshole can have a blog. Hell, look at what you're reading. However, people read Deadspin. Why should A.J. Daulerio and Rick Chandler do anything differently? They have their own audience. You don't have to like it, Mitch, just stay out of the fucking way.

Thursday, February 12, 2009

'Fuck This Place, I'm Cold as Shit'

"Nah, Lumpy. The snow belt's at Seymour, not Evansville. I told you to bring extra socks!"

time slips away, leave's you with nothing mister but boring stories of...

A wise man once said earlier today on this blog;

Obviously a subtle jab at the rest of the HOF coaches, who, after inducted, sit naked in a small room and list their achievements...

So, here I am...naked, small room, reviewing my achievements...all that's missing is the hall-of- fame credentials, but as I paraphrase Meatloaf, three out of four ain't bad...

1. Led the 1995 Kentucky High School State Champion football team in onsides kicks recovered. Actually, I'm not sure that was recorded as an actual stat in Ky high school football, then, now or ever. Anyway, I had two of them in one season. Wait, do post-season stats count? If so, then i led the team with two. If not, well then i guess you could say that I led the team in regular and post season onsides kicks recovered, with one (each).

2. Was allegedly the first player selected in Germantown Baseball 15 year old free agent draft in the year 1993. Believe it or not, there is no way to Google these results. So again all I am left to go on is the word of a meth-mouthed "coach" who told the entire team on the first day of practice that we would win a lot of games because we had had the first pick in the draft, and with that pick he selected me. Most of the details of that season have been subsuquently supressed by my subconscious. Legend has it that I made a vow to not wash my uniform that season until we had a win under our belts. To this day I blame my persistent case of crabs on that baseball uniform.

3. Beat Mike Tyson. I did this the hard way. That is to say I did this on Mike Tyson's Punch-Out. No code. From Glass Joe, through Mr Sandman, Super Macho Man, all the way to Kid Dynamite. This was post ear-biting, but pre -facial tattoo. After Buster Douglas, but before Klitschko, or Tommy Morrison, or God, who the Hell even cares.

4. Was the only five year starter in the HISTORY of my fraternity's softball team. And that's big because LOTS of those guys need to squeeze four years into five. So it's kinda like not only being a dumb jock, but a jock among dumb jocks. Ya know what they say, when in Rome, the one-eyed man is the king of the bears that shit in the Pope's hat. Go on an' marinate on that for a minute.

5. The 2007 Kings Among Men season/post season. Magical. Beyond words. Transcendant. It goes without saying on one level, because despite all the tongue in cheekiness of this, the fact still remains that ANYBODY who even has any chance of reading this whatsoever was there.

6. Once I beat a kid in NCAA Football 07 on Xbox Live. I think he was like seven. Or maybe it was a chick. Anyway, the game was close for a while, but then he/she got bored and laid the controller down, and man after that...the rout was on.

7. I was there the day that a kicked ball in kickball actually traversed through the net of a distant basketball goal. The ultimate playground urban legend (that includes YOU Earl Monroe). I am lucky enough to say that I still call that titan of a kickballer one of my very closest friends and he remains an inspiration to me as the years go on. I salute you my friend, for bringing meaning to our otherwise dreary lives that grey-grade school day so long ago!

I'm sure that Bick will be on here in minutes, drudging up the legitimacy of my tennis ball baseball career home run record, arguing that a nine year old could have hit homers over the short right field porch. Which works out well, because once nine-year-olds started to play with us, they proved that they could...oppo. The point is, don't hate the player. It never was my fault that i had so much dong as such a young man. If the powers that be wanted to use me as their meal ticket to put butts in the seats at out t.b.b.b. games, who was I to question why? I was a victim in all this. Anyway, all sadness aside. Don't cry for ME, Argentina. The point is, we here at Rantastic are putting our best foot (feet?) forward and turning our faces to the rising sun of a new day. Just like Mark McGwire, once a hero, then villified for our prodigiuos power. Now who wants to see me crack a few dingers?

Gillispie's Stupid Philosophy, and How It Won the Game For Us

Well, I guess that title is wholly hyperbolic. I don't think Gillispie's toughness mantra is completely stupid, and toughness wasn't the sole reason we won last night. Still, the blind reliance upon "out-toughing" guys is idiotic.

For instance, Ramon Harris can be as tough as, say, Grrrrreg Paulus (now with extra grr!). It doesn't matter, because he looks like a person surprised by an over-inflated basketball when he dribbles. It never cleanly meets his hand. And to label him a defensive stopper is an insult to Craig Ehlo. Point being, he and Porter can be tough as calculus, they still can't compete with guys like Calathes. Hell, did you seen Greggie try to man up Ty Lawson Wednesday?

As I've mentioned previously in this space, Jay Bilas described what it meant to be a "tough" basketball player in a recent Insider column. Unwittingly or not, he simply described a good, smart player. Like, say, a Nick Calathes or Jodie Meeks. Basically, there's a stark difference between being Allen Iverson "tough" or Jordan "tough" or Kobe "tough" and being Paulus "tough." To be sure, I have zero qualms about continuously using Paulus as my example of a not-tough player.

Despite all my bitching about the absolute vacancy inherent to the terminology, I grant that toughness may have won us the game last night. Conversely, toughness may have had a hand in losing it for Florida, as well. Down the stretch, Parsons and Calathes really choked at the line. There's no other way of saying it. They choked. The new blogger at KSR made a great point (though I don't know if his post is live yet or not, still, I'll share with some of my own embellishments): Dykes talked incessantly about all the "adversity" Calathes has been through. Like, playing for a HS powerhouse or starting every game in your career at UF or having your career in the NBA laid out before you. Sounds like a dream life to me. Point being, as hard as Calathes has probably worked to get where he is, I doubt he's encountered any real "adversity." Until last night, when he stepped to the line with a chance to tie the game in a loud-ass gym full of rednecks, and choked. The point Hunter makes is, yeah, he fought through all this "adversity," until he ran into some actual adversity.

My point is buried somewhere within that paragraph, but you may need a fucking bulldozer to unearth it. Basically, as I sit here and watch Greggie P. and listen Vitale and Patrick verbally fellate him for his hustle, I think of a player like Meeks. Guys can look hardcore with their skinned knees, constant screams urging "let's go!," and dives into the crowd when the ball bounced out of bounds a full second prior to the leap, but are they tough?

Tuesday night, with the game and season on the line, everyone in the Arena knew that UK's only shot to win lay with Meeks. We were down 6, and Patterson was on the bench injured. He hits a three, then drops in a hanger from the elbow, and, as Bick said, willed in a 25 footer that was tipped out of his hands (or so says Calathes) on the way up. I'm not saying a guy like Calathes can't make that play, because he can. I am saying, though, that even with all the shit we've been through with Gillispie, this toughness racket may not be so bad after all. Because, against Florida, Meeks showed that even if he wasn't playing on the same level with Calathes for most of the night, he wasn't going to lose that fucking game.

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

Mea Culpas (That Means "Sorry")

So, last night was emotional for just about everyone, and I feel like I have to "unload my wagon," as Sheriff Bell says in No Country for Old Men, so here goes:

To Jodie: I said you had no heart. What the fuck was I thinking? Everyone in America knew you were taking that shot, and Calathes played picture-perfect defense, and you still willed the ball in. Not to mention the fact that you never ever showboat or draw attention to yourself. Rare.

To Pat Pat: I made a blog post about you and completely jinxed you. Watching you lie on the floor writhing and screaming in pain is what I assume it would feel like watching one of my kids get hurt doing something. I don't know, don't have any.

To T-Dubs: I wish I owned a pair of your blue shades where we are always on the verge of 15-0 runs and 80-yard TD drives. But, alas, I am not the optimist that you are, and I bailed on our boys immediately after Patterson went down. That was foolish, and I was wrong. Still, if Patterson misses any time, we will feel it.

To Perry: I'm sorry, but I hate looking at your dopey face. I can't help it. I wish I liked you, but I never will. Still, you were serviceable and didn't screw up too much. But, you deserved to get stepped on after that retarded foul on Parsons shooting a three.

To Miss Edwards: I hate having to apologize for our retarded coach, but do you guys remember third grade? If you had a crush on a girl, you would constantly make fun of her, throw shit at her during lunch, and just be an all-around pain in the ass because you had no other way of making yourself relevant in her life. That's about my only theory here. Billy is a third-grader. And he looked like shit in that interview. Christ, get him into make-up.

To Jimmy Dykes: I'm sorry that I ever thought you were a good color man. The UT game had us all fooled. We were displacing some of the joy of that game onto you. You are truly terrible. When you said that it didn't matter if the Hodge incident was intentional or not is where you lost me. How the fuck is it about anything other than intent? And, your buzzwords and phrases are annoying. There's no such thing as a "good" turnover.

To Ramon Harris: I'm sorry that you play. That lay-up you attempted that hit the top of the backboard was beyond explanation.

To Michael Porter: I'm sorry that people boo you. You stepped up big time, fella. Somehow, Porter doesn't get Tommy's blanket optimism like the rest.

To Harrellson: I'm sorry our defense is designed around you covering Calathes 40 feet from the basket. You put forth a yeoman's effort.

To Galloway: I'm sorry our coach is an idiot and you haven't taken every single one of Harris' minutes this season.

To Train: I'm sorry, but I whole-heartedly disagree with your Meeks / Sosa analogy. When Meeks took the three, every UK fan thought, "Thank God." When Sosa shot, every UL fan thought, "Shit."

And some unrelated to UK b-ball:

To Seanemac: I'm sorry that my Ipod always has the artist you want and none of the songs that they are most known for. I am working hard on this, so that when you choose Bruce Hornsby, "The Way It Is" will be an option.

To Dean Wormer: On a related note, I'm sorry for calling you frequently, saying, "What's the one Beastie Boys song that starts, "This is the first song off our new album..." or "What's that Clapton song with the guitar solo?" You are the guru.

To Higdon: I'm sorry about your favorite college football squadron. At least you got tailgating.

To Gene: I'm sorry that all your truly funny, insightful posts are relegated to this blog, where only ten people read them.

Well, that's about everybody that reads this. If I missed anybody, tell me what grinds your gears, and I'll hit you up with some sort of condolences.

Oh yeah, to Calathes, I'm sorry the ref called that terrible foul with .6 seconds left that forced you to become the goat for your pathetic team. You deserved better.

You Said It, Dick

The scene: 16 minutes left, first half of the UNC/Duke game. Scheyer had just attempted to take a charge (big surprise) against Deon Thompson. There was no call, and Dukies were sprawled everywhere. Hansbrough picked the ball up and Texas ping-ponged it through.

That ain't the story (though watching play stop to attend to a writhing, uninjured Scheyer was sickening). As ESPN cut for break, you could see K giving the refs the business, as per usual. When the telecast returned, they replayed K in the ref's ear, and they also showed Roy Williams barking at his team in the huddle.

Vitale (I'm paraphrasing): "Two super-competitive coaches, though their philosophies may differ."

That is to say, one teaches where one bitches. Vitale then went on to rave about K being a HOF-er because "he competes for the now, and doesn't care about past accomplishments."

Obviously a subtle jab at the rest of the HOF coaches, who, after inducted, sit naked in a small room and list their achievements.