Monday, November 30, 2009

Why Favre Is NOT The MVP

Get it? They're both along for the ride?



Sorry, everybody. As much as the media now wants him to be, he's just not. And no, the biggest evidence I have isn't the fact that I'm from Indianapolis.


How do you determine who the Most Valuable Player is, again? Well, I've always understood it as, "If you replace Player X with his backup, how many games would his team win?", or, "Who flat-out does the most for his team, and has the absolute most affect on the gameplan, and how opponents gameplan against him?" Are the answers to both of those questions honestly Brett Favre?


First off, before we slurp every last drop from those 40-year old balls, let's keep in mind the Minnesota Vikings went 10-6 last year with a combination of Tavaris Jackson and Gus Frerotte at starting quarterback. They won their division and made the playoffs, despite Brad Childress's best efforts to thwart those noble hopes and ambitious preseason goals.


So what does that mean? Well, I gather Minnesota traditionally wins with a power running game and good defense. After all, they have Adrian Peterson and Jared Allen on their team, as well as perhaps the best offensive line in football, so that's not a terrible start. Add in Percy Harvin, this year's offensive rookie of the year, whom the immortal Jackson and Frerotte combo obviously did not have the luxury of having. So there's a few more wins, thanks to Harvin's dynamic return game and overall awesomeness alone.

And I understand Sidney Rice is developing into a monster under Favre's wing, but his flashes started last season.


Does this take anything away from Favre's impressive start and gaudy numbers? No, not really. I'm just saying he's not the most valuable player on his own team.


Now let's take a look at the Vikings schedule up to this point:


@ Cleveland, @ Detroit, San Francisco, Green Bay, @ St. Louis, Baltimore, @ Pittsburgh, @ Green Bay, BYE, Detroit, Seattle, Chicago


Talk about some juggernauts! By my estimation, that's five out of a possible eleven games against teams still in the playoff hunt today (San Francisco, Green Bay twice, Baltimore, and Pittsburgh). And I would even argue that two of those teams (SF and Baltimore) suck, the jury's still out on Green Bay (and there was a little something extra, there), and they lost to Pittsburgh.


So if Sage "The Fumbling Helicopter" Rosenfels plays in those games? They beat Cleveland, beat Detroit, and I'll put SF in the loss column (because that was Favre's signature MVP moment so far). They still beat GB at home because Jared Allen sodomized the Pack offensive line, beat the Rams, lose to Baltimore, lose to Pittsburgh, maybe lose at Green Bay, and still win those final three after the bye. That's still a record of 7-4 or 8-3. Sure, it's not 10-1, but it's still good enough to get into the playoffs in the shitty NFC North.


The Colts on the other hand? Without Manning they're 4-7 or, in a really good scenario, 5-6 (you know, since NINE of his eleven were teams currently in the playoff hunt). They're nowhere near 11-0 (let me repeat, 11-0) without him, and it's well-documented they rank second to last in rushing. Tony Dungy and Marvin Harrison morphed into Jim Caldwell, Pierre Garcon, and Austin Collie in the offseason - and they've already clinched the AFC South.

Think of every game-winning drive Manning has led the Colts on this season. Were you even nervous?

Now think of Jim Sorgi.

WHAT'S THE DIFFERENCE?

THE "JARED ALLEN LOOKS LIKE THE KIND OF GUY THAT GETS DRUNK ALONE AND ORDERS TWO PROSTITUTES TO HIS HOUSE AT 2 A.M." AWARD


WHY ATHLETES ARE PROBABLY 83% ASSHOLES


"Squirt that in my mouth, mother fucker. I ain't holdin' it."

(Not necessarily Peterson. I like him. But is there anything more arrogant looking?)

ANYBODY ELSE NOTICE THE SKINNY DOMINO'S GUY'S RACK?

"When you buy a third large, one-topping pizza, I'll throw in the secret behind what's going on in my glands and chromosome region."


"GOD, MANNING! QUIT THROWIN' STUPID FIRST HALF PICKS! WAIT...WHAT DID THAT SAY AT THE BOTTOM? CAN YOU REWIND THAT?"




"YEP, I'M A PROFESSIONAL DEFENSIVE COORDINATOR, AND DESEAN JACKSON WAS LEFT UNCOVERED BY MY ASSIGNED DEFENDERS FOR A TOUCHDOWN, ON NATIONAL TELEVISION, NO LESS"



THE FUTURE OF AMERICAN CURRENCY





Sunday, November 29, 2009

Sports Commercials Just Keep Getting Stranger

PICS OF THE DAY

The Sizemore pics.  Did some girl release these?  Or was he like, "Man, I'm awesome, but I play in Cleveland.  I want "Grady's Ladies" to be comprised of more than just a bunch of fat, pasty Clevelandites"?

I'm glad I'm so into women, otherwise this would be a huge day for me.

VIDEO OF THE DAY



Can someone tell me what the hell is going on in this commercial?  Why is there no music?  Is it for artistic purposes that I can hear his footsteps while he's working out?  And all the elbows?

Saturday, November 28, 2009

For Jordan

PICTURE OF THE DAY


Every coach should have to break out the 90's Starter gear for throwback Sundays.

Speaking of Starter...

VIDEO OF THE DAY


The CEO of Starter just sat up in bed, saying, "What the fuck? We're still in business?" incredulously, picked up his phone, and called Dick's Sporting Goods, cancelling his job interview at 10:30.

Friday, November 27, 2009

The After-Thanksgiving Shits

THE INEVITABLE

Collinsworth: Well, coach, you've won four straight Super Bowls, and some people are starting to talk. Rumors are swirling around the league. They think your brilliance is being caged up by a sport while much more pressing problems exist in the world. Anything else you wanna say on our show, Brad?

Childress: Well, Chris, I appreciate you guys having me on your program tonight, and it is my honor to announce my candidacy for President of the United States for the year 2012.

CHILL-DRISS! CHILL-DRISS! CHILL-DRISS! CHILL-DRISS!

"I don't care if it's 3rd and 12 or 2012, I'm getting the job done."

"The American people made the right decision. I will not disappoint you as your leader, so long as you do not disappoint me."


"Hello, New York. You will be the first American city to abandon the term 'President' Childress. Hence forth, I shall be known as King Childress, or, or, or Lord Childress. Yeah, that sounds good. And you shall be known as 'New Brad City', or better yet, 'Bradhattan'. Actually, let's just make it 'Bradhattan'."


Don't get too excited, St. Vincent and the Grenadines. I just got lazy with my coloring.


"Oh, Bradelona. How you thrive under your leader! Wait! Citizen 38ZB! Did you just snicker? Citizens, tear him limb from limb! I will NOT be ridiculed!"

"Chilbots! Robrads! Destroy!"


AH, THERE'S NOTHING LIKE BOXING

Anyone else like watching dudes with cuts like this? While other guys shove and stick Q-tips in said cuts and make blood drip? If you said yes to both questions, you like boxing.

That leads to this week's...
QUOTES OF THE WEEK

"It's almost as if he has a stick with a...with a bowling ball at the end of it!" ~ Gus Johnson, on Andre Ward, who beat Mikkel Kessler (seen above)

"A home judge referee. How you say?" ~ Kessler, through broken English, after being headbutt(en?) twice, causing the cuts

"I think Daunte Culpepper is trying to revitalilze his career here in Detroit." ~ Troy Aikman

(Other possible quotes for Aikman include, "I think the sun is a ball of gas"; "I think the bucket was an important invention"; and "I think human beings are on to something with this whole 'computer' thing."

"My goodness, he's getting sacked almost every time. The ones that are supposed to be guarding for (Eli) Manning, are they not doing their job?" ~ Louise Hoffa, my 85-year old grandmother

"That's, uh, Boss...er...Champ Bailey." ~ Matt Millen

(Now I know you drafted Boss Bailey and wanted him to develop into even one half the player his brother is, but come on, Matt. Just come on.)

"(Mark) Pope doing a good job on McGrady." ~ Whoever was calling the 2001 Magic-Bucks game I watched last night on NBATV

"I'm going for it on 4th down. We're 2-7, what the fuck difference does it make?" ~ An anonymous Cincinnati Bengals coach from the 90's, on NFL Network's "Worst Teams Ever" show.

(That inspires confidence, right? He wasn't fired, was he? He was? Oh.)

CONVERSATIONS OF THE WEEK

My 12-year old nephew, Ian

Who's that guy?

Me

That's the FOX Robot. Why? You like him?

Ian

No. He's weird.

(I think you're missing your demographic there, FOX)

***

Ian's 9-year old brother, Grahm

What about (JaMarcus) Russell?

Me

He's not the starter anymore.

Grahm

Yeah, that's good.

THE "HEY, JUST BE HAPPY I GOT YOU A CARD" AWARD

Isn't it weird that they make birthday cards that say "Stepdad" or "Stepmom" on it? It's like you're saying, "Hey, I wanted to get you something for your birthday, but I wanted to use this as an opportunity to remind you yet again that you are not, and never will be, my biological parent. Happy birthday!"

Happy Thanksgiving. Hope you're not an idiot out there shopping.

Wednesday, November 25, 2009

I Bet You'll Leave Disappointed

Welcome to FFGP2: PM Edition, home of the man who bets on the Sacramento Kings, a team with 88 combined wins the previous three seasons! Prior to making that prediction, Google Trends had FFGP2 as the 9th most popular search for that particular day. After? I was sandwiched between "Joe Paterno+nude" and Expedia's page dedicated to creating a roundtrip flight from Cleveland to Miami for the week of the Super Bowl. Not a good day.

If anything, you learned a good lesson about the NBA from my stupidity: Never, EVER bet on it. Just don't. You can do all the analysis you want. You can assume some teams are just flat-out better than their opponents. You can find out what refs are doing what games (and look into how many fouls they call, affecting the over/under possibilities). But in the end, it really doesn't matter what you do - you will lose 8 out of 10 times. It's just that crazy of a league. I'm doing extensive research to attempt a possible crack, but it's not looking good.

As I'm typing this, I took the over (200) in the Pacers/Clippers game. Two shitty defensive teams going at it? And they only have to average 100.5 points each? With the scoring this season reaching ABA-levels, I'll gladly take that!

Not even 20 seconds after I placed my bet, Danny Granger was announced as a late scratch, and the two teams have combined to shoot 26% from the field for a combined 31 points through the first quarter. The lesson? If I make a pick on here, go the other way. My luck is to the point where if I adopted a puppy tonight, I'd probably find it dead tomorrow morning.

THE WORLD'S WORST "FAN"

Yep, I've found him (or them, actually). The most annoying, despicable kind of fan out there. And I have two examples:

A) I watched one of the Penguins-Red Wings Stanley Cup games last summer at one of my good friend's house, and he invited one of his friends (whom I hadn't had the displeasure of meeting before this particular night) over to watch the game as well. Now, my father is originally from Washington, Pennsylvania, a town about 20 minutes outside of Pittsburgh, so I grew up rooting for the Lemieux-Jagr Pens teams of the early 90's. I love Crosby and would spoon with Evgeni Malkin next to a fireplace if asked. In other words, I follow them. They are one of my favorite teams, and have been my whole life. Them winning the Stanley Cup is a big, big deal to me.

So this guy that comes over? Knows nothing about the NHL (in other words, he's a normal American). He knows it's mostly white guys and they play on ice, basically. So he's just an unbiased guy quietly watching the game with us, right?

Wrong. He's ANNOYINGLY (and very, very openly) rooting for the Red Wings. "Come on, Detroit!" "Let's go, Wings!" He's even saying stupid things like, "Yes!" and exhaling when Osgood would make a save. Saying things like, "Hurt him!" when Crosby's skating by the boards. So I say, "Dude, can you name one player on the Red Wings? Just one?" He couldn't. "Then shut up. This is a big deal to me," I say. Needless to say, it was an awkward first and last encounter.

Lick my butt and suck on my balls.


B) This one, however, doesn't have as easy of an exit. My mom's new boyfriend came over one Saturday when I happened to be there (whenever that Penn State-Michigan game was, and when Notre Dame used to field a football team). Now, this guy doesn't follow football that much. He really has no allegiances. So what does he do? Sits down on the couch, finds out who I'm rooting for, and openly roots for the other teams.

I guess I know which relationship to root against.

LEBRON'S NUMBER

Me

Hey, LeBron! I heard you want to retire the number 23?

LeBron

Yeah. I just think we should all honor MJ and the impression he made on this league.

Me

Well, I hated that you ever picked 23 in the first place, but I guess that's cool that you're coming around. What number do you want?

LeBron

Six. Something about my kids' birthdays and my Olympic number and...

Me

Six? So you want to retire Jordan's number because everything he did for the game, but you want Bill Russell's number? A guy who couldn't stay at the same hotels and eat at the same restaurants as his white teammates, but pushed through and eventually won 11 titles, and was the first black player/coach? Or Dr. J's number, the guy who Jordan stole many of his moves from? The guy who practically invented the phrase "above the rim"? You want those guys' numbers?

LeBron

Stop trying to prove a point on your bullshit website. I'm a super-duper-duper-duper star. You've sat around and bet on the Pacers and Clippers to get 200 points. Shut your mouth.

Me

Yes, Mr. James.

FORMAL APOLOGY

I'll be the first person to tell you today was half-assed. One picture (and it's hockey) and no videos. Nothing entertaining really at all. I ate at Qdoba for lunch today, took a shit, wiped, looked at the toilet paper before throwing it in the bowl, and it was this piece. I'll have something better later this week. Promise.

Tuesday, November 24, 2009

Fantasy, Psychics, and Swine Flu

I told myself I would never do it.

I forced myself to promise it would never be mentioned here, reserving this sacred Blogger real estate for hairy chested, manly men speak only. The other "men" (radio hosts, dorks, Eric Karabell) who speak publicly of it only come off as dateless losers, ninnies who cherish numbers over wins. Guys who feel up the Sports Illustrated Almanac at drive-in movie theaters. I would not sink that low.

And yet, here I am. About to dissect fantasy football.


The Christ is a must-draft, especially in point-per-reception leagues.


Let's get something out of the way right now: I HATE fantasy football. With a passion, actually. After last season, I was done. I didn't want to spend an extra minute of my time overthinking, overmanaging, etc. something so random and ultimately meaningless. I wanted to sit back, relax, and just enjoy the season, feeding whatever extracuricular urge I had with gambling. Unfortunately for me, training camps started to open, football fever infected my brain, and my friends talked me back in. And I will never forgive them.

You know where fantasy football falls short? It doesn't mean anything, and nowhere near measures how good a football player is or isn't. I hate to break it to the apologists, but do you know how to calculate whether or not a player had a good game? (Hint: It has nothing to do with points per reception.) You actually, what's that called again? Oh yeah. You watch the games.

Two weeks ago against the Packers, Dallas wide receiver Roy Williams played like shit. He was awful. He dropped more balls than puberty. You know how I know? I watched the game.

In fantasy? Roy Williams was awesome. 5 catches, 105 yards, and a touchdown. (Most of it in garbage time when the Packers were way up and the Cowboys were just trying to avoid being shut out.) That's good for 14 points in my league (a point for each reception, a point for every 20 yards, and six for the touchdown). 14 points for someone who played the way Eric Stoltz looked in MASK.



Conversely, Philip Rivers (as usual) was great last weekend against Denver. A 109.1 QB rating, 77% completion percentage (17 of 22!), no interceptions, and, most importantly, a win. He was the definition of efficient, and everything you would want from your franchise quarterback.

So how did he do in fantasy? Eight points. Eight. He only had 145 yards and one touchdown. The Chargers' gameplan was to run all over the Broncos, which they did to the tune of 203 yards. Norv and the gang obviously didn't bother worrying about Pip's fantasy owners, because they wanted to, you know, win. And Norv needs his wins these days.

So what does this all mean? Well, it means this: It's a crapshoot. It takes relatively no skill, other than the draft (where most people get drunk or high anyway, and end up trading every guy they have three times over during the season). Baseball, basketball, and hockey are long, long seasons. You have to keep up with it. You have to dedicate yourself to it. And, in the end, it evens itself out. Football doesn't. Check this out:


Team #1


QB - Brady Quinn

WR - Mario Manningham

WR - Nate Burleson

RB - Jason Snelling

RB - Ricky Williams

TE - Kevin Boss

K - Billy Cundiff

DEF - Kansas City




Team #2

QB - Peyton Manning

WR - Larry Fitzgerald

WR - Roddy White

RB - Adrian Peterson

RB - Maurice Jones-Drew

TE - Dallas Clark

K - Stephen Gostkowski

DEF - Pittsburgh


Guess what? Team #1 would have won last Sunday.


And I know, you still have to play the games. The Pats went 18-0 two years ago and lost in the Super Bowl. The best players don't always win. But the thing is: You're not physically playing. You're going based on names, and I know for a fact I would have been LIVID had I lost to those punks.

So where's the fun in that?

Fantasy football makes diehard Colts fans like me root for Randy Moss. They make Patriot fans root for Reggie Wayne. They make Chief fans root for Bruce Gradkowski. (One of those is a joke.) And ultimately, will they skew what we remember? Will the legion of fantasy footballers argue in the future that Roy Williams was better than Hines Ward? That Larry Johnson had a more successful overall career than Kevin Faulk?

(Oh, and by the way, fellas? Women are catching on to fantasy football. I've heard a few talking about playing it this year, and a few more say they can't wait to join one next year. It reeks of "Now I can jump in conversations with guys, and be the cool girl that plays!" Yep, they want to take that away from you, too. Get out now while you can. You've been warned.)

Don't get me wrong, I get it. The comraderie of fantasy football is great. It's a fantastic way to keep in touch with a group of guys and just shit-talk.

Just don't take the results too seriously. Unless I win. Then it's legit.


A CONVERSATION I JUST HAD


So a guy in a wheelchair (who had obviously been in some sort of accident) came up to me just now. Literally just a few seconds ago. Here's what transpired:


Him

You know what year I was born in? 1972. '72. You know who's football number that was?

Me (Noticeably thrown off-guard)

Him

That's right!

He then proceeded to talk about shooting hoops with Greg Graham back in the day and left. You know, just a normal conversation.

HOW TO CONVINCE NON-SPORTS FANS (OR PEOPLE THAT DON'T WATCH TITANS GAMES) THAT YOU ARE A PSYCHIC

1. Wait for a 3rd down in a Tennessee Titans game, preferably between a 3rd and 4 and a 3rd and 7, when the Titans have the ball.

2. Put your index fingers on your temples and close your eyes.

3. Dramatically open your eyes, like something of great importance was just delivered to you telepathically.

4. Say, "I see...I see Vince Young in the shotgun. He's...he's dropping back to pass, but he's not going to pass. He's going to look like he's going to pass. Then, he's going to, in a manner that looks a lot slower than it really is, run by two to three guys before getting out of bounds just past the first down marker."

5. Bask in the pseudo-supernatural glory.

HOW TO CONVINCE NON-SPORTS FANS (OR PEOPLE THAT DON'T WATCH TEXANS GAMES) THAT YOU ARE A PSYCHIC

1. Wait for kicker Kris Brown to run on the field.

2. Put your index fingers on your temples and close your eyes.

3. Dramatically open your eyes, like something of great importance was just delivered to you telepathically.

4. Say, "Kris Brown will miss this kick wide ri...no...wide left, followed by The Kubester (Houston coach Gary Kubiak) angrily throwing his headset in disgust."

5. Say, "Following the game, The Kubester will go to a local soup kitchen to personally witness the pathetic state of the homeless, and even volunteer his time. He will then say things like, 'Ya hungry? I bet you are' and 'You probably need this food to live, don't ya, ya bastard?' before throwing away perfectly edible food, all the while coldly staring in their faces and laughing dastardly." (Optional)

6. Bask in the pseudo-supernatural glory.

***

Not that it really matters, but I've fixed the comment section, so now anyone can comment, not just Google members, and I'm also trying to write the longest sentence in the world using only commas as punctuation, and I might have the fucking swine flu because someone casually mentioned having it that I've hung out with lately (and shared a pizza with), so you might be in luck as far as future material, because I'll have nothing but horrible free time on my hands! Thanks-fucking-giving!

Monday, November 23, 2009

Shitberg, Right Ahead!

Alright, so I was a little off. I thought this game would be a lot easier. But come on! I said the Colts would win by nine. If they score a touchdown there at the end, they win by exactly nine.

And if the queen had a dick, she'd be king.

What are you doing listening to my advice about anything, anyway? Remember, I'm the guy that looked deep into Jake Delhomme's baby browns and said, "Give me the Panthers for $500."

Speaking of Jake Delhomme and taking a shit, has anyone seen the NFL schedule for next Sunday? It makes me want to see what my grandma is doing that day. Perhaps a Game Show Network marathon is in the cards for me, and I recommend you do the same.

PICS OF THE WEEK
Wade Phillips: The King of Bullshit Celebrations. I love how he acted like such a hardass after Washington's kicker missed a potential game-winning field goal (the second time he's done this while escaping this season). He's made a living off this sort of thing. Does he realize a game with a bottom-5 team came down to that, and that his offense only scored 7 points? And a combined 14 for the last two weeks? I can't wait until he's fumbling over the teleprompter on CBS in two years.

Hey, uh, New York Post? I think your, uh, your graphics guy typed in "cum" instead of "tears" for your Rex Ryan crying parody. Just a thought. Where have I seen this before?


Ahhhh, there it is.

Wizard of Oz Casting Director: Alright, who's the next guy auditioning?

Assistant: His name is Bill Sherman. He's a fine young actor from NYU.

Wizard of Oz Casting Director: Is he gay? Remember, I said I only want gay actors and actresses in this film. I want it to be very noticeable to future generations watching.

Assistant: You got it, sir. Gay it is.

Yeah, I know. Harrington's been out of the league for two years now, so this picture is about as relevant as a Mark Chmura post-prom party joke. I just think it's hilarious.

And now for a new game sweeping the nation...
"LET'S DISSECT THE AUDIENCE OF THE BLUE COLLAR COMEDY TOUR!"
(I know, I know. It was a slow Sunday)

My favorite thing about this picture (other than imagining this guy opening up a present Christmas morning, turning to his wife, and saying, "Would Larry the Cable Guy wear this? Sharon! You look me in the goddamn eye! Would Larry the Cable Guy wear this? No! He wouldn't! So take the fuckin' thing back.") is the CMT HD logo at the bottom. CMT: Where you can now see ugly people clearer!

"We have worse teeth!"

"No! We do!"

This reminds me: I went to the dentist last week, and I have an abnormal jaw. It's been sore for a while, and my dentist took some X-rays and it turns out my lower jaw is big and my upper jaw is small. It's honestly like you took two different ones and put them together. Because of this, I have the "straightest wisdom teeth they've ever seen." Um...thanks? So here were my options:

Option A: Have reconstructive face/jaw surgery. It works like a knee operation, where they would cut my skin open and move my jaw around until it fits with their hands. This would be followed by braces. Other people who have had it? "Um, some have had pretty good results."

Option B: Live with slight, slight, slight, slight, slight jaw discomfort for the rest of my life, and sometimes I go weeks without even noticing it.

Can anyone help me? It's such a tough decision.

What's so funny about this guy in the blue hat, you ask? Nothing, really. I'm laughing at Brad Childress laughing his dick off to the right.

Game within a game: Where's 1986 Indianapolis 500 winner Bobby Rahal?

Did you find him?

Good job!


Somebody that looks like Dale Earnhardt getting into redneck jokes? So much so that he's whooping and doing the Arsenio arm motion? I won't believe it. Doesn't the guy up and to the right look like Dustin Diamond?



This is where I would have been sitting: The "Not Amused by Ron White" section. The guy in the front with his arms crossed looks like he's saying, "Come on, mother fucker. Make me laugh. Make me forget the fact that the woman sitting to my right is my wife, and that my daughter is fucking a colored boy." Maybe that private detective in the shades could help him out in some way.

My favorite guy: The "Hey, I do that! That's me! That's just like me! I relate to what the observational comedian is saying!" And the wife's, "Oh, that's my husband! That is you! That is so you!" Aren't you regretting clicking on this link today?

Game within a game part two: Watching a gruesome murder that they had a hand in, or enjoying stand-up comedy?

Or...


Well, the one on the right is watching someone die that she cares about. Not so with the sick fuck on the left.



Inbred Michael Cera, would you mind sitting between a man with a peculiarly shaped head and Redneck Chris Benoit? What if we put the only thing even resembling a slightly attractive (by our standards, of course) girl behind you?

I don't know what's funnier: Unamused Fred Krueger, or the guy sitting next to him watching a female disrobe for the first time.

Shhhh, young Kornheiser is sleeping.

College-aged Dennis Green! What are you doing here?


I knew he was doing something other than gameplanning for UConn...

Paterno doesn't know whether to laugh or be disgusted by his wife's laughter.

TONIGHT'S PICK THAT YOU SHOULD LIGHT ON FIRE

Betting on the NBA is a crapshoot. Don't do it. With that said, the Memphis Grizzlies have lost 8 of their last 9 games, and have given up or gotten 100 points in seven of those games. The Sacramento Kings have the emerging Jason Thompson, and have scored over 100 points in every single game except one so far this year, including an 11 point win over the Grizz just 21 days ago. For some reason, the Grizzlies are favored by 5.

My bet of the night? The Sacramento Kings and the over.

Yes, I know. They're one of the worst teams in the league. But hey, it makes this shitfest a little more interesting, right?

P.S.

Did you really think I put $500 on Jake Delhomme? I really hope not.

COMING LATER THIS WEEK...

A truly bizarre video from Fox's Sunday pregame show, and a fantastically fun new game (one that involves sports - I promise - that even makes women laugh)

Saturday, November 21, 2009

Quote of the Night!

"When you have a guy as talented as him, sometimes your best coaching on the offensive end of the floor is staying out of his way." ~ Mike Brown, HEAD coach of the Cleveland Cavaliers, on super-duper-star LeBron James

Friday, November 20, 2009

Jake Delhomme Crying

Why the long face, Jake? After all, I'm the one that inexplicably bet on you to win a professional football game last night.

Don't ever let anyone tell you that sports make sense. They don't, and they never will.

Last night fully buttfucked that point in to me, as two bizarre things happened in two different sports. Let's take the NFL first. The Carolina Panthers had been playing decent as of late (you know, on the Delhomme Curve), bludgeoning hot Arizona at their place, hanging tough and ultimately letting a victory slip away against juggernaut New Orleans, and then hammering schizophrenic Atlanta. Even the stats geeks at Football Outsiders were kinda, sorta starting to believe in their improvement.

Now take their opponents, the Miami Dolphins. They had just lost their best offensive player (Ronnie Brown) for the remainder of the season. Their "best" wide receiver (Ted Ginn, Jr.) is featured in a commercial where they show him leaping to make a spectacular catch, only they edit it before he comes down. Why would they do that, you ask? Oh yeah, that's right. I was watching that game. He dropped the ball.



After a few stinkbombs (one against dreadful Tampa Bay) their quarterback Chad Henne apparently got a talkin' to from Bill Parcells, in which something along the lines of "look, if you don't play better, you won't play in the NFL" happened.

(Another thing with Henne: I haven't seen it as much in the pros, but when he was in college, he would always have this goofy smile on his face after incompletions, which would have enraged me if I didn't hate Michigan football so much. Hell, it still enraged me.)

"I know I just overthrew my receiver by eight yards on a crucial third down, but you'll have to admit, going your whole career without beating Ohio State once is pretty hilarious."

So naturally, I took the Panthers and the under. So what happened? Ricky Williams (you know, the guy who took a year off to smoke pot) scored three TD's and the Dolphins won the game. Ohhhhhhhhhhhhkay. So much for trends.

(One thing that is funny: You know how when you start to type something into Google, they always try to finish your phrase to make it easier on you? So you don't have to type as much? When you type "Jake Delhomme" into Google Images three things pop up: "Jake Delhomme crying"; "Jake Delhomme wife"; and "Jake Delhomme interception". Jake Delhomme crying?? I'm going to go on a limb and say he's a subpar quarterback.)

Now to the NBA. High scoring Phoenix went to New Orleans, who just lost their best player (Chris Paul) to injury and just recently fired their coach. Tim Floyd is their assistant coach, for Christ's sake. Should be a romp, right? Wrong. New Orleans by seven.

Being an oddsmaker must be like printing money.

***

Speaking of things that make no sense, this was originally going to be the spot where I bragged about going to see LeBron tonight. Cleveland is in town to play the Pacers, so I got online today to get myself and a friend a ticket. I wanted two $28 tickets. So let's do the math:

28 + 28 = 56 (My math)

28 + 28 = 81 (Ticketmaster's math)

Now I know everybody's familiar with Ticketmaster's bullshit policies, but really? You're tagging THAT much on now for your bullshit service charges? And it's an additional $2.50 to print off your own ticket! So I called the box office:

Me: Hi, I'd like to buy two $28 to the game tonight, please.

Ticket Guy: Sorry. You can't buy tickets over the phone. You have to go online through Ticketmaster or come to the box office.

Me: Yeah, I was trying to get around all those vague service fees.

Ticket Guy: Sorry.

Gee. Thanks. So then a few hours goes by, and I'm wondering if I can wait until I get off work to run over there. So I call again:

Me: Hi, I was just wondering how many more $28 tickets are still available to tonight's game.

Ticket Lady: I don't know.

(At this point I'm waiting for a follow-up check, or ANYTHING. Maybe typing? I'm even waiting to hear breathing at this point)

Me: Um, hello?

Ticket Lady: I don't know, sir. I don't know how many are left. I can't check. I don't think too many.

Wow, thanks Conseco Fieldhouse box office! I know the economy's hurting, and people want to lay off workers. Well now I have a good goddamn idea where they can start. So that leads to this fictional call with a Ticketmaster rep:

Me
: Hi, I was just wondering why you charge so much for service fees. It doesn't even say what they're for, and there's another one when you check out, so you're actually double-taxing me for something when I'm actually doing all the work myself. Can you explain these fees?

Ticketmaster
: Well...they're...um...they're charges for the...you know...the, uh, the service.

Me
: But there is no service. I'm picking my seat. I'm typing my credit card number in. And on top of all that, I'm printing my own ticket off. What exactly are you doing to deserve one cent from me?

Ticketmaster
: Um...well...it's, uh...it's...have a great time at the game, sir!

Me
: Fuck you.

Ticketmaster
: Have a nice Thanksgiving, sir.

ALLEGED QUOTES OF THE WEEK

"I dropped a pass and (Mangino) was mad. And I said, 'Yes, sir. Yes, sir.' The yelling didn't bother me. But then he said, 'Shut up!' He said, 'If you don't shut up, I'm going to send you back to St. Louis so you can get shot with your homies.'" ~ Raymond Brown, former Kansas wide receiver, about Kansas head coach Mark Mangino

"One day, (Mangino) said in front of the entire team, 'Are you going to be a lawyer or do you want to become an alcoholic like your dad?'" ~ Brown, about Mangino again

"He told me he'd send me back to Oakland where I could be drinking out of a brown paper bag. He told me, 'You were a shit friend to someone I knew that passed away.' He called me a bum. He showed me no respect. He told me he'd send me back to the ghetto." ~ Joe Mortensen, former Kansas linebacker, about Mangino

Another story was that a player fell asleep during a team meeting and woke up on the floor because Mangino pushed him. While on the floor, Mangino kicked him, then violently shook him when he got up.
Unreal. You have to keep up with this.

***
Wait a minute. Was I trying to prove a point that sports don't make sense by using Jake Delhomme losing, a 35 year old white guy point guard losing, and Ticketmaster's service charge policy? Ouch. No wonder I don't get paid to write this.

Thursday, November 19, 2009

Damn, I Wish I Was Your Lover / I'd Rock You 'Til The Daylight Comes / Make Sure You Are Smiling And Warm

Tim Tebow: Coach, that, um, that 4th and goal QB draw you called? The one that won the game? I've...I've never had a coach call anything that bold before. It really...well...it really showed how much confidence you have in me. It really felt good.

Urban Meyer: I wouldn't have called it if anyone else was under center, Tim. Those powerful legs. I guess...well...I guess we just make a good team.

Tebow: I think we make a great team.

Meyer: Hey, Tim?

Tebow: Yeah, coach?

Meyer: Nah, forget it.

Tebow: No. If you want something...anything...you just say the word. I'd lay down in traffic for you, coach. And you never know. Maybe I'd like to do whatever it is you're going to ask.

Meyer: Well, there's this dance tonight, and, you know, I'm sure the administration would frown on the coach taking a player, but...well...do you think you'd...

Tebow: I'd love to go with you, coach. I'd love to go with you.

Meyer: (Nervous laughter) I didn't even have to ask.

Tebow: This dance sure is something, huh?

Meyer: Jesus, Timmy. Your eyes are like goddamn emeralds. They remind me of the grass I used to play on as a kid, back when it was just a game. Back when it was just fun, you know?

Tebow: It's still fun, coach.

Meyer: It's fun with you, Tim. It's fun with you. I don't know what I'm gonna do when you graduate. I really don't. Back to my house. Back to my wife. Back to...

Tebow: Let's not think about that right now, coach. There's still a lot of unfinished business to attend to.

("Save Tonight" by Eagle Eye Cherry starts playing)

Meyer: I didn't leave Utah to sit down during this song. Take my hand, Tim. I'm calling a QB sneak.


Tebow: Eagle Eye sure knew what he was talking about. I wish we could save...

Meyer: It'll always be in our memories, Tim. We'll always have Gainesville. We'll always have this night.

("Lullaby" by Shawn Mullins starts playing)

Tebow: What do you know? A slow song.

Meyer: What if the AD sees? What if...

Tebow: Let them see. I don't even care.

Tebow: It's been a great four years, coach.

Meyer: It sure has, Tim. It sure has.


Meyer: (Whispering) Let's get out of here.