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.

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.

'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.

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:

http://deadspin.com/5431432/favre-is-like-a-kid-arguing-with-his-parents-at-toys+r+us-out-there

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.

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 clan...it 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 Bowl...at 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 why...save that shit story for your Charlie Brown friends, you blanket sucking, Linus-ass pantyliners.

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.

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.)

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
"B.O.B."
[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

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 it...so 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.

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 anything...it'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 guy...my 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.

Manny: 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.

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.

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.

Original.

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?

...to love and to cherish, because that means drinking from the same giant cauldron of hallucinogenic blue liquid...

Absinthe?

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.



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.

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.