The News (with Links)
As if T.O. didn't already have enough on his plate (or bowl), he's following the Doug Flutie's Buffalo Tradition with T.O's Breakfast Cereal. Right.
No more Wang. As if things couldn't be better right now for the Fucking Yankees, Chien-Ming Wang, he of the 1-6, 9.64 era, 2.02 whip is done for the year.
That Met's executive who took his shirt off and challenged Mets prospects to engage in fisticuffs? Yeah, he's unemployed now.
Some Red Sox players used steroids.
Alberto Contador won the Tour De France and teammate Lance Armstrong finished third. Contador responded by making fun of Lance. Lance responded by making fun of Contador. You see where this is going. Then, Lance ripped the streamers off Contador's bike and then Contador kicked Lance in the shin and called his mommy.
Fun week for the Family Brees. Although Mom and Son haven't gotten along in years, this week Momma Brees, Esquire decided to supply thousands of Fantasy Football Leagues with a solid team name "Chicksports Inc." while committing extortion and Drew himself toured Gitmo and enjoyed it. What?
The Links (with Links)
The 6 Most Badass Murder Weapons in the Animal Kingdom.
The 10 Worst Injury Excuses.
Random YouTube (and other) Video's of the Week
Marbury Eats Vaseline
More to come on this next week.
Shatner Reads Palin Tweets on Conan
Is there anything he can't do?
Reh Dogg "Why I Might Cry"
Your Culture of the Week, Courtesy of my buddy Stern who has an abnormally large head and they don't sell his hat size in stores.
A-Spray Commercial Ummmm...
A-Spray Commercial
Let's Get Sexy with Craig Robinson
Some of you might know him as Daryl from The Office, spits out solid bedroom advice.
Your YouTube Hall of Fame Nominee
Boom Goes the Dynamite
Classic.
Friday, July 31, 2009
The Bekavac Files: A Three Part Manifesto on Sports and Society (Part Three)
“When Namath walked onto the field for your team, it just ‘tilted’ in your
favor.” – Al Davis
In a playoff at Torrey Pines near San Diego in the 2008 U.S. Open, Tiger Woods needed to sink a long birdie putt to force a playoff between he and Greensburg’s own Rocco Mediate. He made it, and went on to win the playoff.
But, didn’t you just kind of feel it was going in?
Or, how sick does it make you if your team is playing the Patriots, and your team is up by two – kicking off –with 1:51 to play?
Or, if Bryon Russell was 7’6’’ with windmill arms and the quickest hops known to man, would he be able to block that shot?
Greatness makes these feelings and questions happen in a fan. It is knowing, but not knowing. It is premonition with no vision. It is a tilting of the field. It’s the intangible.
To be truly “great,” you must make the improbable probable. This is more than Bob Costas saying this at a montage during the Olympics. You have to take the core of sports, this chance that anything can happen, and make it happen only one way. It’s clutch, it’s the zone, it’s ice water in the veins. It’s talent and luck.
It’s greatness.
Greatness is the imposition of will over the random chaos of possible outcomes of a sporting event. Moreover, it is that imposition over many sporting events. Jordan, Woods, Federer, Brady, Montana, Bird, Magic, Mays, and Ruth all had it. This is not to say that others who never had that one moment of “he’s going to do this” weren’t great. Hank Aaron was great because he did everything at a high level for a very long time. And, it isn’t saying that those who had that one moment – Maz or Lorenzo Charles – were. I’m just saying that greatness is this one thing, in sports. That athletes that make a fan feel that they are sure that the outcome will happen in a certain way are great.
Or, like Delton Hall, you know that he will get burnt for a 40 yard bomb by Al Toon and then get flagged for 15 yards for a late hit, personal foul facemask out of bounds. First and goal at the 6.
Go Steelers.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
The Bekavac Files: A Three Part Manifesto on Sports and Society (Part Two)
(Editors Note: Part Two in the Bekavac Series. Part One here)
“Baseball’s been a favorite sport of mine ever since a friend of mine, Arnold Rothstein, fixed the 1919 World Series.” – Hyman Roth
Boxing died, and Mixed Martial Arts began the night of March 13, 1999. I was a senior in high school, and a bunch of friends and I went in on the pay-per-view of the first bout between Lennox Lewis and Evander Holyfield. Despite clearly winning, the fight was ruled a draw and Holyfield retained the title. All of us went off of our heads, immediately suspecting the fight had been fixed. The media zeroed in on judge Eugenia Williams, which was so clearly off the mark with her scoring that it raised eyebrows and prompted investigations and even a statistical analysis of subjective scoring anomalies by Carnegie Mellon University.
Whether or not the fight was fixed wasn’t important. What was important was that the air around the fight smelled fixed. Boxing lost credibility. Mixed Martial Arts filled the void our society needs for gladiatorial bloodshed. If the fight was fixed, then the chance for chance was gone by the ringing of the Round One bell. It became pro wrestling. Scripted, predetermined, and set. Boxing was dead.
That loss of chance is the loss of the very core of sports. When that core begins to be questioned, a death pallor drops over the sport. Pete Rose’s gambling cast doubts. What Bart Giamante did was to excise him like a tumor from the game. It wasn’t that what he did was unseemly or unlike what most Americans do on sporting events, it was that he undermined the idea that we have that the game is being played out impromptu. It was convienient for Mr. Giamante that Rose’s gambling was against the laws of the game.
Jose Canseco’s Juiced and the Mitchell Report casts doubts. Some in the American public wanted Rafael Palmeiro’s and Mark McGuire’s and Barry Bonds’s heads. Mr. Riley, and many highly intelligent legalistas, will say that this is an unfair reaction, and comparing it to Rose is unfounded because what Rose did was against the rules of baseball. When these players were juicing, it wasn’t against the rules. Hold on Riley; what they were doing was altering the randomness of the home run. God-given talent, weight room time, and hand eye coordination all factor in. But there is an idea that the genetics, capacity and drive to work and drive to work and psychosomatic development is something that all humans have access to. When there is a magic potion that only some have access to, it alters the playing field. It tilts it. It makes things more likely, rather than by chance. The removal of the chance is the ruin of a sport.
However, there are some athletes that can, by their own talents or work ethic, tilt the field all the same. And that’s what makes them great.
Part II – Who Shaved the Dice?
“Baseball’s been a favorite sport of mine ever since a friend of mine, Arnold Rothstein, fixed the 1919 World Series.” – Hyman Roth
Boxing died, and Mixed Martial Arts began the night of March 13, 1999. I was a senior in high school, and a bunch of friends and I went in on the pay-per-view of the first bout between Lennox Lewis and Evander Holyfield. Despite clearly winning, the fight was ruled a draw and Holyfield retained the title. All of us went off of our heads, immediately suspecting the fight had been fixed. The media zeroed in on judge Eugenia Williams, which was so clearly off the mark with her scoring that it raised eyebrows and prompted investigations and even a statistical analysis of subjective scoring anomalies by Carnegie Mellon University.
Whether or not the fight was fixed wasn’t important. What was important was that the air around the fight smelled fixed. Boxing lost credibility. Mixed Martial Arts filled the void our society needs for gladiatorial bloodshed. If the fight was fixed, then the chance for chance was gone by the ringing of the Round One bell. It became pro wrestling. Scripted, predetermined, and set. Boxing was dead.
That loss of chance is the loss of the very core of sports. When that core begins to be questioned, a death pallor drops over the sport. Pete Rose’s gambling cast doubts. What Bart Giamante did was to excise him like a tumor from the game. It wasn’t that what he did was unseemly or unlike what most Americans do on sporting events, it was that he undermined the idea that we have that the game is being played out impromptu. It was convienient for Mr. Giamante that Rose’s gambling was against the laws of the game.
Jose Canseco’s Juiced and the Mitchell Report casts doubts. Some in the American public wanted Rafael Palmeiro’s and Mark McGuire’s and Barry Bonds’s heads. Mr. Riley, and many highly intelligent legalistas, will say that this is an unfair reaction, and comparing it to Rose is unfounded because what Rose did was against the rules of baseball. When these players were juicing, it wasn’t against the rules. Hold on Riley; what they were doing was altering the randomness of the home run. God-given talent, weight room time, and hand eye coordination all factor in. But there is an idea that the genetics, capacity and drive to work and drive to work and psychosomatic development is something that all humans have access to. When there is a magic potion that only some have access to, it alters the playing field. It tilts it. It makes things more likely, rather than by chance. The removal of the chance is the ruin of a sport.
However, there are some athletes that can, by their own talents or work ethic, tilt the field all the same. And that’s what makes them great.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
We Really Don't Care About Favre, But We Enjoy This = Favrown3d
I vowed I would not write a single post on Brett Favre because I think it's easily the worst sports story of the last two years. I never really liked him. It was fun to see his train wreck on the Jets. I was a little excited to see him train wreck the Vikings. I'm excited for my buddy Isaacs, a diehard Vikes fan. Favre sucks. He's sucked for the last 8 years, minus the last fluky season in Green Bay. The Vikes now start a Jewish QB, which is always the right decision. Enough on Favre. But here's YouTube Sensation BradyFan83's wonderful musical take on Favre from 2007.
The Bekavac Files: A Three Part Manifesto on Sports and Society
(Editors Note: This is the first in a three part commentary by guest poster and Croation Sensation, Bekavac, the avid golfer, and hopefully frequent contributor from last week. Part Two will run Wednesday, and Part Three will run on Thursday.)
As I get older, I realize that there are two parts of a newspaper that impact the majority of lives in this country: the obituaries and the sports section. Much like Shakespeare and ballet did over time, spectator sports has moved up the cultural ladder thanks to the advent of even lower culture like reality TV and more reality TV that spinoffs from other reality TV. More and more, the Super Bowl or the British Open or the NBA Finals have become acceptable workplace banter, not only in the mills and factories and office parks, but also in the firms, laboratories, and faculty lounges of this country.
Also, women are becoming more and more analytical and critical and rounded in their rooting. Now, the causes of this range from the increased exposure of sports to the media outlets saturating the American public and the obvious increase in female participation of all sports, accelerated by Title IX. However, whatever the cause and/or affect of female involvement in sports, the involvement itself is a marker for the increased standing of sports as a cultural importance. As a pastime becomes accepted not by one subset or demographic or age group or sex, but by the whole society, it truly does become a cultural bellwether.
The question is why.
Part I – A Roll of the Dice
The unpredictability of the game is what makes it special. It injects the random into our lives that desperately need it. As children, we never knew what would happen in our day, but it always seemed to work out. The responsibilities were taken care of for us. Now, we must take care of them, and to do so we structure our day. The Blackberry beeps and tells us where to be at 12, 2, and 3. We come home, usually knowing when we left our house what was for dinner. We’ve even set our bodies to tell us the time to go to sleep.
When we watch a game, we have no inkling that Mark Buehrle will throw a perfect game. We just don’t. We can admit a chance in retrospect, but we don’t know. It’s the unknowable chance that makes us love sports.
As I get older, I realize that there are two parts of a newspaper that impact the majority of lives in this country: the obituaries and the sports section. Much like Shakespeare and ballet did over time, spectator sports has moved up the cultural ladder thanks to the advent of even lower culture like reality TV and more reality TV that spinoffs from other reality TV. More and more, the Super Bowl or the British Open or the NBA Finals have become acceptable workplace banter, not only in the mills and factories and office parks, but also in the firms, laboratories, and faculty lounges of this country.
Also, women are becoming more and more analytical and critical and rounded in their rooting. Now, the causes of this range from the increased exposure of sports to the media outlets saturating the American public and the obvious increase in female participation of all sports, accelerated by Title IX. However, whatever the cause and/or affect of female involvement in sports, the involvement itself is a marker for the increased standing of sports as a cultural importance. As a pastime becomes accepted not by one subset or demographic or age group or sex, but by the whole society, it truly does become a cultural bellwether.
The question is why.
Part I – A Roll of the Dice
“I don’t believe what I just saw”! - Jack Buck, responding to the KirkSports, thematically, reflect the stories and myths that our society is based on. David versus Goliath is reflected in Villanova versus Georgetown. Michael Jordan could fly like Superman. And who stands as a symbol of Machiavellian brutality and bullying more in our culture: Richard III or George Steinbrenner? However, in the Bible or comic books or the bard, the next step in the plot is always a few pages ahead. With sports, you never know after the first tee if Tom Watson will push the 30 somethings to the brink. You never know that David Tyree will make a catch off the crown of his head. From the drop of the puck to the final horn; from the kickoff to the final gun, from the tip till the buzzer: we never know. It’s an unfolding of the themes and lessons and stories.
Gibson home run, Game 1, 1984 World Series.
The unpredictability of the game is what makes it special. It injects the random into our lives that desperately need it. As children, we never knew what would happen in our day, but it always seemed to work out. The responsibilities were taken care of for us. Now, we must take care of them, and to do so we structure our day. The Blackberry beeps and tells us where to be at 12, 2, and 3. We come home, usually knowing when we left our house what was for dinner. We’ve even set our bodies to tell us the time to go to sleep.
When we watch a game, we have no inkling that Mark Buehrle will throw a perfect game. We just don’t. We can admit a chance in retrospect, but we don’t know. It’s the unknowable chance that makes us love sports.
Friday, July 24, 2009
The End of the Week Randomness Extravaganza!
The News (With Links)
Tim Tebow, virgin. Somewhere, Thom Brennaman is gushing.
Phil Mickelson in talks to purchase 105 Waffle House Restaurants. Yeah, that's a good idea. Waffle House sucks. IHOP is far superior. There I said it.
If you were in prison for over a year, and you just got out, and Allen Iverson asked you to go to a strip club with him would you say no? Yeah, me neither. Mike Vick didn't say no.
Mark Burly (his name is too difficult to try and spell) tossed the first perfect game since Randy Johnson tossed one with the D'backs and shared an awkward embrace with catcher Robbie Hammock. Great fucking catch by DeWayne Wise.
Former Bengal, and current Seahawk/professional bitch, T.J. Houshmanzadeh is boycotting Madden 2010 because he's only a 91 overall and there are six receivers in the NFC ranked higher. We don't have the list, but I'm sure I wouldn't take Housh over Fitzgerald, Steve Smith, Calvin Johnson, Anquan Boldin, Greg Jennings and Roddy White. Someone needs to tell him he's the only NFL receiver with more than 500 yards and less than 10 yards per catch average last year, and he had a 6 less TD catches than Lance Moore.
J.P. Losman was at Tulane at the same time The Monk was there and The Monk says he's a dick. After failing out of the NFL, J.P. is going to be throwing passes for the unnamed Las Vegas United Football League team. Good luck with all that J.P. If you're lucky, you might be able to throw bombs to Charles Rogers.
Jim Parque admitted he used steroids, and much like his playing career, nobody cares.
Should VP of Player Development call your own minor league players pussies and challenge them to a fight? If you're the Mets, of course! Meet the Mets, Meet the Mets, Come on Out and Greet the Mets!
A few Texas Rangers players have suffered from flu-like symptoms, and all of a sudden, Vicente Padilla gets diagnosed with... OKAY, EVERYBODY PANIC!!!
If you have Rick DiPietro under contract until 2021, have just signed Dwayne Rolosson and 56 year old Doug Weight is your only accomplished NHL forward, what do you do? Sign Martin Biron of course! Although Rick DiPietro is probably hurt again, so why not?
Random Linking Fun
How White Are You? (Go here, give yourself 1 point if you like, 2 if you really like, -1 if you dislike, -2 if you really dislike, and 0 if you are indifferent. I'm a 92, Mr. Riley is a 27)
Jason Kendall, Greatest of All Time?
Thanks Debbie, Don't Know the Point of This Game, Or Why I'm Playing, But I'm Addicted
The 13 Most Unintentionally Disturbing Children's Toys
Tom Emanski's Fake MySpace Page
Random YouTube (and other) Video's of the Week
White People Being White
In all honesty, I planned posting this yesterday morning before all the media caught hold of it. As my friend Debbie's non-white co-worker asked her "Is this what you white people do when we're not around". Yes.
Will Arnett Reads from Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret
Tony Romo: Product Spokesman
Katie Holmes on So You Think You Can Dance
Joey Potter was such a long, long, time ago.
The Answer to All Your Political Gripes
Only in America!
Genius Plan to Fix California Economy - Watch more Funny Videos
Grown Men With Baseball Gloves, A Mr. Riley Favorite
We Enjoyed This, But Still Hate the Phillies... .
Tim Tebow, virgin. Somewhere, Thom Brennaman is gushing.
Phil Mickelson in talks to purchase 105 Waffle House Restaurants. Yeah, that's a good idea. Waffle House sucks. IHOP is far superior. There I said it.
If you were in prison for over a year, and you just got out, and Allen Iverson asked you to go to a strip club with him would you say no? Yeah, me neither. Mike Vick didn't say no.
Mark Burly (his name is too difficult to try and spell) tossed the first perfect game since Randy Johnson tossed one with the D'backs and shared an awkward embrace with catcher Robbie Hammock. Great fucking catch by DeWayne Wise.
Former Bengal, and current Seahawk/professional bitch, T.J. Houshmanzadeh is boycotting Madden 2010 because he's only a 91 overall and there are six receivers in the NFC ranked higher. We don't have the list, but I'm sure I wouldn't take Housh over Fitzgerald, Steve Smith, Calvin Johnson, Anquan Boldin, Greg Jennings and Roddy White. Someone needs to tell him he's the only NFL receiver with more than 500 yards and less than 10 yards per catch average last year, and he had a 6 less TD catches than Lance Moore.
J.P. Losman was at Tulane at the same time The Monk was there and The Monk says he's a dick. After failing out of the NFL, J.P. is going to be throwing passes for the unnamed Las Vegas United Football League team. Good luck with all that J.P. If you're lucky, you might be able to throw bombs to Charles Rogers.
Jim Parque admitted he used steroids, and much like his playing career, nobody cares.
Should VP of Player Development call your own minor league players pussies and challenge them to a fight? If you're the Mets, of course! Meet the Mets, Meet the Mets, Come on Out and Greet the Mets!
A few Texas Rangers players have suffered from flu-like symptoms, and all of a sudden, Vicente Padilla gets diagnosed with... OKAY, EVERYBODY PANIC!!!
If you have Rick DiPietro under contract until 2021, have just signed Dwayne Rolosson and 56 year old Doug Weight is your only accomplished NHL forward, what do you do? Sign Martin Biron of course! Although Rick DiPietro is probably hurt again, so why not?
Random Linking Fun
How White Are You? (Go here, give yourself 1 point if you like, 2 if you really like, -1 if you dislike, -2 if you really dislike, and 0 if you are indifferent. I'm a 92, Mr. Riley is a 27)
Jason Kendall, Greatest of All Time?
Thanks Debbie, Don't Know the Point of This Game, Or Why I'm Playing, But I'm Addicted
The 13 Most Unintentionally Disturbing Children's Toys
Tom Emanski's Fake MySpace Page
Random YouTube (and other) Video's of the Week
White People Being White
In all honesty, I planned posting this yesterday morning before all the media caught hold of it. As my friend Debbie's non-white co-worker asked her "Is this what you white people do when we're not around". Yes.
Will Arnett Reads from Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret
Tony Romo: Product Spokesman
Katie Holmes on So You Think You Can Dance
Joey Potter was such a long, long, time ago.
The Answer to All Your Political Gripes
Only in America!
Genius Plan to Fix California Economy - Watch more Funny Videos
Grown Men With Baseball Gloves, A Mr. Riley Favorite
We Enjoyed This, But Still Hate the Phillies... .
YOUR YOUTUBE HALL OF FAME NOMINEE OF THE WEEK
Lady Punch
Gentlemen Only, Ladies Forbidden. (Special to Operation Shutdown)
(Editors Note: This post was written by our very good friend Bekavac, aka "The Bek", aka "The Sultan". The Bek went to Princeton, so he's prone to douchebaggery and wordiness. Against better judgment, we've decided to run this post in it's entirety. Do yourself, print it out and read it on the toilet.)
I used to think that golf was a game and not a sport. But then I found out that after 18, with 10 Yuenglings and a few rips from a cigarette shaped one-hitter, I'm exhausted. Also, the whole hitting it dead straight 300 yards, rather difficult.
I’ve noticed a surprising lack of golf coverage. Surprising in that a Jew from Miami and a Black Irishman from Danbury, Connecticut don’t golf. (That’s Black Irish in that he’s Protestant, not black Irish like Kevin McDougal, quarterback for the ’93 Fightin’ Irish. May Glenn Foley rot in hell.) Therefore, I, as a person who’s golfed for roughly 9 months, feel that in my third trimester with the game I am qualified to give you all a thorough undertaking of this sport, along with musings on other matters athletico. However, as golf is a man’s chance to accessorize, I have sunk a lot of money into this fucking game, and I’ll be goddamned if I let that go to waste.
I will start by giving course reviews. As I, like the failed fledgling that I am that cannot leave the nest, travel within a 20 mile radius to the courses I play. I plan, however, to work out in concentric circles to more and more courses. Fuck, I just took my first golf trip to Ocean City, Maryland. Ocean City – and this is something Ruben and Riley can never understand – is the summer hotspot for Western Pennsylvania. There are endless arguments over which is the faster route – D.C. or Baltimore. There are the Big Pecker and Dough Roller T Shirts. There’s the Dumsers Shakes and Embers v. Bonfire Crab Legs debates. There’s the photo keychains. What I also found out is that there’s some excellent golf courses as well. But, I will hold off on those until a later date. As a quick regression, I called Stewart Cink. He’s a solid, top 50 golfer who has been under par in all the majors this year. Oh, and I guess I should give big ups to my ninja Tom Watson for making it such a memorable The Open Championship. The best bad weather player in golf history, Rick Reilly kept saying. EXCEPT FOR THE FACT THAT THE WEATHER WAS PRETTY GOOD, YOU DOUCHENOZZLE. But, somewhere between the shots of Patron and the Bud Light Aluminum bottle No. 7 at Seacrets in Ocean City, I called Stewart Cink. Then I asked a girl to ice down her titties and place them over my face like a wet towel.
First course on the tour: Butler’s Golf Course. Woodside course.
I will do one 18 a week. Butler’s has two 18s. I will not do more because I will be giving you an in-depth look at these courses. Also, I don’t feel like doing more than one 18 at a time.
Ah, the home course. On Thursday nights, me and 20 or so gentlemen twice my age, golf in a league called Odds and Ends. We intrepid group of funeral directors, plaster men, accountants, county police officers, and retirees, duff our way around these 36 holes of “championship” golf in Elizabeth Township. This is the ultimate public. The key words are “trees” and “moist.” Everything is always wet. Also, the putts that look like they should break 5 feet, break 5 inches. And the dead center cut ones break like you’re putting on the roof of a 2003 Saturn coupe. But, like all ultimate publics, you get your 38 bucks worth.
It’s broken into two eighteens: Woodside and Lakeside. Woodside is the old course. It starts with a 480 yard par five that should be a par four. Downhill, and crushable like a Parliament. Only hazard worth mentioning is a bunker on the front of the green. Even light hitters like myself are on in two. It’s followed by an uphill, 150 straightforward par 3, guarded by two bunkers. You will end up in one of these bunkers. You will do this because, you will go to the driving range and hit to a slightly downhill 150 yard marker with your 8 iron. You will think “I can hit my 8 iron 150 yards.” You will then take out your 8 iron and fried egg it into the bunker. You will do this because you are me.
Holes 3, 4, and 5 will be grouped together because I score a 5 on all four of these par 4s. Here’s what they are. Shortish, 370 yards or so, with hill sloping down on the left, narrow fairway, and woods OB to the right. Aim left to avoid the woods. 56 wedge it to the front of the green because you can NEVER HIT THAT FUCKING CLUB RIGHT. 3 putt. 5s around. Drink a High Life Light. Move onto 6.
Hole 6 is an uphill par 4. Like most uphill holes, this one licks taint. Plug your drive into the aforementioned moistness of the fairway. Dig out your ball and towel it off, motherfucking it all. Then, after learning your lesson about your 8 iron on hole 2, take out your seven iron. Blade the shit out of that sonuvabitch and fly the green into the back left bunker. Blast out onto the fringe two feet in front of you. Two putt, or three putt, and move onto the glorious #7.
Ah, Number 7 Woodside at Butlers. If there is ever an emergency landing needed for the space shuttle, it can be done on this massive 580 yard, wide-ass-open par 5. The weird thing is, the drive is going into a crevice 240 yards in the fairway. OB is right for us slicers; a small pond is left for you major hookers. All in all, as long as you see your ball, it’s ok. Because 300 yard fore, and 300 yards wide awaits you for every conceivable draw or fade you could put on a golf ball. It’s all in play, and everything’s safe. Green is very slanted though. Very scoreable though, even for me.
Hole 8 is the toughest on Woodside; the highest handicap on the course. A 440 yard, blind double dogleg up and down and back up. Actually a tough hole to get on the green accurately in two. If you’re left, you’re blind to the green at 180. If you’re right, you have a clean look, at about 240 uphill. Good luck on that one Villegas. Bring your humility on that one.
Hole 9 is such an unremarkable 150 yard flat par 3, I refuse to give it ink. Actually, take out your 8 iron on this one. It’ll work. Fried egg into the bunker front left. Congrats. Buy a shitty hot dog. Make the turn.
Hole 10 is a straight as an arrow par 4 with an Amoeba shaped bunker in the landing zone right. If you are like me, and for all intensive purposes this article is assuming that you are, you will land in this bunker. Surprisingly easy to get out of with a six iron though, as the sand here is actually concrete mix which is, you guessed it, moist.
Hole 11 is a forgettable par 4 with one feature: a turf farm. What is a turf farm? Settle down spaz; a turf farm is an area on the grounds where a golf course grows sod grass for placement on other parts of the course. Golf courses need grass? Yes they do, Bocephus. But aren’t most turf farms somewhere in the back, near the maintenance shed? Yes, but not at Butler’s. Here, it’s right off the 11th fairway. If you land there, as I most definitely do, you are asked to take it off the turf farm: a virginal spot of fairway in the midst of woods. In the somber words of Gabriel Garcia Marquez: fuck that shit. Rip your 7 iron and take a divot the size of Ted Koppel’s hair out. Land on the green, par for the first time of the day, and spit in the eyes of the founders of this game.
Hole 12 gives me a chance to talk about my father. I love my dad. He and I work together, have missed probably a dozen Steeler games since I was 3, and golf a lot together. Hole 12 let me see something sons dream about: watching their father have a meltdown. Hole 12 is another uphill par 4. To the right and left of a wide fairway are trees. My dad, like his son, goes right. He lands in the trees. He, like Klaus Kinski in Fitzcarraldo, feels that if he exerts his will, his shot will not hit the 40 year old oak 20 feet in front of him. This takes him 6 strokes. On stroke seven, his perseverance pays off as he scalds a wormburner right to the right of the green. He drives up furiously in the cart as I hold back laughing. Jumps out, removes his putter, and smashes it into the ground. Ironic because he’s 40 yards from the green at this point. Putter head stays in the ground as the shaft goes flying. This elicits an MGM Lion like roar from him as he flings the shaft. Proceeds to take a 10 and walks to hole 13. Let’s do the same.
Hole 13 is billed on the Butler’s website as having a beautiful view of the Youghiogheny River. Pfft. You can barely see this creek. However, the kayaking is lovely. So is hole 13. A fun, downhill 130 yard par 3 with a massive bunker front left and a big, flat green. Butler’s loves front left bunkers. Right and long is a 8 foot depression off the green. You should par this hole, Corky.
Hole 14 is Hole 7’s little brother. A big, open downhill 550 yard par 5. Enjoy. And you get to use the club you “crush” at the driving range but “FAIL” on the course: the 3 wood. The 3 wood at the driving range makes you think “I should play this off the tee. I hit it as far as my driver without the slices and hooks.” The 3 wood on the course makes you think about bashing yourself in the head with it and carrying another putter.
Hole 15 is another fun, 150 yard par 3. 14 yards into a circle green with a horseshoe of pines behind it. It’s slightly downhill, and you will take out the 8 iron again. You have learned your lessons with the 8, and you are confident that you will green this one. You will hit the green, and roll off. You will put the 8 iron away.
Hole 16 is a long par four that is flat to a wide landing area, then gets tighter as it approaches the green uphill. It gives me a chance to talk about my favorite club: My Mizuno 3 Iron Hybrid CLK Fli-Hi with Extra Stiff Shaft. That’s right cunts, the same club Sean O’Hair (who) calls his favorite club in my requisite subscribed issue of Golf Digest. On this hole, I once put a ball through the drink display of a MOVING cart girl’s cart from 230 away. It was her damn fault.
Hole 17 and 18 are going to be wrapped up in unison for the following reasons: they are long par fours along the road back to the clubhouse, they look at the convent across the road and you can sometimes see nuns out for a stroll, and that they are nice easy holes to do as you are coming in from your terrible, 6 hour odyssey around this place.
All in all, Woodside is solid. Next time, I will do Lakeside. But, before I go, it’s time for me, Mark Schlereth, and Marcellus Wiley’s QUICK HITS!
The Pirates fire sale is acceptable. It can include Jack Wilson, but should not include Freddy Sanchez, if it can be helped. I would be happy if they would have received 5 maple bats, some GoGurt, and a $5 gift card at Hot Topic for Adam Laroche. Even if they received some AA fodder for him, that is acceptable. Plus, the SS looks like he can field and hit lightly. So, way to change direction boys.
My mom says, because she’s my mom and a total dear, that Ben reminds her of me. This is probably because we are both blonde haired and have enormous heads. She also accosted him by bear hugging him on the club level at the Pete during Pitt v. Miami (OH). However, mom, here’s another similarity you can count. Hooking up with girls with a history of treatment for mental illness.
Albert Pujols is the greatest first baseman of all time. Better than Gehrig.
Champagne for my real friends; real pain for my sham friends.
I used to think that golf was a game and not a sport. But then I found out that after 18, with 10 Yuenglings and a few rips from a cigarette shaped one-hitter, I'm exhausted. Also, the whole hitting it dead straight 300 yards, rather difficult.
I’ve noticed a surprising lack of golf coverage. Surprising in that a Jew from Miami and a Black Irishman from Danbury, Connecticut don’t golf. (That’s Black Irish in that he’s Protestant, not black Irish like Kevin McDougal, quarterback for the ’93 Fightin’ Irish. May Glenn Foley rot in hell.) Therefore, I, as a person who’s golfed for roughly 9 months, feel that in my third trimester with the game I am qualified to give you all a thorough undertaking of this sport, along with musings on other matters athletico. However, as golf is a man’s chance to accessorize, I have sunk a lot of money into this fucking game, and I’ll be goddamned if I let that go to waste.
I will start by giving course reviews. As I, like the failed fledgling that I am that cannot leave the nest, travel within a 20 mile radius to the courses I play. I plan, however, to work out in concentric circles to more and more courses. Fuck, I just took my first golf trip to Ocean City, Maryland. Ocean City – and this is something Ruben and Riley can never understand – is the summer hotspot for Western Pennsylvania. There are endless arguments over which is the faster route – D.C. or Baltimore. There are the Big Pecker and Dough Roller T Shirts. There’s the Dumsers Shakes and Embers v. Bonfire Crab Legs debates. There’s the photo keychains. What I also found out is that there’s some excellent golf courses as well. But, I will hold off on those until a later date. As a quick regression, I called Stewart Cink. He’s a solid, top 50 golfer who has been under par in all the majors this year. Oh, and I guess I should give big ups to my ninja Tom Watson for making it such a memorable The Open Championship. The best bad weather player in golf history, Rick Reilly kept saying. EXCEPT FOR THE FACT THAT THE WEATHER WAS PRETTY GOOD, YOU DOUCHENOZZLE. But, somewhere between the shots of Patron and the Bud Light Aluminum bottle No. 7 at Seacrets in Ocean City, I called Stewart Cink. Then I asked a girl to ice down her titties and place them over my face like a wet towel.
First course on the tour: Butler’s Golf Course. Woodside course.
I will do one 18 a week. Butler’s has two 18s. I will not do more because I will be giving you an in-depth look at these courses. Also, I don’t feel like doing more than one 18 at a time.
Ah, the home course. On Thursday nights, me and 20 or so gentlemen twice my age, golf in a league called Odds and Ends. We intrepid group of funeral directors, plaster men, accountants, county police officers, and retirees, duff our way around these 36 holes of “championship” golf in Elizabeth Township. This is the ultimate public. The key words are “trees” and “moist.” Everything is always wet. Also, the putts that look like they should break 5 feet, break 5 inches. And the dead center cut ones break like you’re putting on the roof of a 2003 Saturn coupe. But, like all ultimate publics, you get your 38 bucks worth.
It’s broken into two eighteens: Woodside and Lakeside. Woodside is the old course. It starts with a 480 yard par five that should be a par four. Downhill, and crushable like a Parliament. Only hazard worth mentioning is a bunker on the front of the green. Even light hitters like myself are on in two. It’s followed by an uphill, 150 straightforward par 3, guarded by two bunkers. You will end up in one of these bunkers. You will do this because, you will go to the driving range and hit to a slightly downhill 150 yard marker with your 8 iron. You will think “I can hit my 8 iron 150 yards.” You will then take out your 8 iron and fried egg it into the bunker. You will do this because you are me.
Holes 3, 4, and 5 will be grouped together because I score a 5 on all four of these par 4s. Here’s what they are. Shortish, 370 yards or so, with hill sloping down on the left, narrow fairway, and woods OB to the right. Aim left to avoid the woods. 56 wedge it to the front of the green because you can NEVER HIT THAT FUCKING CLUB RIGHT. 3 putt. 5s around. Drink a High Life Light. Move onto 6.
Hole 6 is an uphill par 4. Like most uphill holes, this one licks taint. Plug your drive into the aforementioned moistness of the fairway. Dig out your ball and towel it off, motherfucking it all. Then, after learning your lesson about your 8 iron on hole 2, take out your seven iron. Blade the shit out of that sonuvabitch and fly the green into the back left bunker. Blast out onto the fringe two feet in front of you. Two putt, or three putt, and move onto the glorious #7.
Ah, Number 7 Woodside at Butlers. If there is ever an emergency landing needed for the space shuttle, it can be done on this massive 580 yard, wide-ass-open par 5. The weird thing is, the drive is going into a crevice 240 yards in the fairway. OB is right for us slicers; a small pond is left for you major hookers. All in all, as long as you see your ball, it’s ok. Because 300 yard fore, and 300 yards wide awaits you for every conceivable draw or fade you could put on a golf ball. It’s all in play, and everything’s safe. Green is very slanted though. Very scoreable though, even for me.
Hole 8 is the toughest on Woodside; the highest handicap on the course. A 440 yard, blind double dogleg up and down and back up. Actually a tough hole to get on the green accurately in two. If you’re left, you’re blind to the green at 180. If you’re right, you have a clean look, at about 240 uphill. Good luck on that one Villegas. Bring your humility on that one.
Hole 9 is such an unremarkable 150 yard flat par 3, I refuse to give it ink. Actually, take out your 8 iron on this one. It’ll work. Fried egg into the bunker front left. Congrats. Buy a shitty hot dog. Make the turn.
Hole 10 is a straight as an arrow par 4 with an Amoeba shaped bunker in the landing zone right. If you are like me, and for all intensive purposes this article is assuming that you are, you will land in this bunker. Surprisingly easy to get out of with a six iron though, as the sand here is actually concrete mix which is, you guessed it, moist.
Hole 11 is a forgettable par 4 with one feature: a turf farm. What is a turf farm? Settle down spaz; a turf farm is an area on the grounds where a golf course grows sod grass for placement on other parts of the course. Golf courses need grass? Yes they do, Bocephus. But aren’t most turf farms somewhere in the back, near the maintenance shed? Yes, but not at Butler’s. Here, it’s right off the 11th fairway. If you land there, as I most definitely do, you are asked to take it off the turf farm: a virginal spot of fairway in the midst of woods. In the somber words of Gabriel Garcia Marquez: fuck that shit. Rip your 7 iron and take a divot the size of Ted Koppel’s hair out. Land on the green, par for the first time of the day, and spit in the eyes of the founders of this game.
Hole 12 gives me a chance to talk about my father. I love my dad. He and I work together, have missed probably a dozen Steeler games since I was 3, and golf a lot together. Hole 12 let me see something sons dream about: watching their father have a meltdown. Hole 12 is another uphill par 4. To the right and left of a wide fairway are trees. My dad, like his son, goes right. He lands in the trees. He, like Klaus Kinski in Fitzcarraldo, feels that if he exerts his will, his shot will not hit the 40 year old oak 20 feet in front of him. This takes him 6 strokes. On stroke seven, his perseverance pays off as he scalds a wormburner right to the right of the green. He drives up furiously in the cart as I hold back laughing. Jumps out, removes his putter, and smashes it into the ground. Ironic because he’s 40 yards from the green at this point. Putter head stays in the ground as the shaft goes flying. This elicits an MGM Lion like roar from him as he flings the shaft. Proceeds to take a 10 and walks to hole 13. Let’s do the same.
Hole 13 is billed on the Butler’s website as having a beautiful view of the Youghiogheny River. Pfft. You can barely see this creek. However, the kayaking is lovely. So is hole 13. A fun, downhill 130 yard par 3 with a massive bunker front left and a big, flat green. Butler’s loves front left bunkers. Right and long is a 8 foot depression off the green. You should par this hole, Corky.
Hole 14 is Hole 7’s little brother. A big, open downhill 550 yard par 5. Enjoy. And you get to use the club you “crush” at the driving range but “FAIL” on the course: the 3 wood. The 3 wood at the driving range makes you think “I should play this off the tee. I hit it as far as my driver without the slices and hooks.” The 3 wood on the course makes you think about bashing yourself in the head with it and carrying another putter.
Hole 15 is another fun, 150 yard par 3. 14 yards into a circle green with a horseshoe of pines behind it. It’s slightly downhill, and you will take out the 8 iron again. You have learned your lessons with the 8, and you are confident that you will green this one. You will hit the green, and roll off. You will put the 8 iron away.
Hole 16 is a long par four that is flat to a wide landing area, then gets tighter as it approaches the green uphill. It gives me a chance to talk about my favorite club: My Mizuno 3 Iron Hybrid CLK Fli-Hi with Extra Stiff Shaft. That’s right cunts, the same club Sean O’Hair (who) calls his favorite club in my requisite subscribed issue of Golf Digest. On this hole, I once put a ball through the drink display of a MOVING cart girl’s cart from 230 away. It was her damn fault.
Hole 17 and 18 are going to be wrapped up in unison for the following reasons: they are long par fours along the road back to the clubhouse, they look at the convent across the road and you can sometimes see nuns out for a stroll, and that they are nice easy holes to do as you are coming in from your terrible, 6 hour odyssey around this place.
All in all, Woodside is solid. Next time, I will do Lakeside. But, before I go, it’s time for me, Mark Schlereth, and Marcellus Wiley’s QUICK HITS!
The Pirates fire sale is acceptable. It can include Jack Wilson, but should not include Freddy Sanchez, if it can be helped. I would be happy if they would have received 5 maple bats, some GoGurt, and a $5 gift card at Hot Topic for Adam Laroche. Even if they received some AA fodder for him, that is acceptable. Plus, the SS looks like he can field and hit lightly. So, way to change direction boys.
My mom says, because she’s my mom and a total dear, that Ben reminds her of me. This is probably because we are both blonde haired and have enormous heads. She also accosted him by bear hugging him on the club level at the Pete during Pitt v. Miami (OH). However, mom, here’s another similarity you can count. Hooking up with girls with a history of treatment for mental illness.
Albert Pujols is the greatest first baseman of all time. Better than Gehrig.
Champagne for my real friends; real pain for my sham friends.
Thursday, July 23, 2009
My Love For Teenage Melodrama Has Met It's Match, Eh?
"So, uh, what do you wanna do tonight?"
"Mmm, get a pizza, watch ‘Degrassi Jr. High."
"You got a weird thing for Canadian melodrama."
"I got a weird thing for girls who say ‘aboot."
~ Chasing Amy
Before I delve into the meat of this post, I have two admissions to make. First, when I was in Middle School in Miami back in the mid 90's, each morning we'd have a half hour home room period where they would show us episodes of the original DeGrassi Junior High. Second, anyone who knows me is aware that I have an addiction to cheesy teenage melodrama (see, Creek, Dawson's; Hills 90210, Beverly (the new one as well) and Girl, Gossip). I am not ashamed of this. I will proudly admit that I own seasons 1, 2 and 3 of Dawson's Creek on DVD and am angry I don't have 4, 5 and 6. In fact, one can make an argument that Season 4 is the strongest of all of the seasons, although I maintain that there is not better television than the second half of season 3 when Pacey and Joey are finding their feelings for each other.
That being said my current job allows me to take one weekday off a week. On this day, I usually wake up around 10am. As I was flipping through the channels, I caught that MTV was airing back to back episodes of DeGrassi: The Next Generation. With my knowledge of the original series, I decided to take a shot with the next generation of DeGrassi's youth. After all, American teenage angst is wonderfully unintentionally hilarious. If you add Canadian to that mixture, well, the prospects are off the charts.
That being said my current job allows me to take one weekday off a week. On this day, I usually wake up around 10am. As I was flipping through the channels, I caught that MTV was airing back to back episodes of DeGrassi: The Next Generation. With my knowledge of the original series, I decided to take a shot with the next generation of DeGrassi's youth. After all, American teenage angst is wonderfully unintentionally hilarious. If you add Canadian to that mixture, well, the prospects are off the charts.
The first thing that took me off guard was that DeGrassi is a half hour show that has an ensemble cast of about thirty-five fucking kids. And these are just the kids in the opening credits. There are other kids too. Apparently they are in Season 8 now, and some of the kids are the same kids from Season 1, so I'm not sure all of that makes sense. Plus, they all talk in Canadian accents.
Anyway, DeGrassi is basically Saved by the Bell combined with Beverly Hills 90210 with a Canadian twist. It tries to balance the funny with serious. I'm not quite sure if it succeeds. I've given it five episodes so far. The proverbial jury is out.
Speaking of the serious, I researched the show on Wikipedia (the show has it's own Wiki site), and was absolutely shocked at some of the plot lines the show has covered. Granted it's high school so there's obviously a lot of fucking, heavy petting, mouth sex, drugs, cheating, break-ups and general shennanigans, but I mean, come on. So check out a brief list of shit that has gone down at DeGrassi:
- Excessive Sex Among Freshman Students
- High School Basketball Star Getting Shot and Being Wheelchair Bound
- Middle-Class Kids Joining Gangs
- Actual Coitus in the High School building
- Gay Ice Hockey Players Moving to Switzerland to Play Professional Hockey
- Freshman Bringing Vibrators to School
- Rape Resulting in Chlamydia
- False Accusations of Teachers Molesting Students
- "Stealing Goods" (assuming they mean "goods" in the UCC meaning)
- Performance of Rampant Sexual Acts in "The Ravine"
- Male Anorexia
- Teenage Pregnancy, Including, But Not Limited to 14 and Pregnant
- Abortion
- Teens with Bipolar Disorder
- High School Student Getting Testicular Cancer
- HIV Scares
- Gonorrhea
- Cocaine use
- Underage Nude Video Taping (not with cell phones, so not technically "sexting")
- Internet Stalking
- Teenage Death by Aorta Stabbing
- Lesbianism
This is probably more shit combined in less than eight seasons than The Creek or 90210 covered in their entire runs. Andie McPhee would be considered normal at DeGrassi. They wouldn't let Brandon Walsh run the newspaper (if they have such things in Canada) because he's too fucking pure. The females at DeGrassi would have Brenda Walsh cry. They would have looked at Pacey Witter fucking his teacher with disappointment that he didn't get syphilis in the transaction. They would have stabbed Dylan in the aorta for chrissakes.
Candaians are fucking crazy. Who cares if they're afraid of the dark.
All this for a 30 minute show that has been on for a little over seven seasons. Who knew Canada was so fucking crazy? I mean, I know today's youth are crazy fucked up and I've only been out of high school ten years, but shit. Does this shit really happen? My head hurts.
Candaians are fucking crazy. Who cares if they're afraid of the dark.
All this for a 30 minute show that has been on for a little over seven seasons. Who knew Canada was so fucking crazy? I mean, I know today's youth are crazy fucked up and I've only been out of high school ten years, but shit. Does this shit really happen? My head hurts.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Big Ben's Big Trouble and Other News of the Week
So, the story of the week (in Pittsburgh, at least) is that one of our favorite sons, 2-time Super Bowl Champion quarterback Ben Roethlisberger is being sued (note that I did not say charged, because that will come up later) for sexual assault. This certainly isn't something to be taken lightly, but at the same time, I, personally, have some issues with the situation.
Now, of course, Ben is my boy, and I want to believe that he wouldn't do that. Sure, he gets his. But at the same time, what pro athlete doesn't? I mean, Jeff Reed runs through girls on the Southside at will.
So, that's my disclaimer. I don't believe the woman. In part because I like Ben, in part because there have just been far too many instances where sports stars are accused, only for the story to fall apart - see Kobe, the Duke Lacrosse Team, the Bus himself.
But frankly, the most telling aspect of this from my standpoint is Ms. McNutty's failure to file criminal charges. Civil charges are all well and good, but are really better suited for determining fault in cases of negligence or deciding contractual obligations. Their role in determining fault in criminal matters is really pretty trivial.
Everything else about this story has already been said. It's fishy. Why wait so long? Why right before training camp? What's with her accusing like 8 other people of covering-up for Ben? Oh, and last but not least, what is with this bullshit of "I didn't file criminal charges because I was afraid of getting fired"? It's less likely you'll be fired by filing civil charges? Not only is that fishy, but it also doesn't make any sense.
But, really, my stance is that until Ms. McNutty decides to file criminal charges, this is nothing more than a ruse to get as much out of Ben, so that Ben can have this off his chest before the season opener against Tennessee. Sexual assault is a serious crime. The criminal system is in place to deal with serious crimes, in the sense of both handling the case with an aggression that cannot be found in the civil system (because the DA is there to protect the interests of the people of whatever jurisdiction he works for) and the level of protection that is afforded to the defendant's rights (why? because it's a serious crime, and you better be damn sure before you go convicting someone of that kind of crime). It is a crime to file a false police report. You can be charged with perjury and any other local laws which may apply to that situation. That's because in the criminal system it is recognized that you don't make the very, very serious allegation of rape without evidencing an understanding of the seriousness of your allegation - the fact that it will forever stain the life and reputation of the accused.
So, until I see a criminal complaint from Ms. McNutty, there is little question in my mind that she understands the consequences of making a false police report, and is behaving accordingly.
Other Randomness (and hopefully not channeling Peter King with that subject title)
Now, of course, Ben is my boy, and I want to believe that he wouldn't do that. Sure, he gets his. But at the same time, what pro athlete doesn't? I mean, Jeff Reed runs through girls on the Southside at will.
So, that's my disclaimer. I don't believe the woman. In part because I like Ben, in part because there have just been far too many instances where sports stars are accused, only for the story to fall apart - see Kobe, the Duke Lacrosse Team, the Bus himself.
But frankly, the most telling aspect of this from my standpoint is Ms. McNutty's failure to file criminal charges. Civil charges are all well and good, but are really better suited for determining fault in cases of negligence or deciding contractual obligations. Their role in determining fault in criminal matters is really pretty trivial.
Everything else about this story has already been said. It's fishy. Why wait so long? Why right before training camp? What's with her accusing like 8 other people of covering-up for Ben? Oh, and last but not least, what is with this bullshit of "I didn't file criminal charges because I was afraid of getting fired"? It's less likely you'll be fired by filing civil charges? Not only is that fishy, but it also doesn't make any sense.
But, really, my stance is that until Ms. McNutty decides to file criminal charges, this is nothing more than a ruse to get as much out of Ben, so that Ben can have this off his chest before the season opener against Tennessee. Sexual assault is a serious crime. The criminal system is in place to deal with serious crimes, in the sense of both handling the case with an aggression that cannot be found in the civil system (because the DA is there to protect the interests of the people of whatever jurisdiction he works for) and the level of protection that is afforded to the defendant's rights (why? because it's a serious crime, and you better be damn sure before you go convicting someone of that kind of crime). It is a crime to file a false police report. You can be charged with perjury and any other local laws which may apply to that situation. That's because in the criminal system it is recognized that you don't make the very, very serious allegation of rape without evidencing an understanding of the seriousness of your allegation - the fact that it will forever stain the life and reputation of the accused.
So, until I see a criminal complaint from Ms. McNutty, there is little question in my mind that she understands the consequences of making a false police report, and is behaving accordingly.
Other Randomness (and hopefully not channeling Peter King with that subject title)
- Christine Brennan today blamed Erin Andrews for Erin Andrews being the subject of some (especially) creepy voyeurism. "I also would suggest to her ... that she rely on her talent and brains and not succumb to the lowest common denominator in sports media by playing to the frat house."
Now, I think we can all deduce exactly what's going on here - specifically that Christine Brennan, who has had to work and scrap her entire life to make her way through this boys' club we call sports journalism, hates the fact that Ms. Andrews (who is WAY WAY WAY prettier than Christine Brennan ever was) has had it all easy standing on the sidelines and chatting up the boys.
Well, Christine Brennan's opinions, much like her writing, are mediocre at best. Now, I don't necessarily say that just to snipe at her, but if you take a look at the trash that Ms. Brennan has been churning out at USAToday, you'll see someone who lacks creativity and insight when it comes to writing about sports. What I'm trying to say is that Christine Brennan is a "C"-grade sports writer.
Contrarily, Erin Andrews is an "A"-grade sideline reporter. Sure, she's attractive, but she actually does know a bit about sports, and, unlike most sideline reporters, is able to stand over there and not sound like a complete bimbo when talking about sports. Dare I say it, she actually sounds like she really likes sports and really likes reporting on them. Ironically, that is where the attraction stems from. The fact that she can talk about sports, and is talented at her job. Yes, this does get most sports nerds going.
For example, this has led to sports nerds' interest in such sideline reporters as Suzy Kolber and Bonnie Bernstein over the variety of other no-name sideline reporters who may have been far more attractive - i.e. (the former?) Mrs. Scott Erickson, who some people say was hot, but I couldn't tell you what she looked like, just that she was a fucking idiot when it came to sports.
So, I guess my point is this: Christine, she's popular with the "frat crowd" because she's so good at her job. Being pretty is a basic qualification for sideline reporters, it's that she actually knows what's going on that gets the guys all hot and bothered... - COMPLETELY unrelated to sports, there's been a lot of hubbub about these two stories: South Carolina Governor Mark Sanford found a crease in the time-space continuum that allowed him to teleport from Erwin, Tennessee to Buenos Aires, Argentina without even knowing it, causing him to fall wang-first, into a young Argentinian woman.
In similarly humiliating fashion, it appears that a suburban Boston police detective tried to arrest a very well-respected Harvard professor named Henry Louis Gates Jr. for trying to get into his own house. He then actually did arrest Gates because Gates got pissed off that some dumbass cop was accusing him of trying to break into his own house. Oh yes, did I mention that Gates is black?
So, I'm of the opinion that both of these individuals need to be removed from their respective positions of power and discretion forthwith. I believe this not because Sanford is an adulterer or because this cop may or may not be a racist. I believe this because these two individuals, who are often required to make important decisions, are CLEARLY INCAPABLE OF MAKING GOOD DECISIONS.
I mean, shit, you go to Argentina, telling your staff that you're going to Appalachia, and then give them no way to get a hold of you? How stupid are you? You have the power to make decisions about anything, nonetheless hold office as the chief executive of an entire state??? I can halfway see him spending $40 billion on anchors to throw off the coast of Hilton Head Island to hold it down during hurricanes, with his track record.
And as for this suburban beantown cop. Look, I know that Boston is the most racist place that thinks it isn't racist. Whitest city in the world, hands down. I understand, you've probably seen 3 black people ever. However, if you see a well-groomed, well-spoken, highly-educated individual, presumably in a suit, trying to get in THE FRONT DOOR of his house AT 12:44 PM!!!!!!!!1ONE!!!!!! And then he shows you (1) his drivers license (with an address matching the one he's trying to get into) and (2) his Harvard ID identifying him as, indeed, someone who might live in the area, the proper response is not to continue to give him a hard time, and then arrest him when he takes your hard-time-giving poorly (seriously, if a cop tried to harass me for trying to get into my own house, and then did anything except ask for ID and then APOLOGIZE and leave immediately, I'd be fucking livid)...Well, my friend, you are not capable of making a rational decision. Oh yeah, did I mention that the guy you are harassing is black? You should treat him with due respect and courtesy regardless, because, again, you ARE A PUBLIC SERVANT, SERVING AT THE PLEASURE OF THE PUBLIC, but seriously dude, think about it, this is a lot more of a story when you're a dick to a well-respected African-American man than if this were some white dude. Even if you're not enough of a person to treat people with respect regardless of race, you have to be smarter than that, and certainly if you're a representative of the government.
So, in short, both of them should be gone. They make decisions like they're Tony Romo and there's only 1:37 left in the game. (Bad, poor, disastrously bad, even)... LOL. More like Tony Rompwn3d!!!!!!!! - Speaking of bad decision-makers... LeBron + Nike... It really wasn't bad at all. They turned it into the sickest dunk ever in everyone's mind...
- In case you haven't been reading this blog for very long, let me explain this to you: Donte Stallworth may have caused the death of some poor construction worker. The construction worker also may have run out in the street, not in a cross-walk, in an attempt to cross 3 lanes of 40+ MPH traffic.
Even though what Stallworth did was stupid, it's not clear that he was to blame for this death. That's why it got settled.
Nonetheless, what Stallworth did is FAR FAR FAR worse than what Mike Vick did. The lesson? Mike Vick's punishment was fucking preposterous. Stallworth was punished appropriately. Vick wasn't.
His suspensions should end as soon as Goodell has the chance to talk with him. Give him his shot. He's paid far more than his crime was worth, and the average person's treatment of him shows the deterioration of our culture and the lack of respect which we have for human life.
Additionally, I want to see him play football again, cause man he was entertaining.
Your Random Mid 80's to Early 90's Baseball Player of the Day is: Chili Davis!
Your Random Mid 80's to Early 90's Baseball Player of the Day is: Chili Davis!Quick Pop Quiz. Who's 4th on the all time home run list among switch hitters behind only Mickey Mantle, Eddie Murray and Chipper Jones. Answer: Chili Fucking Davis.
Charles Theodore Davis was born in Kingston, Jamaica. Legend goes that when he was 12 years old, he had such a bad haircut, the neighborhood kids called him "Chili Bowl". Over time, the "Bowl" portion disappeared and we were left with just "Chili". Chili is widely regarded as the greatest Jamaican Born Major League Baseball Player of All-Time. (Nearly edging out Devon White and Justin Masterson, the only other Jamaican born Major League Baseball Players.)
Chili was an underrated baseball player and an overrated human. More on the latter later.
As an outfielder and designated hitter in the Major League Baseball, Chili was a solid middle of the lineup bat. Over his career, Chili's perseverance was honored with three all-star nominations and three World Series rings. Chili had career totals of a .274 average, 2380 hits, 350 home runs and 1372 RBI's. Not too shabby Chili. Not too shabby at all.
As a human, Chili wasn't as solid. In fact, he was downright scary. In 2003, Chili's wife, Ms. Chili made some startling allegations against him in a court of law. Among other things, Ms. Chili claims that Chili attacked her in the shower, held her down in the shower with his foot, spit tobacco onto her and urinated into a drain next to her head. Ms. Chilli alleged these actions occurred over several hours because Chili wanted her to hand over title to a car. Chili, take a lesson from this guy, peeing on teammates in a shower is always funny, but peeing on your wife in a fit of rage is not. In another incident, Ms. Chili alleged she awoke to find Chili sitting in a chair, asked if she wanted to use the phone to call anyone and immediately ripped the phone from the wall. Although she did not allege that Chili said "What is your name? IT DOESN'T MATTER WHAT YOUR NAME IS". In court, Ms. Chili had a recording of Chilli saying "[Ms. Chili, you deserved to get hit... and any woman that I ever met like you deserves to get their ass kicked". While not grammatically correct, frightening nonetheless.
Currently, Chili Davis is attempting to open Chili Davis' Premier Baseball somewhere in Arizona. Whatever that means.
Shockingly, Chili Davis is the second Random Mid 80's to Early 90's Baseball Player to have a crappy band on Myspace named after him. For you listening (dis)pleasure, we present to you, Chili Davis.
So, in summary, Chili, solid baseball player, awful human.
So here's to you Chili Davis, our Random Mid 80's to Early 90's Baseball Player of the Day, if you promise not to pee on our heads, we'll give you the title to our hearts.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Vince and Ruben's Offseason NBA Adventures! (Part 2)
Ruben: Monday, July 13, 2009 10:33amHold on. Let me print your e-mail out and read it on the toilet when I take my 11:00 am poop break at work.
[25 minutes later]. Fantastic breakdown on Shaq and Cleveland. I couldn't agree with you more. It'll be fun watching Lebron play with Eric Gordon, Chris Kaman and Blake Griffin next year. While I see what you're getting at with Vinsanity, I'd be in a lot more agreement with you if this were 2003. Vince doesn't attack the rim like he used to, or as much as Hedo (although if he did, he's definitely better). Skills and talent wise, VC is much better than Hedo. However, that's all on paper. Hedo is a bit overrated, but he's a great team player. Out of all the free agents this year, the only one D-Wade called to try and recruit was Hedo, even though the Heat didn't have any cap room. D-Wade said that he loves that guy. My point is that Hedo wanted the ball in crunch time, has a trademark on the awkward stutter and step back three in crunch time, and guys enjoy playing with him. Without him, who takes the big time shots with Orlando?
I love the utterly insane and always enjoyable Ron Artest. Great basketball player. Probably a bit underrated. Definitely an upgrade from Ariza. If he behaves, he makes a fantastic third option. Say they offer Lamar Odom the full midlevel and unlimited Sour Patch kids and he comes back, that's a scary looking team. Fisher-Kobe-Artest-Gasol-Bynum with Odom as the sixth man. I don't know if Bynum wants to be better. I know you claim Bynum handled Doowight Howard well in the Finals, but so did Kendrick Perkins. I think if you put a Max Starks Fathead (much like the one in the bathroom of D's Six Pack) in the paint, Doowight Howard will struggle. As you said, he has no offensive game outside six to eight inches. For the Lakers, old man Fisher is your weak link and he's become their poor-man's Robert Horry come playoff time. Certainly intimidating. However, the Lakers question mark is whether they're still hungry for that title. Kobe got the proverbial monkey off the back, he's cemented his place in NBA history, how much does he still care, does he go into full on coast mode, pad his stats.
Here's the team I love next year: San Antonio. They are ridiculously calculating and methodical. Everyone was about to count them out. I love every move they made. They are like the anti-Cleveland. They have the best coach in the league, Cleveland may have the worst. They have the best front office in the league. Cleveland doesn't have the worst, but they're threatening. They realized that Duncan is getting old and the window is closing. Duncan's lost some steam, but he's still as reliable and as fundamentally sound as ever. He can still take over a series by himself. Parker is a penetrating point guard who can score in bunches and shoots the midrange shot as well as any point guard in the league. Ginobli and his disturbing bald spot is slightly overrated at this point, but still a deadly wing player and stout defender.
I like Richard Jefferson. I think he's perfect for that team. Bruce Bowen was decrepit from eating too many chicken wings at Flannigans. Jefferson can score when needed. He's a long atheltic defender, he has some range. By all accounts he's a solid character guy. He's very similar to Artest. Artest is probably a better defender, but Jefferson might be a little more polished offensively and slightly more athletic. Drafting our boy Dejuan Blair was a coup. He shouldn't have been there and he goes to a team with great leadership and character. They signed Antonio McDyess who may be 63 at this point, but is still somewhat effective. They got Matt Bonner and George Hill.
(Editors Note: Special thanks to The Monk, our quality control consultant who brings up the following: Spurs also took Jack McClinton, the sharpshooter from The U. "GO CANES". Jack has had a rough summer, but because Ginobli and Parker are at their best when driving, and Jack is a three point shooter, he should have plenty of open threes as their "assassin".)
I think the inevitable San Antonio - Lakers matchup in the Western Conference Finals is going to be fantastic. I think the Spurs have the edge because they have better coaching. Coach Phillip has had a great career, but at this point his coaching philosophy is "Hey Kobe, talk to the guys, I'm gonna sit here and look zen."
You agree? You still taking the Lakers? Think my way too early Lebron to the Clippers prediction is asinine? If not, how do the Cavs convince Lebron to stay?
Vince: Monday, July 20, 2009 2:58pm
I intended to respond sooner, and more thoroughly, than what is contained below. Unfortunately, my job took an unexpected turn to "ridiculously busy"--from it's ordinary state of "I am way too busy"--such that I could not responsibly give your comments their appropriate rejoinder.
So I summarize what I would have said:
1 - San Antonio continues its dominance in the department of Shrewd (yet Decadent) Team Management. Blair and Jefferson are both great evidence of their thoughtful planning.
2 - Your Odom commentary may prove irrelevant to the Lakers, but hyper-relevant to the Heat. I'm sure you're boner'd about this.
3 - The Summer League (with standard "it's NOT the NBA!" caveat): lol at the Clippers for sending Eric Gordon (who, incidentally, should have been a more serious ROY candidate, or for second place, at least). Anthony Randolph is 90% limbs, but he manages to make that trait an asset. Blake Griffin has a bad case of Battier-head And Chase Budinger is a lot like Dirk Nowitski, except for his body, demeanor, playing style, national origin, talent level and dancing skills.
4 - Max Starks has a fathead? And a 9 million contract as a backup? Am I questioning a single thing the Steelers do?
Vince: Monday, July 20, 2009 3:51 pm
UPDATE!: Big Baby Bassy to the Clippers! The Clippers pairing Telfair with Boom and maybe even AI? We haven't seen that much dribbling since Dan visited Asia!
Vince and Ruben's Offseason NBA Adventures! (Part 1)
There's a urban legend in Pittsburgh that no one cares about the NBA. We don't have an NBA team here. The closest NBA team is in fucking Cleveland. The closest we've been to the NBA is "The Fish That Saved Pittsburgh". I say fuck that. There are those of us in Pittsburgh who still care about the NBA. I'm from Miami, I'm a huge fan of the Miami Heat, the team, not the weather.Our buddy Vince, who you've met in our previous NBA posts, is the biggest NBA fan we know in Pittsburgh (apologies to the mysterious Mr. Radcliffe, but the previous statement works better for this post). Vince is a native Pittsburgher who is currently on sabbatical in San Francisco, and is an adopted Golden State Warriors fan. Vince's claim to fame is once playing LeBron to Sam Young's random Xavier basketball player up at Trees.
With all the activity in the NBA Off-Season, Vince and I have decided to exchange "brief" e-mails regarding some of the moves in the NBA Off-Season that hopefully flow smoothly.
Let's see how it goes..
Ruben, Thursday, July 9, 2009, 4:05 pm.
I look at some of these recent moves, and I'm like, "When did it suddenly become 2002-2003 in the NBA again?". You look at some of the big names moving to contenders and it's guys who were super stars five years ago. Shaq to Cleveland. Rasheed Wallace to Boston. Vince Carter to Orlando. Shawn Marion to Dallas. Jason Kidd resigns with Dallas. Mike Bibby resigns with Atlanta. These are all teams who at least advanced to the second round of the playoffs last year. If it were 2003 it would be one thing, but in 2009? Are any of these guys really difference makers anymore? Are some of these teams worried that the balance of powers are going to shift in 2010 and that they better load up for one final run while they still have it? All of these teams have questions. Is Lebron going to bolt Cleveland? Does KG have anything left in the tank for Boston? How will Orlando respond to losing it's heart and soul and crunch time guy? How many more competitive years does the Dirk-Howard-Terry crew have? How long until Atlanta goes back to sucking?
Vince: Saturday, July 11, 2009 5:45pm
I'm going to overlook your offensive reference to "difference makers" (and implied support of ESPN's NEXT campaign), and go straight to the meat of your argument. And when I say "meat," of course I meant "doughnut." And when I randomly bring up doughnuts, I have an excuse to provide this link.
The link is not entirely irrelevant. In fact, it symbolically makes your point: No one takes Shaq seriously, except as an entertainer. But here's where I disagree with you: there is nothing noteworthy about Shaq being irrelevant, while everyone pretends he's still an NBA force. This has happened since at least his last full year in Miami. Perhaps even his Miami championship year. It's old news that Shaq is old news.
The reason the Shaq deal is noteworthy is more offensive, more sinister. On one side, the deal features an inept Cleveland organization, making a last gasp effort to placate Lebron. To use a phrase perhaps as grating as "difference maker": Really, Cleveland? Shaq? After 6 years of essentially saying "Do you like Larry Hughes? Not really? How bout no one, then? Ok, you win: we'll get you Mo Williams and pretend he's an All Star"? On the other side, this deal features Lebron James, who may or may not have any idea the disruption he's causing in THE ENTIRE NBA by keeping his cards so close.
You can imagine a husband mistreating his wife for years. Unfaithful. Physically abusive. Emotionally unstable. When the wife finally announces her intentions to leave, the husband makes a final effort to make amends . . . by buying her flowers? Shaq is Cleveland's bouquet of flowers to Lebron. Seriously, not even a big diamond ring? Even if Lebron is batshit insane and probably drove Cleveland to do what they did? ok, I'm confusing metaphors.
Point being: shaq is evidence of dysfunction, not mere stupidity.
Having spent so much text on Shaq, I respond to your Hedo comment with brevity: Hedo =/= heart&soul of any team, much less the Toronto Turkish Sports Fan Assembly.
The other Orlando offseason move is far more intriguing, and I say this as someone who distinctly dislikes Vince Carter: I think he improves the Magic's offense. One element they quite clearly lacked throughout the playoffs was a player who could make his own offense. When the "plays" they ran broke down (i.e., no one randomly got open for an uncontested 3 and "Doowight" was unable to get position 6-8 inches from the rim), the Magic offense featured an embarrassing lack of offensive creativity. Carter has shown some athletic decline recently, but he remains one of the league's more developed offensive players.
But the rest of those moves are, to me, uninteresting. Kidd remains a serviceable veteran, Rasheed a perennial underachiever, blah blah. None of those moves or resignings change the NBA landscape. The intriguing moves took place in only two organizations: the Lakers and the Spurs.
The Lakers have no made a complete transition from talented-but-wimpy to arguably the most hardass team in the NBA. Yes, I think Pau Gasol incredibly improved his "toughness" and am counting him as one of the hardasses. I don't think anyone would plausibly argue Kobe, Fisher, and Odom aren't monsters. And Ron Artest is . . . sensitive. And Bynum, despite playing like a timid child, is big enough to disrupt any center in the league. The Lakers got better.
But what about the Spurs? Does Richard Jefferson clearly improve this team? Or is he a temporary distraction for 1-2 seasons while The Big Fundamentals becomes obsolete?
Friday, July 17, 2009
The End of the Week Randomness Extravaganza!
THE NEWS
Pac-Man Jones. A little while ago he "Made it Rain" then got in a lot of trouble. Now there's video. Enjoy.
Well, if Tiger Woods wants to go to Hooters this weekend, he's certainly free, but his buddy John Daly won't, he's got plans.
Phillips Rivers got his ass embarrassed by a high school kid, but didn't act like a bitch. Still is a whiny bitch in general though and is not better than Ben Roethlisberger.
Antonie Walker arrested in Vegas for bouncing over $800,000 in fraudulent checks, trying to figure out a way to shimmy his way out of it.
From the, "No Shit" Department, some Travis Henry news. It's either involving (a) siring another child or (b) being sentenced for drugs. If you went with (b), give yourself $5 dollars.
Richard Jefferson, allegedly left his fiance at the alter and didn't tell anyone (probably not entirely true), but goes into damage control over rumors of his own sexuality/man-crush on Manu Ginobli and his bald spot. (Okay, we made some of that up).
NASACAR and Meth, they go together like lamb and tuna fish? So a NASCAR driver likes the Hillbillie Heroin and we're supposed to be surprised? (Bonus, calls mother-in-law a whore!)
LC and Lo taking up Lacrosse? Well, anything Lo does is A-okay in my book. Lo was the most underrated member of Laguna Beach/The Hills. We'll take her over Audrina's missing lip and fake tits any day.
RANDOM LINKING FUN
This is some stupid kind of indoor soccer/handball hybrid, but the goal is pretty sweet. Click Me!
Interesting comparison of Athletes to Rappers. Click me!
YOUR RANDOM YOUTUBE VIDEOS OF THE WEEK
Kris Letang and Tyler Kennedy Stop By KDKA to Do the Weather...
... Poorly.
Part One
Part 2
White Girls Do Bill Cosby
Following Up on Last Week's Asians Doing Chris Walken...
Black and White People Furniture
Beat It: Shaq Style
From the "Really, Really, Really Bad Ideas" Department
Um... yeah. This is in no way offensive.
You're Weekly Fix of Other Cultures
.
YOUR YOUTUBE HALL OF FAME NOMINEE OF THE WEEK
"We are The World"
Kenny Rogers facial reactions, Kenny Loggins, One of the guys from Hall and Oates, and Dan Akroyd. Murderers' Row. Nuff' said.
Pac-Man Jones. A little while ago he "Made it Rain" then got in a lot of trouble. Now there's video. Enjoy.
Well, if Tiger Woods wants to go to Hooters this weekend, he's certainly free, but his buddy John Daly won't, he's got plans.
Phillips Rivers got his ass embarrassed by a high school kid, but didn't act like a bitch. Still is a whiny bitch in general though and is not better than Ben Roethlisberger.
Antonie Walker arrested in Vegas for bouncing over $800,000 in fraudulent checks, trying to figure out a way to shimmy his way out of it.
From the, "No Shit" Department, some Travis Henry news. It's either involving (a) siring another child or (b) being sentenced for drugs. If you went with (b), give yourself $5 dollars.
Richard Jefferson, allegedly left his fiance at the alter and didn't tell anyone (probably not entirely true), but goes into damage control over rumors of his own sexuality/man-crush on Manu Ginobli and his bald spot. (Okay, we made some of that up).
NASACAR and Meth, they go together like lamb and tuna fish? So a NASCAR driver likes the Hillbillie Heroin and we're supposed to be surprised? (Bonus, calls mother-in-law a whore!)
LC and Lo taking up Lacrosse? Well, anything Lo does is A-okay in my book. Lo was the most underrated member of Laguna Beach/The Hills. We'll take her over Audrina's missing lip and fake tits any day.
RANDOM LINKING FUN
This is some stupid kind of indoor soccer/handball hybrid, but the goal is pretty sweet. Click Me!
Interesting comparison of Athletes to Rappers. Click me!
YOUR RANDOM YOUTUBE VIDEOS OF THE WEEK
Kris Letang and Tyler Kennedy Stop By KDKA to Do the Weather...
... Poorly.
Part One
Part 2
White Girls Do Bill Cosby
Following Up on Last Week's Asians Doing Chris Walken...
Black and White People Furniture
Beat It: Shaq Style
From the "Really, Really, Really Bad Ideas" Department
Um... yeah. This is in no way offensive.
You're Weekly Fix of Other Cultures
.
YOUR YOUTUBE HALL OF FAME NOMINEE OF THE WEEK
"We are The World"
Kenny Rogers facial reactions, Kenny Loggins, One of the guys from Hall and Oates, and Dan Akroyd. Murderers' Row. Nuff' said.
Nice Pants John Daly.
Take a look at the pants. Go ahead. Bask in their absurdity. Even Ian Poulter wouldn't try and pull pants like that off. But you know what, that's John Daly. Fans love him. Guys got two major championships. Two more than Montie. Two more than Sergio. One more than David Duval. One more than Mike Weir.
When I attended a practice round at The Masters this year with my dad, we were following Zach Johnson. Two thirty year olds were shooting the shit with him as he walked up the 6th hole. "Hey Zach, want to meet us at Hooters?", one of them shouted. Zach Johnson cracked a smile. "You know John Daly is already there.", the other one shouted. Zach Johnson couldn't hold it in and started cracking up. That's John Daly.
Over the years, John Daly has been one of the more recognizable golfers on tour, for better or worse, usually worse. So in honor of his awesome pants, and the fact that he's currently only 3 back during the second round at Turnberry, here are some quick John Daly highlights.
Claimed to have hit an 806 yard drive on an L.A. Airport runway.
Claimed he doesn't work out because they don't allow him to smoke in gyms.
Cut a country album.
Traveled from tournament to tournament in an RV.
Defended his health by saying "I believe nicotine plus caffeine equals protein".
Was married and divorced three times, the final marriage ending amid allegations his wife was having an affair with this douche.
Gambled quite a bit.
Went to Hooters quite a bit. Here, here, here, here, and here.
And that's all without bringing up his problems with alcohol. So yeah, that's John Daly. That's why he can wear pants like this and why he's arguably the third most popular player on the tour. When all is said and done, I think I get it.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Your Random Mid 80's to Early 90's Baseball Player of the Day is: Mike Blowers!
Your Random Mid 80's to Early 90's Baseball Player of the Day is: Mike Blowers.Born in 1965 in Wurzburg, West Germany, hometown of Dirk Nowitzki and Wilhelm Conrad Röntgen. Michael Ray Blowers is probably not German. Operation Shutdown assumes his pops was in the military. The most enjoyable non-baseball thing about Mike Blowers is how dirty his name sounds.
The erstwhile Third Baseman played 11 seasons in the Major League Baseball with the Yankees, Mariners, Dodgers and Athletics. While Blowers never got more than 500 at bats in a single season, he nonetheless had a lasting impact on the Major League Baseball, and in particular, Seattle Mariner fans. He grew up in Spanaway, Washington, played for Tacoma Community College and later the University of Washington, and had his best seasons while with his hometown Seattle Mariners.
While many would consider the career of Blowers that of a mediocre journeyman to be forgotten not a long time from now, you all can blowers his balls as Blowers shares not one, but two records in the Major League Baseball. First, Blowers was the 13th player to hit Grand Slams on consecutive days (while a Mariner) and tied an American League record by committing four errors in a single game playing third base for the Yankees. Blowers will also be remembered by nobody for reaching a baseball feat that not many others can claim: Blowers hit for the cycle, in 1998 as a member of the Athletics. Blowers finest season came in 1995 for Seattle when he batted .257 with 23 home runs and 96 RBI's. These feats are pretty remarkable considering Blowers carries with him a career .257 average, 591 hits, 78 home runs and 365 RBI's.
The best thing about Mark Blowers, is his name, which sounds infinitely more like he's involved in gay porn. So in honor of Mark Blowers, Operation Shutdown presents you with the five baseball players in history who could easily be confused as Male on Male Adult Film Stars.
5. Rich Harden. Wheelhouse: Canadian Male on Male Action. Suggested Title: "Mountie Me: The Unauthorized Story of Canada's First Gay Mountie"
4. Dick Pole. Wheelhouse: Mustache Rides. Suggested Titles: "Jackie Treehorn Presents: Log-Rammin'", "I'll Ride the Pine", "Did Someone Ask for the Long Reliever"
3. Albert Pujols. Wheelhouse: Rear Entries. Suggested Titles: "Meat Me in St. Louis", "That HGH Needle is Not All You Can Inject in My Butt", "Sheffield Gave Me the Cream"
2. Johnny Dickshot. Wheelhouse: Multiple Partners. Suggested Titles "I Fucked The Clubhouse Attendent", "I Fucked The Equipment Guy", "I Fucked the Play by Play Announcer", "I Fucked The Assistant to the Traveling Secretary"
1. Pete LaCock Wheelhouse: Bondage. Suggested Titles: "Cock-Strapped", "Club House Bonding", "I'll Turn Two"
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
A History of Baseball For Those Who've Fogotten, Or Just Never Knew
The "steroids era", as it is so fondly called, encompassing a period of time from, roughly, 1986 until now, is an era marred by cheaters who hated baseball so much that they wanted to ruin all of those great "numbers" for us. "61". "755". Other numbers that mattered, well, because baseball writers are sad to be old.
Similarly, the changes in baseball numbers have been blamed on new ballparks, which are built such that they end up skewing the numbers. This, too, is an abomination.
But in a strange way, the steroids era has done wonders for baseball. It broke has down every important statistical barrier that sports writers had used as a crutch to help them determine who was good enough to be in the Hall of Fame, and who wasn't.
But let's get to the heart of this post: for all of those bullshit baseball writers out there (looking right at you, Gregg Doyle), I contend that it is you who are cheating American baseball fans, and it is you who are slowly breaking down and destroying this game by so manipulating the public perception of baseball history. That's right, you are the cheaters.
How dare I, you ask? Well, it's actually quite easy. Baseball players promise only to play the game within the rules. Contrarily, you "promise" to be objective and accurate, to the best of your abilities, in reporting on the sport. Mark McGwire never cheated. Most baseball writers, on the other hand, have crucified these players for the sake of readership.
But that's for another post, and a proper discussion of how shitty Doyle and like-writers are.
So, here are some things everyone needs to remember when considering the steroids era. First, statistics should never be the determining factor in naming players to the HOF. While this might have worked once upon a time, it has become clear that this doesn't work. Bert Blyleven has been left out of the hall based solely on the fact he never got to 300 wins. Unfortunately, the writers now have to work to make their decisions.
Second, the HOF has never judged character. Ty Cobb and Cap Anson were terrible, horrible racists. Babe Ruth corked his bat. Whitey Ford used to cut the baseball and cover it in a homemade glue substance to get better movement on his off-speed pitches. Bobby Thompson hit "The Shot Heard Round the World" on a stolen sign. Maybe.
In fact, there has only been one inviolable rule. And that's the no betting on the game rule.
Third, stadiums have been altering the game forever. The Polo Grounds was only 240 down the lines. Bobby Thompson's "shot" went about 295 feet. Oh, and Vic Wertz's bomb that Willie Mays tracked down in Game 1 of the 1954 World Series? That was 450 feet from home plate. So what were people saying about stadiums altering the game?
In fact, I'm going to continue, because one stadium out of so many doesn't really prove my point.
Fifth and finally, let's blame expansion to some extent. Pre-1960, there were 16 teams. Now there are 30. That means that to fill all 30 major league rosters, you would have needed every MLB guy from 1959, plus almost 90% of those team's Triple-A-equivalent affiliates. That's just to fill the Major League rosters. What that means is that guys like Bonds and Pujols and Manny are facing 1950's minor league quality talent almost half of the time. There's no way that numbers can avoid being inflated somewhat at that point. But really, guys like Pujols and Bonds still would have been great, even if forced to play better competition. But it also ups the numerical quality of mediocre players. Maybe the overall talent level is better now than it was 50 years ago, but this also means that guys who were 75th percentile talents in 1959 would be more like 85-90th percentile players nowadays.
So my point is this: there's nothing new under the sun in baseball: not trying to take advantage of the rules, not funky stadiums that inflate numbers, not players acting irresponsibly and detestably in their pursuit of success in the sport. As a result, I personally think we're best off enjoying the sport for what it is: America's past-time. A game so full of history and personalities, and one that has continued to produce memories and favorite players over the past 20 years. Just like this country's history, baseball has had its share unpopular characters and poor decisions. But that shouldn't distract us from the beautiful players and moments we've seen in the last 20 years.
Ultimately, it's not that hard to tell Barry Bonds and Alex Rodriguez and Manny Ramirez from Jim Thome and Fred McGriff and Jose Canseco. Let's stop acting like it is.
Do you really want to hear the horrible truth, or do you want to see me sock a few dingers? - Mark McGwire
Similarly, the changes in baseball numbers have been blamed on new ballparks, which are built such that they end up skewing the numbers. This, too, is an abomination.
But in a strange way, the steroids era has done wonders for baseball. It broke has down every important statistical barrier that sports writers had used as a crutch to help them determine who was good enough to be in the Hall of Fame, and who wasn't.
But let's get to the heart of this post: for all of those bullshit baseball writers out there (looking right at you, Gregg Doyle), I contend that it is you who are cheating American baseball fans, and it is you who are slowly breaking down and destroying this game by so manipulating the public perception of baseball history. That's right, you are the cheaters.
How dare I, you ask? Well, it's actually quite easy. Baseball players promise only to play the game within the rules. Contrarily, you "promise" to be objective and accurate, to the best of your abilities, in reporting on the sport. Mark McGwire never cheated. Most baseball writers, on the other hand, have crucified these players for the sake of readership.
But that's for another post, and a proper discussion of how shitty Doyle and like-writers are.
So, here are some things everyone needs to remember when considering the steroids era. First, statistics should never be the determining factor in naming players to the HOF. While this might have worked once upon a time, it has become clear that this doesn't work. Bert Blyleven has been left out of the hall based solely on the fact he never got to 300 wins. Unfortunately, the writers now have to work to make their decisions.
Second, the HOF has never judged character. Ty Cobb and Cap Anson were terrible, horrible racists. Babe Ruth corked his bat. Whitey Ford used to cut the baseball and cover it in a homemade glue substance to get better movement on his off-speed pitches. Bobby Thompson hit "The Shot Heard Round the World" on a stolen sign. Maybe.
In fact, there has only been one inviolable rule. And that's the no betting on the game rule.
Third, stadiums have been altering the game forever. The Polo Grounds was only 240 down the lines. Bobby Thompson's "shot" went about 295 feet. Oh, and Vic Wertz's bomb that Willie Mays tracked down in Game 1 of the 1954 World Series? That was 450 feet from home plate. So what were people saying about stadiums altering the game?
In fact, I'm going to continue, because one stadium out of so many doesn't really prove my point.
- Griffith Stadium in Washington, was originally 408 down the left field line. Most MLB stadiums now aren't that deep to center.
- Contrarily, the LA Coliseum, home of the Dodgers for 4 years after moving to LA, was 250 to left, with a 40 foot high screen to keep it from being way too easy to homer.
- Shibe Park in Philly was originally 515 to center.
Fifth and finally, let's blame expansion to some extent. Pre-1960, there were 16 teams. Now there are 30. That means that to fill all 30 major league rosters, you would have needed every MLB guy from 1959, plus almost 90% of those team's Triple-A-equivalent affiliates. That's just to fill the Major League rosters. What that means is that guys like Bonds and Pujols and Manny are facing 1950's minor league quality talent almost half of the time. There's no way that numbers can avoid being inflated somewhat at that point. But really, guys like Pujols and Bonds still would have been great, even if forced to play better competition. But it also ups the numerical quality of mediocre players. Maybe the overall talent level is better now than it was 50 years ago, but this also means that guys who were 75th percentile talents in 1959 would be more like 85-90th percentile players nowadays.
So my point is this: there's nothing new under the sun in baseball: not trying to take advantage of the rules, not funky stadiums that inflate numbers, not players acting irresponsibly and detestably in their pursuit of success in the sport. As a result, I personally think we're best off enjoying the sport for what it is: America's past-time. A game so full of history and personalities, and one that has continued to produce memories and favorite players over the past 20 years. Just like this country's history, baseball has had its share unpopular characters and poor decisions. But that shouldn't distract us from the beautiful players and moments we've seen in the last 20 years.
Ultimately, it's not that hard to tell Barry Bonds and Alex Rodriguez and Manny Ramirez from Jim Thome and Fred McGriff and Jose Canseco. Let's stop acting like it is.
Do you really want to hear the horrible truth, or do you want to see me sock a few dingers? - Mark McGwire
The "Non-Star" Teams...
The MLB All-Star Game takes place this evening in St. Louis. If history repeats itself, the game will either be boring and the National League will lose, or the game will be close and the National League will lose. With injuries, birth of children, anxiety, raquetball reservations and fatigue, so many players make the All-Star team it's become meaningless. I mean, Zach Duke is second in the National League in lossess, and he's made the team. The Pirates are a fucking joke and they have two all-stars.
Writers on ESPN.com, CNNSI.com and other sports sites love to do their "Mid Season Awards" and inevitably, they always toss out the "LVP" (Least Valuable Player) in each league and the "Cy Yuk" (Worst Pitcher). Here at Operation Shutdown, we've decided to take that the next step and bring you an entire team of the crappiest, laziest and most underperforming players of the season at each position and each team. A "No-Stars Team" if you will.
Before we dive in, we've laid down some groundrules. For position players, we've established a baseline that you've had to have played a significant amount of time at that position, say at least 235 at bats. For Catchers, we've been a bit more lenient. Pitchers, you've had to have thrown at least 10 games (save for one exception in each league). Finally, the player has to be a legitimate major leaguer who has either had success in the past, or was a big time prospect at one time or another. Without further delay, here are your "No-Stars".
The National League
Catcher: Jason Kendall - .233, 0HR, 23 RBI's, 60 hits on the season 50 of them singles. Throwing out 20% of basestealers which in the NL is only better than the Molina brother in San Fran. He doesn't hit well. He doesn't catch well. How is he still a starter?
First Base: Adam LaRoche- .250, 12HR, 39 RBI's. Less RBI's than every starting NL 1B other than Nick Johnson (who has one less) and Casey Kotchman. Has the worst batting average of all other everyday NL first baseman. Only Ryan Howard has more strikeouts. Bitched about Pirates management. Was correct about Pirates management. Will not be a Pirate in a month. The .250 average at the break is a shock. Usually he's at .220 at this point.
Second Base: David Eckstein- .267, 1HR, 33 RBI's, 30 runs, .330 OBP. Although statistically the top fielding 2B in NL, he's turned into Kevin Stocker at the plate. Doesn't run much, doesn't get extra base hits. Not terrible, but barely average. But he's little, he's kind of cute in a Dennis the Menace sort of way, and his wife does voice acting for the Star Wars: Clone Wars Cartoon.
Shortstop: Jimmy Rollins- .229, 7HR's, 34 RBI's, .287 OBP. Incredibly awful season for the former MVP. Huge liability for the defending World Series champions. Always overrated, his 2007 MVP looks like a distant memory. He's better than this. He's not an MVP, but he's better than this.
Third Base: Emilio Bonificaio- .258. 1HR, 21 RBI's, .304 OBP, NL leading 13 errors at the hot corner. Clearly not a true 3B, is a 2B playing out of position. However, he'd still be on this list if he was playing 2B. Has speed to burn, but swings at everything and does not get on base enough to justify being a leadoff guy.
Left Field: Alfonso Soriano- .233, 14HR, 33 RBI's, .298 OBP, a shocking 7 errors already in LF. 82 strikeouts to 29 walks. Only 7 steals. His miraculously crappy season is flying under the radar as fellow Cub Milton Bradley stinks it up. He's aging faster than Jena Haze.
Center Field: Chris Young- .196, 6HR, 25 RBI's, .289 OBP. The 25 year old has never broken .250 and probably never will. He's had 255 at bats and still can't get over the Mendoza line. Only member of the Non-Stars to be batting under .200.
Right Field: Jeff Francoeur- .256, 5HR, 37 RBI's, .286 OBP. Turned down straight up for Cody Ross. Traded to the sinking ship that is the NY Mets. 47 strikeouts, 12 walks. Is probably a mortal lock to be the next player on the DL with "Anxiety".
Starting Pitcher: Ian Snell- 2-8, 5.36 ERA, 1.62 WHIP, 52 k's and 44 walk. Opponents were hitting a respectable .282 off of him. Demanded Pirates demote him to Triple AAA. Hates playing in Pittsburgh and is possibly suicidal.
Starting Pitcher: Todd Wellemeyer 7-7. 5.56 ERA, 1.72 WHIP, 64 k's and 47 walks. Opponents are batting a staggering .319 against him. How does this guy have 7 wins and only 7 losses? How come teammate Joel Pinerio is pitching a hell of a lot better and has a record that is way worse. Sometimes, baseball is not fair.
Starting Pitcher: Daniel Cabrera- 0-5, 5.85, 2.08 WHIP, .281, 16 ks, 35 walks. Even the Nationals knew they couldn't keep putting Cabrera out there and they're one of the worst teams in the history of baseball. His strikeout to walk ratio is among the all time worst. The WHIP is staggering. Somehow, as bad as he's been, he's still holding opposing hitters to an avearage almost 40 points lower than Wellemeyer.
Closer: Brad Lidge 0-4, 7.03, 18 saves, 1.84 WHIP, 6 blown saves. Come on Brad, pick a side already. He was dominant until Albert Pujols nearly destroyed his career in the 2005 World Series. He was nearly cut, and bounced back to be lights out with the Phillies and win a World Series last year with a sub 2.00 ERA. Now? He looks anything but dominant. I guess that's what you get from another loser Notre Dame graduate.
The American League
Catcher: Dioner Navarro- .223, 5HR, 25 RBI's, .254 OBP. 38 strikeouts, 7 walks in 247 at bats. He was an all-star last year. This year, not so much. Really deserved a shout out in yesterdays tribute to fat baseball players. No way he's 5'9 and 205. No fucking way.
First Base: Chris Davis- .202, 15 HR, 33 RBI's, .256 OBP, 258 at bats: 114 strikeouts, 17 walks. 202, 15 HR, 33 RBI's, .256 OBP, 258 at bats: 114 strikeouts, 17 walks. 202, 15 HR, 33 RBI's, .256 OBP, 258 at bats: 114 strikeouts, 17 walks. .256 OBP. 114 strikeouts. 17 walks. Minor league time.
Second Base: Jose Lopez- .256, 12 HR, 51 RBI's, .287 OBP. 11 errors lead the AL at second base and his .967 fielding percentage is worst. Numbers could be worse. His OBP and defensive stats put him in this place. Matthew Berry predicted sick things for this guy this year. Matthew Berry is Matthew Berry.
Shortstop: Orlando Cabrera- .262, 4 HR, 31 RBI's, .299 OBP. Leading AL in errors and second worst in fielding percentage. A solid guy as long as you're not Edgar Renteria. A great quote. He's an aging shortstop losing range and losing his speed.
Third Base: Adrian Beltre- .259, 5 HR, 31 RBI's, .291 OBP. 48 strikeouts, 11 walks. He's got the third highest number of errors among AL third basemant and is in the bottom half of fielding percentage. Still living off his 2004 season. Extremely overpaid. The excuse that at least he's a great fielder is losing steam pretty fucking fast.
Left Field: Delmon Young- .266, 3HR, 25 RBI's, .292 OBP, 59k's, 6 walks. This guy was the number one pick in the entire draft. He mashed in the minors. Threw a bat at an umpire and got suspended 50 games. Traded for Matt Garza and Jason Barlett. Yeah he's on this list.
Center Field: Vernon Wells- .263, 9HR, 38 RBI's, .312 OBP. Guy can still pay defense. Guy can't really play offense anymore. Meh.
Right Field: Magglio Ordonez- .260, 4HR, 28 RBI's, for nearly $19 million this season. Maybe it's time he cuts his hair.
Designated Hitter: Jason Giambi- .192, 11 HR, 40 RBI's, .331 OBP. 260 at bats, 48 walks, 71 strikeouts. He has 50 hits on the season. He has two more hits than walks. Maybe he needs back The Golden Thong. Giambi and Jack Cust on the same team makes no sense. You think this makes Mark Bellhorn is jealous?
Starting Pitcher: Chien-Ming Wang- 1-6, 9.64 ERA, 2.02 Whip, 29 k's, 19 walks. On the bright side, opponents are only hitting .265 of Wang.
Starting Pitcher- Francisco Liriano, 4-9, 5.47 ERA, 1.49 WhIP. 2006 seems so long ago when he busted on the scene with 12 wins and a sub 2.20 ERA. I know he lost all of 2007 to Tommy John surgery, but by now he should me molding back into form. He's instead headed the wrong way.
Starting Pitcher: Fausto Carmona 2-6, 7.42 ERA, 1.81 WHIP, 36 k's 41, walks. He's almost in Daniel Cabrera territory. Starting pitchers should not have more walks than striekouts. It's not a very good sign. A 7.42 ERA and a 1.81 WHIP aren't very good either. Add a healthy .283 opponents batting average and you're officially having a shitty season. That 19-8, 3.06 ERA season might have been a fluke.
Closer: Kerry Wood, 2-3, 5.28 ERA, 4 blown saves, 1.43 whip, 33 k's to 17 walks. He's certainly not making Indians fans forget about Joe Borowski.
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