Deadspin

Poon For Everybody! [Duan!]

Weed Against Speed — Sat, 14 Nov 2009 18:55:31 -0500

Missouri fans who made the trip to Manhattan, Kansas to watch their Tigers trash Kansas State 38-12 decided to honor the team's victory by holding up letters to spell out "POON." Although I'm a bit confused by the extraneous "O."

Well folks, that does it for me. I hope you were informed as well as entertained today. Sure, there was a bump in the road (what a woodead I am), but I believe things went reasonably well overall. In the end, I suppose that's where hope gets you. Learn from me, kids.

Thank you for your continued support of Deadspin. Barry Petchesky has got your back tomorrow.

Have a great evening. Remember, nothin' lasts forever, even cold November rain. Well, except for this video. Nine minutes? Sheesh. Axl Rose, you maniacal egomaniac!

(thanks to DS reader Merle for the screencap)

Stephon Marbury Continues To Turn Craziness Into An Art Form [Stephon Marbury]

Weed Against Speed — Sat, 14 Nov 2009 18:15:50 -0500

I'm no genius, but it seems to me that Marbury isn't a huge fan of Knicks coach Mike D'Antoni. In a tweet one would suspect were the rantings of a clinically insane individual, Marbury calls the coach "DPHONY." Nice. [SimonOnSports]

Timberwolves GM Wants Fans To Know He Is Aware Of How Much Team Sucks [Nba]

Weed Against Speed — Sat, 14 Nov 2009 17:30:24 -0500

Mired in a nine-game slide, the Timberwolves are struggling to get acclimated to Kurt Rambis' triangle offense. Further, the team stinks. So, GM David Kahn did the only sensible thing - he wrote a letter to the team's 10 fans.

Kahn provided the letter to the Timberwolves blog, On the Wolves, for dissemination. The new general manager for the T-Wolves wants the fans to know he is not happy about the way the season has started and he will not accept it, nor will he give up. In fact, he's just going to dedicate himself even more to attempting to correct the team's shortcomings.

At times like these, I am motivated to work harder. I want to scout more, watch more film, crunch more numbers, ask more questions. I know Kurt and the coaching staff feel the same. The coaches are the strength of our ballclub right now – I am proud to be working with them. We all recognized when we signed up for this mission that it takes a Herculean effort, from all corners, to turn around a franchise and make it championship-caliber.

I understand that it should be considered refreshing that a general manager would choose to be up front and honest with a team's fans, and that a proactive approach such as this should be applauded. On other other hand, it has all the appearances of an act of desperation by an already beleaguered GM only 10 games into the season.

But who knows? Maybe Kahn can turn the crappy franchise around - as former Timberwolves star KG once said, "ANYTHING IS POSSIBLE!!!"

But seriously, it aint going to happen.

From David Kahn [On the Wolves]

This Guy Is Trying To Steal John Daly's Bit [Whimsy]

Weed Against Speed — Sat, 14 Nov 2009 16:40:21 -0500

And no, I'm not referring to Udorn Duangdecha getting his stomach stapled and surviving solely on Diet Coke and cigarettes - check out those slacks. Crap, they're so loud that Marlee Matlin heard him trying them on. [Devil Ball Golf]

Your Late Afternoon College Football Viewing Open Thread [Open Thread]

Weed Against Speed — Sat, 14 Nov 2009 16:05:19 -0500

It's time for the second round of games on this wonderful Saturday afternoon. There's plenty of options on the telly, with Florida at South Carolina as perhaps the most intriguing. Can you imagine how excited these girls are right now?

Joe Torre Is Happy For The Yankees - No, Really [Joe Torre]

Weed Against Speed — Sat, 14 Nov 2009 15:30:42 -0500

Given his acrimonious exit as Yankees manager, one would suspect that Joe Torre would be a bit bitter about the Yankees winning the World Series. Nope. Not at all. In fact, he's as pleased as punch - or something.

Torre, who described watching the Yankees in Fall Classic as "surreal," is tickled pink that the Yankees won the World Series. He is especially happy for Alex Rodriguez and manager Joe Girardi.

"To watch what they've done, especially with Joe Girardi at the helm, it really made me feel good," Torre said. "Even though I am supposed to be a National League fan, when you're as close to these guys as I've been all these years, well, I was just really pleased for them."

I don't know, I'm not buying it. Wouldn't it make more sense for Torre to be resentful about the Yankees pulling it off without him at the helm? On the other hand, perhaps all that yoga and New Age bullcrap Torre is into now that he lives in Los Angeles allows him to look at it from a more positive perspective. What do you mean Torre is probably not into yoga? That State Farm commercial was totally real, right?

Joe Torre: Watching Joe Girardi, Yankees win World Series was 'surreal' [New York Daily News]

I Bet The Graphics Guy Who Cropped Indiana's Logo This Way Feels Like A Boob [Whimsy]

Weed Against Speed — Sat, 14 Nov 2009 14:50:39 -0500

Heh. Tit. And for those of you worried about this warping our young people, it has already been changed to a less-offensive image. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to make "BOOBLESS" appear on my calculator. (Thanks, reader Josh)

CFL Player Gets Stabbed After Attending KISS Concert (Updated) [Cfl]

Weed Against Speed — Sat, 14 Nov 2009 14:10:37 -0500

Calgary Stampeders tight end Teyo Johnson got stabbed at a party Thursday night after he went to a ~~KISS~~ concert. Apparently, it has been learned that it was a DJ Tiesto concert - not KISS. Same difference, right? [TSN]

It's Too Bad The Title 'Psycho' Was Already Taken [Ron Artest]

Weed Against Speed — Sat, 14 Nov 2009 13:25:05 -0500

So, Ron Artest is making a movie about his life. That's...um, interesting.

In an interview with FanHouse on Friday, Artest announced he is making a straight-to-DVD movie entitled Therapy, which I assume chronicles his rise from poor kid growing up in the projects of Queens to batshit crazy NBA player.

Surprisingly, the "Malice in at the Palace" will have its five-year anniversary Thursday- it seems like it happened longer ago - but Artest states that the fracas will only be a small part of the film.

"I didn't even realize it was the fifth-year anniversary,'' Artest said. "I'm actually working on a movie about it. It's going to be pretty cool... It's like a docudrama. I'm playing me. (The brawl) is like a small part, but it's a part of it... It's to just kind of spice up the movie a little bit, but (the movie) is deeper than that. It's all true.''

Wow. Artest claims he has a silent partner who is funding the project and he expects the film to be released next summer.

I can confidently state that there is a good chance that Therapy will be the worst movie ever made. I haven't been this excited about a straight-to-DVD release since Road House 2.

Brawl Will 'Spice Up' Movie About Artest [FanHouse]

To Be Fair, Jesus Was Fiercely Anti-Merkin [Whimsy]

Weed Against Speed — Sat, 14 Nov 2009 12:40:53 -0500

Okay, one more Jesus-related post today. In anticipation of College Gameday's appearance in Fort Worth today for the TCU-Utah tilt, one clever TCU fan decided to make it known Lee Corso's long-running feud with the King of Kings. [myFOXdfw]

Your Early Afternoon College Football Viewing Open Thread [Open Thread]

Weed Against Speed — Sat, 14 Nov 2009 12:15:47 -0500

You got Tennessee-Ole Miss on CBS. Go forth and watch collegiate football. Drink beer if you wish. Try to avoid getting arrested.

Chad Ochocinco Fined Veinte Mil Dólares By Liga Nacional de Fútbol Americano [Nfl]

Weed Against Speed — Sat, 14 Nov 2009 11:25:30 -0500

¡Ay, caramba! Cincinnati Bengals wide receiver/prop comic Chad Ochocinco has been fined $20,000 by the NFL for jokingly attempting to bribe an official with a dollar bill during last Sunday's game against the Baltimore Ravens.

In a letter to Ochocinco, Ray Anderson, the No Fun League's executive vice president of football operations, stated that "[t]he very appearance of impropriety is not acceptable. Your conduct was unprofessional and unbecoming an NFL Player."

Fair enough. But no matter which side of the argument you find yourself on whether or not he should have been fined, you have to give Ochocinco some credit for creativity. Still, Bengals head coach Marvin Lewis approves of the message the NFL is sending with the fine:

"I think as I told Chad when I heard what occurred, you don't fool with the integrity of the game in the NFL. We're not WWE and so forth. This is a serious game for serious people. He realizes he made a very big error in judgment and is sorry for it. From the league's standpoint, they can't have any copycat deal so they made a pretty firm statement."

The WWE? Is that...is that Chad Ochocinco's music??

Chad Ochocinco fined $20,000 for $1 prank [The Cincinnati Enquirer]

Rick Nash Is A Fancy Boy [Nhl]

Weed Against Speed — Sat, 14 Nov 2009 10:35:37 -0500

I haven't seen a hockey player make a move this fabulous since D.B. Sweeney's one-footed salchow in The Cutting Edge.

Columbus Blue Jackets forward (and NHL2K9 coverboy) Rick Nash went with an unorthodox move in last night's 3-2 shootout victory over the Anaheim ~~Mighty~~ Ducks. As he approached Franco-Canadianophile goaltender Jean-Sébastien Giguère, Nash lifted up his left leg and apparently that was enough to completely baffle Giguère since Nash easily snuck the puck in the corner of the net.

It was an inspiring victory for the Blue Jackets, as they responded nicely and appeared no worse for wear after getting thumped 9-1 by the Detroit Red Wings on Wednesday. And if you're not a keen hockey mind like myself, you should know that nine goals in one game is like, a lot of goals.

Columbus 3, Anaheim 2 (SO): Jackets climb out of their rut [The Columbus Dispatch]

That's Nice And All, But I Heard Jesus Hates Them [Wake Up Deadspin]

Weed Against Speed — Sat, 14 Nov 2009 09:40:18 -0500

Got an image you'd like to see in here first thing in the morning? Send it to tips@deadspin.com. Subject: Morning crap.

While it may be true that God still loves the Redskins (photo courtesy of Mr. Irrelevant), the big J-Man (I call Jesus "J-Man" - he's cool about it) took Clinton Portis in the first round of his fantasy football draft. If you could only hear how much shit Buddha gives him about it.

Nevertheless, it's comforting to know that even at our lowest points, God will always be there - not for Dan Snyder, of course. The Holy Father can't stand that sanctimonious pipsqueak and hasn't had much time for him since the Redskins owner started hanging out with all of those damn Scientologists.

Alrighty, this concludes our deity-inspired dialogue for the day. Now you don't have to go to church tomorrow. You can thank me later.

Tell me, tell me what you're after, I just want to get there faster.

No, I'm Fairly Certain God Actually Hates Us and the Redskins [Mr. Irrelevant]

And Now A Selection From Tim McCarver's "Great American Songbook" Remixed [Duan!]

DAULERIO — Fri, 13 Nov 2009 18:00:40 -0500

During the MLB playoffs, Fox baseball analyst extraordinaire Tim McCarver released a CD of him crooning through jaunty Cole Porter-style songs without a smidge of irony. We had grand plans for this. Some fell through, but one miraculously worked out.

The first idea we had was to recruit some well-known music writers to see what happened to their ear drums after a couple of spins. Craggs had Greil Marcus lined up, but he backed off. Chuck Klosterman was also intrigued by the idea, but was bogged down in other projects.

So, second plan — find a producer to remix one of these McCarver tracks and modernize it a bit. Luckily, a fine gentleman at Sony music answered the call and passed along the McCarverized version of an old Richard Rodgers ditty from 1937 called "I Wish I Were In Love Again" to someone he knew. Here's Tim's version.

Now, here's a remixed version done by an up-and-coming producer from North Carolina named A-Styles, who recently did some tracks for the Ying Yang Twins including this catchy little number called "Wild Out". With his help, he's transformed McCarver's version from dewy swing into dirty souf trip-hop.

Thanks for your continued support of Deadspin. Your editor tomorrow is TBD, for now. Sunday, Barry P.

No more pain.

Video: Mike Byhoff

Hockey Player's Attempted Murder Conviction Just A Hilarious Case Of Mistaken Identity [Nhl]

Dashiell Bennett — Fri, 13 Nov 2009 17:45:02 -0500

Sportsnet.ca has an epic interview with fresh-out-of-prison former Blues player Mike Danton, who says he didn't hire an assassin to kill his former coach/mentor, David Frost. He was really trying to kill his father. Totally different situation! [Sportsnet, via RiverfrontTimes]

The Louts Will Rise Again [Race]

Tommy Craggs — Fri, 13 Nov 2009 16:30:53 -0500

This swaying stereotype called Michael, apparently an Ole Miss frat creature, has some thoughts on that controversial "South will rise again" chant. It takes him precisely 10 seconds to say the magic phrase. Hint: It's not pro scientia et sapientia.

Night Of The Living Customized Jerseys [Whimsy]

Dashiell Bennett — Fri, 13 Nov 2009 15:40:18 -0500

They're back. As long as people continue to waste money on customized sports clothing we will continue to celebrate whatever it is they're trying to accomplish. It's not a choice ... it's a lifestyle.

In this edition, a tribute to Koko the Monkey, more bad duct tape, boozehounds, straight pimpage and, as usual, lots of lovable fat guys. If you see more custom greatness out there, send the (good) pictures with the subject: "Custom Jersey." And if you missed our previous renditions of the series, here are the links.

Part I
Part II
Part III

For all the people about to leave a disparaging comment ... he's talking to you. [Submitted by Rael]
Okay, this is ridiculous. "Be alert for bats"? Unless Rico from Staten Island is about to club him from behind with a Louisville Slugger, I think he's safe. [Submitted by E. Blum @ Yankee Stadium]
Still the best Blue Jackets player of all time. [Submitted by Ben S.]
In all fairness to this guy, I'm sure he did not make this himself, but rather pulled it out of a fake can stuffed inside a 30-pack. [Submitted by Paul S.]
It's not "zero zero." It's "oo." [Submitted by Zain I.]
As in ... "oo ooh ah ahh." [Submitted by Ben D.]
Mike O., please.
I'm really starting to think that some people don't like Brett Favre. [Submitted by Charles D.]
Can't forget the extra dose of this pimpin'. [Submitted by Rob B.]
The extra T is for a double dose of these Tasty Tacos. [Submitted by Adam B.]
I'm confused. Is that what the hat is made out of? [Submitted by Pat F.]
I guess this doubles as a Sports-O-Ween entry (for the love of god, stop sending those in), but I don't see blackface so I can't tell for sure. [Submitted by Scott K.]
You know what? Sometimes you just gotta say what everyone else is thinking. [Submitted by Nick S.]
You'll notice that this guy is wearing a Patriots hoodie under his "Favre4Ever" jersey while attending an American football game in London. Clearly a Tory spy. [Submitted by John M.]
See, cause Pat Tillman was in the Army Rangers. Get it? [Submitted by John O.]
Okayyyyyyyy.... [Submitted by Mark V.]
You know, rhinos are among the most dangerous land mammals. [Submitted by Robert G.]
Let's not get ahead of yourselves, Jacksonville fans. There's a good chance the NFL won't even let you draft next spring. [Submitted by Jan L.]
Well, it's hard to argue with a shirt. [Submitted by Rick M., seen in Chicago]
Why aren't all mobs this good at brand awareness? [Submitted by Eric M.]
All right, I give up. What the hell does this mean? [Submitted by Josh H.]
He's a real wiredout man. Sitting in his wiredout land. Making all his plan to ... wire ... out ... something. I guess. [Submitted by Nick M.]

The One Where The Texas Rangers Inform Us Their Six-Shooters Are Not Whores [Deleted Scenes]

DAULERIO — Fri, 13 Nov 2009 14:45:10 -0500

We get a massive amount of tips in our inbox each week. Some are pretty interesting, but don't get published for one reason or another.

It's usually because they're just so absurd or really lack even the most tenuous of news angles to give them the go-ahead. Other times it's because they're just absolute horseshit. But every Friday until we get sick of running them, we'll present to you some of these not-so-shiny gems. All items should be treated as [Sic'd]. Enjoy...

Texas Lawyers Love To Send Letters

LEGAL DEMAND NOTICE -

Mr. Daulerio & Mr. Bennett;

This email is from the Texas Rangers Baseball Club legal department. It has come to our attention that your website has posted a photograph of our family-friendly Texas Rangers "Six-Shooters" female group with the headline "Whores Are Coming To Dallas " as the immediately preceding caption, at: here

We hereby demand that you promptly remove the photograph of our group. Placing our group's photograph by the word "whore" is libel and implies an association between our family-friendly group and that highly offensive word. Failure to remove the photograph promptly may result in legal action. Please let me know if you have questions. Thank you.

Lindsay Caldwell

Legal Department

Texas Rangers Baseball Club

And This Is Why Drew Sticks To Dick Jokes

•

Just out of curiosity, why do random nobodies at ESPN who allegedly had affairs get named on Deadspin, but someone who voluntarily and admittedly lies about their treatment at a charity event remains nameless? Honestly, they all seem like assholes and I could give a fuck about any of them, but it seems unfair.

•

The guy who claimed he got tossed around while seeking Ali's autograph is indeed an asshole. But wouldn't the whole problem have been avoided if you'd sought confirmation of some sort from ASU and Murphy before slapping the guy's accusations on the Internet?

I love your site, but it might be a good idea to tread with just a little more care.

CTW

•

I hope you reach out to him and personally apologize. In fact, I think you owe an apology to the entire ASU family.

Pat Murphy has not only been a great coach, but an outstanding human in his almost 20 years coaching at ASU. When I read your posting earlier today it made me sick. Not because of the alleged behavior, but because I knew that the story was obviously BS and that Murph's reputation was being unfairly through the mud. The only saving grace was that the commenters seemed to see through the story, that fact speaks volumes.

I like most of your stuff Drew, but you f#$cked up big on this.

BTW, if you give me the clown's name that sent in that story, I'll be glad to pay him a visit.

•

Drew,

The least you can do for Coach Murphy is offer an apology and provide contact information for his charity. The story may have been fabricated, but you were the one who posted it without fact checking it or following up in any way. In fact, it would still be up right now if not for the thoughtful words of Mr. Policar, who demonstrated tremendous reserve in his response. I cannot even imagine what I would do if someone posted such egregious lies about a close friend of mine. Your non-apology of a post makes you this biggest asshole out of this whole situation.

But WHITE IS RIGHT

Barry:

I read your excerpt regading Sammy Sosa's lightened complexion and agree with you until you say: "He just wants to be beautiful."

Sammy Sosa wants to be WHITE. It is unclear what his motivation is behind turning white. Being BEAUTIFUL is a totally different motivation and one would NOT need to be white in order to be beautiful. Naomi Campbell is beautiful, Denzel Washington is beautiful, Iman is beautiful, Michelle Obama is beautiful, Tyson Beckford is beautiful, Halle Berry is beautiful, and the list of beautiful black people goes on and on.

Your wording continues to perpetuate the illogical conclusion that White = Beautiful. Its illogical because all Colors are beautiful, including white. Not just white in and of itself.

Now, This Is More Like It

Hey, how you doin'?

Just ran across your piece of shit website.
Sent this e-mail because there is no way I would register on your site
I am 50 years old, a life time steeler fan. Born in Jersey Shore, PA. (west of Williamsport, Home of little league world series. check a map, if you know how to read one!)

The only thing I agree with you on is band wagon jumpers are fucking ass holes. That's why I hate COWBOY fans.
I have been a steeler fan through good AND bad.

Quit your sniveling cry baby.

Have nice day.......

There Are Drawbacks To Being Number One On The New York Times Bestseller List

Hi,

Would you pay money for an exclusive picture of Bill Simmons' wife? If so, how much?

Thank you,
Ed

LeBron James Pays Fitting Tribute To Jordan, Gives Fans New Overpriced Jersey To Buy [Nba]

Tommy Craggs — Fri, 13 Nov 2009 14:00:42 -0500

LeBron plans to surrender his No. 23 in MJ's honor. The real tribute here is less in the number change than in the shrewd business sense to introduce some No. 6 LeBron merch a month before Christmas.

And he'll petition the rest of the league to do likewise:

"He can't get the logo, and if he can't, something has to be done. I feel like no NBA player should wear 23. I'm starting a petition, and I've got to get everyone in the NBA to sign it. Now, if I'm not going to wear No. 23, then nobody else should be able to wear it."

[...]

"If you see 23, you think about Michael Jordan," James said. "You see game-winning shots, you think about Michael Jordan; you see guys fly through the air, you think about Michael Jordan; you see fly kicks, you think about Michael Jordan. He did so much, it has to be recognized, and not just by putting him in the Hall of Fame."

LeBron says he'll wear No. 6 in homage to Dr. J, the day of his first child's birth, the month of his second child's birth, his own Olympics jersey and the total number of people in America who do not yet own any LeBron James-related merchandise.

LeBron James planning to give up No. 23 out of respect for Michael Jordan, urges others to do same [Cleveland Plain Dealer]
LeBron James Plans to Change Number, Asks Others To Do Same For Michael Jordan [The Baseline]

Ten Questions To Ask A Man Before You Agree to Marry Him [Balls Deep]

Drew Magary — Fri, 13 Nov 2009 13:30:26 -0500

It's been my experience in life that, while men are more likely to bitch about the institution of marriage, it's WOMEN who more often end up regretting getting hitched.

It's practically a ritual these days to be skeptical about marriage if you're a guy. You hear comedians and columnists and God knows who else bitching about being tied to one woman, yearning to be free to drink and ogle ass as they please. Almost all of that is an exaggeration. I may goof on being married from time to time, but I'd rather be chopped in half with a machete than NOT be married to my wife. That would be horrible and shitty.

But women. How many women do you know that rushed into getting married because all their friends were all getting married at the same time, only to later find out that their husband is actually kind of a dipshit? Because all guys are conditioned to be skeptical about marriage, because we're trained to be reluctant about the whole enterprise, we're 21% choosier about whom we end up marrying. I just made that stat up. It felt right. All of my wife's friends are married. Only half of mine are. Sure, I only have two friends, but I'm not letting that stand in the way of my gross generalization.

Some women, in their haste, end up getting the short end of the marrying stick. I don't want that happening to you, female Deadspin readers. I don't want you screwing up your life by accidentally marrying Daulerio. I don't want you suffering from Betty Draper Syndrome, wherein your husband gets to go to work and go out to dinner and travel and fuck around and have fun while you sit at home seething for 23 hours a day with the kids, hating and resenting your man in equal measure. I've seen it happen. Here now, are ten questions you should ask ANY man before you agree to marrying his hairy, sweaty ass.

1. "Do you want definitively want children?"

You'd be shocked at how many people get married without agreeing on the kid question. You are a fucking idiot, man or woman, if you get married without resolving this issue. And if you want kids, ladies, make sure your guy answers YES without qualifications. None of this, "I think so," shit. Tie that fucker down and make him give you a proper answer.

2. "Do you want multiple children?'

Same deal. If you have one kid, you don't have children. You have a pet. One child is NOTHING. After two kids, all final child tallies can be negotiated WHILE married. But not the second kid.

3. "Do you want a dog?'

Because if you want one and he doesn't, he will end up wanting to choke that thing to fucking death.

4. "Will you help with the kids?"

Will you change the diapers, and feed them, and mouthrape them with the toothbrush before bed every night?

5. "No, I mean it. WILL YOU FUCKING HELP WITH THESE KIDS?"

That means getting up at night to feed them if you bottle feed, and changing the sheets when the diaper leaks, and putting together the crib, and all that shit. I've got parenting magazines lying around all over the place, and every issue has some article featuring confidential gripes from women about all the ways their husbands are negligent scumbags. "He was so nice when we first got married, but now he won't do ANYTHING!" These deadbeats are ruining it for the rest of us husbandfolk. FUCKERS. Gonna spend your life with a guy? Make sure he will get his ass out of bed at night for the fucking kid. Especially if he works an office job during the day. Office jobs are a cakewalk compared to staying at home with a kid, or worse, working during the day and then taking care of the kid at night all by yourself because you're husband doesn't want to help. Make sure the fucker will help. Make him sign a fucking waiver if you have to. Unless he works in a coal mine during the day, he's got the energy.

6. "Have you had any major dental work done?"

Is your fiance gonna need 10 new bridges for $2,000 a pop in the next decade? Jesus, that blows. That means your kid will have retarded teeth you have to pay to fix, too. That's drinking money! In fact, check his entire medical history and his family's medical history. Have all his male relatives died before the age of 45? THEN HE WON'T BE ABLE TO HELP WITH THOSE FUCKING KIDS.

7. "If you don't bother me about frequency of intercourse, I'll look the other way with regards to your Fuck Yeah Tumblr habit. Fair?"

It's fair, for you men out there. Take the deal.

8. "Will you have sex with other people?"

Because that would be bad.

9. "Are you still doing cocaine?"

No? He's lying! CHECK INSIDE HIS SPEAKERS!

10. "Do you lose more than $500 a year gambling?"

When I first got married, my wife and I were thinking about combining bank accounts. I asked my father-in-law if it was a good idea to keep separate bank accounts. "Sure," he said, "If you want to get divorced." Indeed. Make sure that fucker is financially transparent. You don't want him gambling your shit away, or hiding thousands in an escrow account he can easily access once he's fled to the Caymans with the nanny.

We men are not such bad people, ladies. But you have to vet our asses before you agree to spending the rest of your life with us. It's not our fault if you elected to marry us before you realized we like drinking before 8AM every day. You have no one to blame but yourself. Do your homework. Or else, you'll end up in divorce court, staring daggers at Norm Chad from across the room. DON'T MARRY A JACKASS.

Please Don't Mention Eggs To Mike McCarthy. Ever. [Nfl]

Dashiell Bennett — Fri, 13 Nov 2009 12:45:50 -0500

The Packers fired a 22-year Lambeau Field employee because coach Mike McCarthy thought he heard the guy tell him, "Don't lay an egg." That sounds about right. I wonder if the Metrodome is hiring? [Milwaukee Journal Sentinel]

A Grim Look At Tim Tebow's Future? [Religion]

Dashiell Bennett — Fri, 13 Nov 2009 11:25:16 -0500

Buried in a flimsy trend story about the, er....resurrection of "John 3:16" madness (courtesy of YouKnowWho, natch) is a more fascinating nugget about the true originator of the craze—who is serving three life terms in a California prison.

Forbes believes that Tim Tebow's obsession with that Christ fella has sparked a resurgence in Bible messages at sporting events. You know, people holding up signs with the numbers of Bible verses so that viewers could look them up and have an epiphany. Of course, anyone over a certain age knows the signs used to be ubiquitous at major (and minor) sporting events thanks to some dude known as "Rainbow Man," a Jesus freak who was frequently seen on TV wearing a clown wig and carrying a sign that read "John 3:16." So Forbes included a "where are they now" sidebar story on Rainbow Man, a.k.a., Rollen Stewart, because unbeknown to most people (including me) he's been in jail since 1992, when he took a hotel maid hostage at gunpoint.

His personal life was a wreck as well. Stewart claimed he never made any money (his tickets to sporting events were believed to have been bought by sympathetic Christians). By the 1990s, he was homeless and living in his car. His wife and one-time signage partner had left him—she claimed he choked her when she didn't hold her sign in the correct place during a game.

Finally he went over the edge. In September of 1992, Rollen locked himself in a hotel room in a Los Angeles Hyatt and made threats to shoot at airplanes landing and taking off at nearby LAX Airport. He held a Hyatt maid hostage in his room. He plastered religious verses on the windows. After an eight-hour standoff, SWAT teams broke into his room and found a handgun, two ammunition clips and 47 live ammunition rounds.

Um. Wow. Stewart was given three life terms for the incident—yay, California sentencing laws?—and gets denied for parole pretty much once a year. Oh, he still believes in God. Just in more of a vengeful fire and brimstone kind of way, I guess.

Now I'm not saying Tebow's eye black messages are leading him down a similar path of violent insanity, but you know, some people do get a little out of hand with their Gator chomps. I suggest that he sticks to decaf.

John 3:16: Where Is He Now? [Forbes]
The Resurrection Of John 3:16 [Forbes]

Bill Self Has A Discerning Eye For Talent, Ass [College Basketball]

Tommy Craggs — Fri, 13 Nov 2009 10:15:14 -0500

Self, on former Kansas big man Darnell Jackson: "I recruited Darnell because I liked his smile and he had a nice butt, to be honest with you." [KUsports.com, h/t Ryan C.]

Algerian Soccer Team Did Not Sign Up For This [Scary]

Dashiell Bennett — Fri, 13 Nov 2009 10:00:00 -0500

Check out this ridiculous footage of the Algerian bus under siege from rock-throwing Egyptian hooligans. Say....does anyone want my ticket for their World Cup qualifier this weekend? I suddenly have to be somewhere else. [Goal.com, DirtyTackle]

Steve Nash: NBA Optometrist [Wake Up Deadspin]

Dashiell Bennett — Fri, 13 Nov 2009 09:00:19 -0500

Got an image you'd like to see in here first thing in the morning? Send it to tips@deadspin.com. Subject: Morning crap.

I don't know sign language, but I think Steve Nash might have had a problem with Violet Palmer's officiating in last night's game against the Lakers. (The Suns got crushed, btw.) Or maybe he's just invested in a LensCrafters franchise and wants to make sure everyone in the NBA has quality, stylish eyewear. He can take care of that for you in about a hour.

They say the eyes are the window to the soul—which must explain why most NBA refs have souls that are crusted with bird poo. Hey ... THAT'S THREE SECONDS!

* * * * *

Good morning, peoples. 10-6? Can that be right? Cutler almost had more INTs than the Bears had points and they still could have won? Good thing I still don't get the NFL Network.

I thought this Friday might never come ... but what if it never leaves?

Derek Jeter Has Really Let Himself Go Since...Last Wednesday [Water Cooler Fodder]

Barry Petchesky — Fri, 13 Nov 2009 06:30:00 -0500

Because no one reads the newspaper, and SportsCenter's anchors are too perky for this early in the morning, Deadspin combs the best of the broadsheets and the blogosphere to bring you everything you need to know to start your day.

•If he's going to bang his way through Hollywood, why not try a little acting? Derek Jeter has a cameo as a homeless man in the new Will Ferrell movie.

•Holy shit. I don't ever want to see the Bears on national TV ever again (not that I get the NFL Network, but you get the idea). Jay Cutler passed the ball to 12 different players; five of them on the 49ers.

•Maybe Jamal Lewis had a point about Browns practices being too rough? DE Keith Grennan ruptured a patellar tendon during yet another one of Eric Mangini's "opportunity drills." If the point of these optional practices is to give players the opportunity to prove to coaches that their knees won't explode, Grennan failed to impress.

•Joe Namath's yellow Lab was declared dangerous and must be muzzled, after it attacked a UPS driver and a nurse. Expect Joe to be running the wildcat offense for his retirement community's recreational period football team soon.

•Cam Ward will miss a month of action after having his leg sliced by a skate blade. Want the only proof you need that players aren't as tough as they used to be? Clint Malarchuk was back in goal a week later.

•An eighth grader was suspended for shaving Bengals stripes into his hair. The school claims it violates their code of conduct on hairstyles, but I think his real crime is being a Bengals fan.

•Tired of the flowchart meme yet? Too bad, because here's a really good one for NHL suspensions.

•Finally, because it's sweeping the Interwebs, it's the Dock Ellis LSD No-Hitter. In cartoon form!

Breaking News: Red Sox Fan Is Terrible Human [Media Meltdowns]

Barry Petchesky — Fri, 13 Nov 2009 02:00:00 -0500

A college newspaper columnist wrote the douchiest column in the history of douchey college newspaper columns. What's the sports angle? Check the author's headshot. There's your sports angle.

When this little gem of a column starts off with an Entourage quote in the first graf, you know we're in for something special. Breaking down the "Walk of Shame," Chris Surette handed in one of the most repugnant works of "journalism" we've seen in a while. Not repugnant because it's immoral, but because it's simply not funny.

But girls, even though many may consider you a slut after witnessing your glorious Walk of Shame, just realize that you have given this lucky guy a story he can share with others at the Grape for the rest of the year. We ought to thank you for that. And hopefully you got something out of this to … actually, we don't really care.

[snip]

Let's be real, we are too young to have a little mini-me running around. I would rather enjoy my college years drinking my face off and having to clean my own vomit, than cleaning the vomit of 16 month infant. Also, if you can't remember her name, there is a very good chance you don't know much about the broad. Trust me, you don't want that hood rat giving you a venereal disease. Not because half are not curable, but the next time you try to bang and that little cutie sees that rash around your genitals, she's going to be running for the fences.

Fairfield is a Jesuit institution, which means some in the administration aren't too happy with the subject matter. Indeed the entire newspaper faces harassment charges, and could lose their funding.

Now I'm not going to say that one student is solely responsible for the death of journalism, and I'm not going to say it's wholly because of his Red Sox fandom...I'm just going to imply it.

He Said: The Walk Of Shame [Fairfield Mirror]
Fairfield U. Newspaper Faces Discipline Over Column's 'Harassment' [Connecticut Post]

Optimistic Coyotes Fan Misses Point Entirely [Nhl]

Barry Petchesky — Fri, 13 Nov 2009 00:30:00 -0500

An Internet commenter on the new shuttle service that takes fans to Phoenix's arena:"When I lived in Denver, the Broncos ran shuttles from the park-an-rides to the stadium. The Denver Broncos always sold out games. Good move!" [KTAR]

The Best Taunt You'll See All Week [Soccer]

Barry Petchesky — Thu, 12 Nov 2009 23:00:00 -0500

The Hartford goalie warms up for the shootout by doing cartwheels (20-second mark); Stony Brook's shooter doesn't appreciate that. Let's see what happens next.

Mario, Luigi Wanted For Assault, Battery [Whimsy]

Barry Petchesky — Thu, 12 Nov 2009 21:30:00 -0500

Super Mario Kart is the greatest sports game of all time; if you disagree, you are a Communist. That's why I bring you warning that the game is much uglier when translated into real life.

This took place on Halloween, but it's funnier if you pretend it didn't. Two men dressed as a beloved video game character and his much-less-beloved brother assaulted a cab driver on Staten Island not with the red shell, but with their fists.

Investigators are on the lookout for the two and their suspected accomplice, a bipedal mushroom. If you're wondering how they've eluded capture this long, it's suspected they possess the Tanooki suit, and have been mistaken for statues by police.

Costumed duo rob SI cabby [NY Post]

John Wetteland Hospitalized For His Mental Health [Mlb]

Barry Petchesky — Thu, 12 Nov 2009 20:00:00 -0500

When police responded to calls of a possible suicidal person, the Mariners bullpen coach and former closer came out with his hands in the air, telling them he "needed help." More to follow as we get it. [KTVT]

Chicago Tribune Deploys Troop Of Writers To Rip On Sosa's New Face [Duan!]

DAULERIO — Thu, 12 Nov 2009 18:30:12 -0500

Sammy Sosa's new face has caused quite an international stir, but no more so than Chicago, specifically, the Chicago Tribune which did three different stories about Sosa's "cabeza blanca" that's captivated the nation.

First there's Fred Mitchell's "Around The Town" column which mentioned Sosa's desire to endorse the European mystery skin treatment in the U.S. Then David Haugh wishes the slugger a happy 41st birthday by asking some of his former teammates about his new face and interviewing British cosmetologists about why Sosa would do such a thing. Then he lobs this little dig at the end: "If Sosa says he's not trying to look like Michael Jackson, that's good enough for McRae. But cynics who remember the way Sosa played right field at the end of his career may point out it's not the first time he has resembled Jackson."

And The Trib's John Kass did everything but suggest he wouldn't fuck Sosa's face with Bea Arthur's dick:

• "pale as some manly Lady Gaga"
• "new Sammy looks like a boneless veal cutlet."
• "It's as if someone carefully deboned Sammy's face, rolled the skin and dipped it in an egg wash before dusting it with flour."
• "Maybe Sammy just wants to look like one particular, albeit dead, European male: Harry Caray."

***** (H/T J. Ash)

Thanks for your continued support of Deadspin. Barry will be posting later at some point.

You Are Not The Cosmos: A Review Of Bill Simmons' Book Of Basketball [Sports Guy]

Charles P. Pierce — Thu, 12 Nov 2009 17:45:11 -0500

You've read Will Leitch's essay about the Sports Guy. Now here's Charles P. Pierce, sportswriter and author, with a somewhat different take.

I swear to Christ, there's a book in here somewhere, and probably a pretty good one. Unfortunately, at this point, it appears that I'm going to need diamond-tipped drill bits, Bruce Willis from Armageddon, that rock-eating thing from the original Star Trek, 5,000 pounds of gelignite, and several members of the Leakey family to unearth it. But I know it's there. It has to be. After all, The Book Of Basketball is at the top of The New York Times bestseller list, and it already has done the world the great service of dumping from that spot Mitch Albom's latest exercise in Flintstones Chewable Eschatology. And it may just be big and heavy and lumpy enough to keep Sarah Palin's upcoming tome, My Vengeful Screaming Vagina, out of the top spot. This volume already has done much good for American letters in general. In gratitude, we should do it the favor of digging down through its many layers to find the book itself, wherever it may be. Therefore, let us first decide what to discard.

1.) Malcolm Gladwell Should Shut Up: Anybody who writes, "The other part about being a fan is that a fan is always an outsider" is pretty plainly from Neptune. And that is not even to mention the fact that, as we shall see in a moment, Simmons long ago stopped being any kind of an "outsider," even though he may never shut up about the fact that, long ago, the editors at the Boston Herald failed to recognize his genius.

2.) I Am The Cosmos: Not my line. The late Molly Ivins used it in her epochal takedown of the egregious Camille Paglia. But it applies just as well here. Skip any passage having to do with Bill's gambling, Bill's taste in movies, Bill's friends, and Bill's ongoing wonderment that there are bars in this great land in which women take off their clothes for money. Also, lose most of the footnotes. You're not the cosmos, and you're not David Foster Wallace, either.

3.) The Deep End Of The Pool: Oh, Lord, reading Simmons on race and/or history is like watching those guys in The Wages Of Fear drive the nitroglycerin down the mountain. As to the latter, anyone who can claim, seriously, that "having Larry O'Brien for a boss and then Stern was like jumping from Single-A to the majors," and even leaving aside the fact that the simile doesn't make a lick of sense, needs to do more work. The assertion is completely ahistorical. It was O'Brien (along with Players Association head Larry Fleisher, who gets one mention in the book) who carved out the 1976 and 1983 CBAs that ultimately allowed the NBA to survive long enough to make it possible for Stern, who'd worked on both of them himself, to become, in Simmons' words, someone we "don't need to waste words blowing." (You first, Bill.) And, as to race, he dances frenziedly around the topic, even at one point ruminating that, "I'm not nearly black enough to write this paragraph" before proposing an altogether banal plan for his revamped Basketball Hall Of Fame. I have no idea what he means by "not black enough," and I'd rather not try to figure it out, but it's an oddly timorous contention from someone who is fulsome throughout the book about his affection for David Halberstam's The Breaks of the Game. It's hard to conceive Halberstam ever thinking he wasn't "black enough" to write about Billy Ray Bates, say, or John Lewis. And, as I recall, Halberstam was pretty much as white as Bill Simmons is.

Someone long ago should have pried Bill Simmons loose from The Phenomenon. (Read 700 pages of Simmons and you start typing in Capitals about Important things that you seek to Emphasize. It's like reading one of those Pamphlets from 1772, except that the Author's name is not spelled, "Fimmonf.") He is an amusing writer who saw the vast potential of the Internet before just about anyone not named Gates or Gore. He has carved out a remarkable career. However, and I know this may break hearts around this place — Good Lord, earlier this week, the former Landlord hereabouts wrote this, apparently while weeping over a portrait of Simmons in a heart-shaped frame — but that's the sum total of what he's done. He is not a transformational figure. He did not reinvent sports writing, or even the way people write about sports, which is not the same thing. He didn't even really break down the formidable "kicked in the gonads" barrier as far as the language of journalism goes. (Did anyone arguing that point ever actually read Fear and Loathing on the Campaign Trail? Hunter Thompson wrote some pretty wild stuff before he got to ESPN.com.) He didn't pioneer the use of pop culture reference in sportswriting; Andre Laguerre's Sports Illustrated did that and, anyway, Simmons' vaunted pop-cult knowledge is carved out of a very thin loaf of Wonder Bread. He did very little that was new. But he did it on the Internet. He created a gig for himself and sold it well. That should be good enough.

But, alas, he seems to have bought into a lot of this messianic bullshit, and it shows. Witness the celebrated — at least, among his fans — anecdote about his epic encounter with Isiah Thomas. It's 12 pages long. You can't miss it, unless you get sidetracked somewhere in Bill's hilarious account of playing drunken blackjack with his buddies in "Vegas." (Bill loves "Vegas." Reading Bill on "Vegas" is what the original Ocean's 11 would have been like, had Anthony Michael Hall been in the Rat Pack.) Simmons, it seems, had regularly ripped Thomas in his column, on the highly empirical grounds that the former Detroit Pistons star pretty much sucks worse at being a human being than he does at being a GM. Simmons spends a couple of pages trembling about the imminent confrontation — the kind of thing, it should be noted, that all those workaday sportswriters, the ones whom we are told Bill has rendered obsolete, have to deal with practically every day. When it finally ensues, well, this happens:

"We shook hands and sat down. I explained the purpose of my column, how I write from the fans perspective and play up certain gimmicks. ... He understood that. He thought that we were both entertainers, for lack of a better word. We were both there to make basketball more fun to follow."

Having established their mutual bona fides as Important Figures In The Glittering World Of Show Business, Bill and Zeke then talk basketball and Zeke imparts to Bill what Bill calls The Secret.

"The secret of basketball is that it's not about basketball."

It was about at this point that the book flew across the room. Who the hell is this guy when he's at home, as my Irish grandmother used to say.

Jesus Mary, you spend your career rightfully pointing out that Isiah Thomas is a transcendent dickhead, and then detente is established because the transcendent dickhead, your Fellow Celebrity, hands you a threadbare bit of wisdom like that? (Hint: People have been ladling out that kind of hooey in reference to baseball literally for centuries.) You've got to be pretty damn easy for that scam to work. It's a wonder he's not doing his book tour swathed in aluminum siding.

I suspect that the actual book here involves one man's love for a game, and not himself. As an argument starter, this is the best one since Dave Thompson's I Hate New Music. (God, is Simmons wrong about Oscar Robertson and, in a shrewd cameo defending Wilt Chamberlain, Chuck Klosterman demolishes the basis for Simmons's entire anti-Oscar argument.)

And, most surprisingly, Simmons actually reveals himself to be a better than passable memoirist; the passages about his father are touching, and they hint at a family subtext that actually would have been worth exploring in a little more depth. The book ends with a warm pilgrimage to the home of Bill Walton. There is some real writing in this section. Unfortunately, it is interrupted by Bill's wondering if Walton will read his book and Walton's assurance to Bill that he will, and Bill's leaving the Walton manse, apparently on a golden cloud. You are not the cosmos, son. Get the fuck over yourself. But, prior to the universe's once again becoming Bill's personal hand mirror, there is something very, well, sweet going on here. Somewhere in these pages is a real book, and somewhere in that book is a very real heart and a very redeemable soul, and that just may be worth the digging.

Charles P. Pierce is a journalist whose most recent book, Idiot America: How Stupidity Became a Virtue in the Land of the Free, will be out in paperback in June. He's also the author of Sports Guy; Hard to Forget: An Alzheimer's Story; and Moving the Chains: Tom Brady and the Pursuit of Everything.

NFL Mercifully Ends Stupidest Product Placement Ever [Nfl]

Dashiell Bennett — Thu, 12 Nov 2009 17:15:17 -0500

Philly's Brent Celek was fined 15 yards for an idiotic TD celebration Sunday, when he raised his right leg just like the doofuses in those Captain Morgan commercials. And yep, the awful rum maker was behind the whole thing.

After the game, Celek denied having any knowledge of the sweet, delicious rum that makes everyone a Captain™ of their own evening. But then a silly advertising exec blew the whole deal and admitted that Celek was indeed part of the stealth marketing plan organized to spread "brand awareness" of Captain Morgan. Even worse, they tried to wrap it up in a charity drive to guilt everyone into pretending that it wasn't just a terrible fake viral campaign for booze.

The campaign was set to be unveiled next week and was fairly simple: For every time a player was caught on camera striking the "Captain Morgan" during a regular season game, $10,000 would be donated to Gridiron Greats. For each instance in the playoffs, the donation would elevate to $25,000. And for instances in the Super Bowl, the bounty was slated to hit $100,000 per pose.

Oh, what an amazing corporate citizen! But the grouchy grouches at NFL put the kibosh on that right away. Players can't do advertisements, charity or otherwise, during games. Please leave the shilling to every single other person associated with the broadcasting of an NFL game.

"I don't want people to think our intention was to [upset] the NFL," [ad dude] Lehrman said. "We want to find a way to do it, but it's not going to work out as currently formulated. … It's at the point where we need to re-think how we can go about doing this and find a way that we can raise money for [Gridiron Greats] without getting people upset."

They could just write a check, but then how would anyone find out about the awesome sexy female-slaying powers that simply holding a glass of Captain Morgan bestows upon even the schlubbiest alcoholic? I'm not sure the four mind-numbing commercials an hour during every televised sporting event will keep them covered.

P.S. Please be a Captain responsibly.

League shipwrecks Captain Morgan campaign [Yahoo]
Brent Celek's "Captain" Pose Was Part of "Guerrilla-Style Advertising Campaign" [700 Level]

Brave Peacemaker Of Casino Cafeteria Chair-Throwing Lady Brawl Rewarded With NBA Assistant Job [Nba]

DAULERIO — Thu, 12 Nov 2009 15:45:06 -0500

Yes, Tim Floyd, has been hired to be part of the Charlotte Hornets staff after the firing of head coach Byron Scott. GM Jeff Bower is now head coach. [Yahoo!]

IceGators Coach Defends His Stick Throwing Temper Tantrum [Hockey]

Dashiell Bennett — Thu, 12 Nov 2009 15:15:38 -0500

Brent Sapergia says throwing all his team's equipment on the ice wasn't a stunt. He was just really, really mad! (Says the refs weren't looking out for his players.) Tough, but fair. [Puck Daddy]

No One Likes Donald Sterling, Part 783 (UPDATE) [Nba]

Tommy Craggs — Thu, 12 Nov 2009 15:00:30 -0500

The league has no plans to discipline, comment on or even cough pointedly in the direction of Sterling, so activists are passing around a protest petition that David Stern can blithely ignore, too. Faaantastic!

UPDATE: There's a video, too.

Image via LA Weekly

NBA: Discipline Team Owner for Housing Discrimination [Tenants Together]

Playing Offensive Line Is Horrible. Jamboroo, Week 10 [Balls Deep]

Drew Magary — Thu, 12 Nov 2009 14:20:21 -0500

Drew Magary's Thursday Afternoon NFL Dick Joke Jamboroo runs every Thursday during the NFL season. Find more of his stuff at his Twitter feed.

This is a very brief message to a very specific set of individuals, namely junior high school, high school and college offensive linemen. Do you play offensive line? Stop. STOP. Quit. Give up. Unless you're good enough to get a free ride and/or a pro contract, you shouldn't play offensive line. Ever. You should demand a position switch to defensive line, or you should quit football and play something else that's fun and awesome.

I don't need to tell you that offensive line is the right field of football positions. You get thrown there if you're too fat and slow to play any other position. And yet, countless newbie offensive linemen in America are being brainwashed by coaches as we speak. Hoodwinked. Bamboozled. These coaches are telling them that playing offensive line is awesome. When you play o-line, all coaches feed you the same line of bullshit about why what you do is so cool:

1. "You get to hit someone on every play!"

This is somewhat true, but you don't get to TACKLE anyone. If you're lucky, you get to catch someone napping and pancake the shit out of them. Otherwise, you don't get to hit people. You get to PUSH them. Or attempt to push them, only to slide off their bodies and fall awkwardly to the ground, at which point your hands get cleated. You don't get to hit someone, wrap your arms around them, and throw them to the turf like the bastards that they are. THAT is satisfying. Blocking people is not.

2. "You are the heart and soul of this team!"

Again, LIES. The one crazy freak athlete you had on your high school team (and most every high school team has one) who would return five punts a game for TD's? THAT guy was the heart and soul of the team. You are interchangeable assholes.

3. "The offensive line is a brotherhood."

Big deal. So is the Lion's Club. At least I won't lose a fingernail when I join their outfit.

Young athletes of today, I'm here today to tell you that offensive is the least enjoyable, least gratifying position in any sport ever. Even the right fielder gets to bat. At least hockey goalies get cool masks. Offensive linemen do nothing cool. You would never play offensive line recreationally. Ever. It blows. There's a reason wide receivers always have to be reminded to block, and that's because blocking is boring and shitty. You can't fully use your hands if you're an o-lineman, which makes you the lone football player who has to act like a soccer player. You never get to touch the ball, or score. You never get to sack the QB. All you get to do is push people, or blow your assignment and get yelled at. You are the fucking extra in the movie.

Many offensive linemen are conditioned to sneer at skill position players, calling them prima donnas and glory hogs. This is because skill position players get to have fun. SHITLOADS OF FUN. If you were a gifted athlete, and you could play guard and quarterback with equal skill, which position would you prefer to play? It's not even a debate. I have no evidence to back this up, but IT'S A FACT: 95% of all offensive linemen, professional or not, don't like playing offensive line.

I am biased here, of course, because I played offensive line for ten years, and I sucked at it. Sucked HARD. I do not know why I played for so long. I really don't. I never played. I rode the bench the whole time. I liked the idea of being a football player than I did actually playing the game, and that's never good. I quit my college football team before my senior year, and my senior year was a GLORIOUS affair, filled with beer and Mario64 and actual hooking up with girls. No more three-hour practices for me! I've got boobs to fondle! I spent my entire senior year pissed at myself that I didn't quit playing football sooner. Now I've got two back surgeries to my name, and I look like an asshole when I walk.

Now, maybe some of you young offensive lineman out there really love it, and are truly passionate about playing the position. My congratulations to all three of you. For the rest of you stuck playing offensive line, QUIT. You aren't a pussy if you quit. You aren't letting your team down. You are walking away from playing a position whose crushed-fingers-to-fun ratio is off the fucking charts. Give it up. Go play soccer, or rugby, or some other sport where you get to run around, have fun, and do cool stuff. Or play NO sports at all. Smoke weed. Did you know I didn't start smoking weed regularly until senior year? IDIOT! HOW COULD I BE THAT SHORT-SIGHTED? Weed is awesome!

Don't make the same mistake I did. Don't spend every fall of your youth trapped on a soaking wet field doing duck walk drills and foot chopping exercises. Offensive line is the chain gang of sports. You are in a PRISON. Quit. Leave. ESCAPE. Go enjoy yourself. LIVE, DAMMIT! Don't waste away on an offensive line. It's totally for suckers.

The Games
All games in the Jamboroo are evaluated for sheer watchability on a scale of 1 to 5 Throwgasms.

Five Throwgasms

Pats at Colts: The day he retires, shouldn't the Colts fire whoever is their head coach and just make Peyton the head coach? He's more prepared than 98% of the league's coaches. The guy is a fucking savant. He could engineer Russian nuclear missile subs at this point. Hell, he's already the de facto head coach of this Indy team. At the very least, I'd hire him to be an offensive coordinator immediately. I'm telling you, you may as well quit fighting against having Peyton Manning as a constant fixture in your NFL viewing life. He'll be around forever.

Bengals at Steelers: I was watching the 5,000 ads for that Droid phone they keep pimping during games, and I noticed that, in the legal copy, there was this disclaimer:

"DROID is a registered trademark of LucasFilm Ltd."

So, Verizon paid George Lucas untold shitloads of cash for the right to name their phone the Droid. I'm always in favor of someone taking money from Verizon, but that's amazing. George Lucas is such a cash whore, he trademarked a single fucking word and made a mint off of it. He didn't even have to lift a finger, or create some sort of CG jive-talking eel to do it. I don't whether to be in awe, or to go spit on the fucker's house.

Four Throwgasms

Eagles at Chargers: I bought my wife "Twilight" for her birthday. Big mistake. HUGE mistake.

Three Throwgasms

Bears at 49ers: It's your Thursday Night game with Matt Millen. GAHHHHH MATT MILLEN NOOOOOOO! I've heard Millen call a couple college games this year. He's been okay, I guess. But still, you sit there listening to him, and the whole time, your brain is saying, "HOLY FUCK. IT'S MATT MILLEN, THE LOSINGEST LOSER IN THE HISTORY OF LOSING. AND THEY'RE PAYING HIM TO TALK! WHAT THE FUCK?" It's weird. It's distracting. It's like he broadcasts the entire game with his dick sticking out of his fly.

By the way, NFL scholar and very serious person Gregg Easterbrook wrote this week that the 49ers are now losing because they signed Michael Crabtree.

Beware the Crabtree Curse! San Francisco opened the season 3-1, with its sole loss to powerhouse Minnesota on the game's final snap. Since signing Michael Crabtree, San Francisco has lost four straight — the Niners just rolled over at home against the Titans, who came into the contest 1-6. Coach Mike Singletary had San Francisco's players buying into the notion that no one's bigger than the team. Then, suddenly, you can jerk San Francisco around all you want and get $17 million guaranteed as your reward. San Francisco management's cave-in to the me-first Crabtree triggered an instant losing streak, by communicating to other 49ers the message that the team-first stuff was always just empty talk. Caving in to Crabtree may cost the Niners their season.

Really, Gregg? Does Michael Crabtree play quarterback? Or defense? Because the 49ers are horrible at defense, particularly pass defense. What should the Niners have done, Gregg? NOT signed Crabtree at a reasonable level and lose their draft pick? When Crabtree decided to end his holdout because he desperately WANTED to play? And how were the 49ers abandoning team-first principles when they refused to capitulate to the high salary demands of an individual player? Isn't making sure you sign a talented player without busting your cap EXACTLY a team-first thing to do? And isn't it a smart, team-first move to welcome the guy with open arms, rather than treating him like a fucking leper and holding an endless grudge when he arrives? Oh my God, paying a player $17 million RUINS chemistry! Payroll discrepancies never happen on other NFL teams!

Easterbrook says Crabtree ruined the 49ers with "waves of negativity". OH NO! THE NEGATIVE WAVES! I CAN'T SEE THEM, BUT THEY'RE DISRUPTING OUR PRECIOUS AURAS!

Keep in mind: Gregg Easterbrook has used his column to urge everyone to go to church, and to urge people to never leave the house after midnight because bad things happen. Also, he plays poker with Nazi Shark twice a week. He's a fucking idiot. And verily the Dick Joke God chortled at that pretentious dicksmack.

Falcons at Panthers: Thanks God Mike Smith punched someone. Now he finally has a distinguishing characteristic. Mike Smith? Who? Oh, you mean the Mike Smith who tried to punch out DeAngelo Hall? Oh, he's cool.

Cowboys at Packers

Two Throwgasms

Seahawks at Cardinals: YOU WEREN'T MAN ENOUGH, KEN WHISENHUNT. For real, Anquan Boldin played for the Cardinals with STEEL PLATES IN HIS FUCKING FACE, and no one can bother to tell him he's been deactivated? That's semi-Haleyesque.

Jaguars at Jets: Before we get to this week's poop story below, a quick one of my own. I had to wake up to feed my kid at 6AM earlier this week. I got up and got out of bed. It was still dark outside. I went downstairs to make the bottle, and I fed my kid. All in the dark. Before I got back into bed, I realized I had to take a shit badly. So I head to the john, fart, and sit down to take a shit. I got up and put my boxers back on. They were wet all in the bottom, which was weird. I figured I pissed on them somehow, so I chucked them in the hamper, threw on a new pair, and went back to bed.

One hour later, I wake up and it's light outside. I go to the bathroom. There's liquid SHIT all over the bathroom floor. I freak. I run to the hamper and check the boxers I removed. They're drenched in liquid poop. I check the sheets. Poop. Poopy water everywhere, and I have no idea how it happened. I sat down to shit. My asshole was centered over the toilet. How did all this poopy water get all over the place?

So I'm sitting there later that night, eating dinner with the Mrs. When suddenly, in the middle of the meal, I cry out:

THE FART! I MUST HAVE SHIT STANDING UP WHILE FARTING! IT ALL MAKES SENSE NOW! I AM MONK!

She never finished dinner. Oh, and that story reminds me of the Jaguars.

Bills at Titans

One Throwgasm

Saints at Rams: Okay, so our Asshole Coach Digest got off to a rocky start with this whole Pat Murphy fiasco. But I'll be damned if I give up on a good idea. This week, we got flooded with story after story from poor souls who were terrorized in their youth by asshole, scumbag coaches WHO WILL REMAIN NAMELESS FROM NOW ON AND WERE DEFINITELY NOT PAT MURPHY, WHO IS A LOVELY MAN. Here's one example, from Nick:

Middle School, so like 8th grade. All wanna-be football players are gathered to sign up. Coach calls us down one by one to fill out our names, address, etc. I get down there and he asks my position. I say o-line. He head-butts me. No helmet or anything. Just grabs my head (hand on each temple) and slams his forehead into mine. Still not sure why.

Or THIS one, from apostles03:

I'm older than most Deadspinners, and physical abuse from coaches and teachers was tolerated a lot more when I was a kid than it is nowadays. We had a head coach in my high school program back in the early ‘80's who wore a whistle around his neck, secured by a leather cord. When he got especially pissed off about something, he would take the whistles off of his neck and literally whip a kid with the cord-often he would hit the shoulder pads, but on many occasions he struck the neck or the exposed back/stomach under a practice jersey. This happened maybe every other practice, at least once, to some poor kid.

I personally had to hide welts from my parents or lie about how I got a mark on my back because I didn't want to have to quit football. My parents never found out, but I'm sure some other parents knew. However, nothing was ever done about it.

One guy (an offensive guard) got hit so many times we called him "Toby". Think of the scene from Alex Haley's "Roots." 80's humor! Slap me five!

I'd sure like to whip his old carcass with a leather cord one time before he dies.

You see? Headbutts? Whippings? We can't let these stories go untold! More responsibly reported and safely anonymous emails on Monday.

Ravens at Browns: Good God. This is the Monday Night game? Holy shit, this is awful. It's rare you see a sporting event that could be ENHANCED by Chris Berman talking at the half.

Chiefs at Raiders: My mailman looks like Tom Cable. EXACTLY like him, right down to the constant sweating. And he delivers the mail the exact same way I would imagine Tom Cable delivering the mail. He just jams that shit into the slot as brusquely as humanly possible. He could give two shits if anything tears or folds. He just rapes the hell out of our mail slot. I really need to buy a mailbox.

Bucs at Dolphins: Our own Will Leitch wrote a rather pleasant and complimentary piece on Bill Simmons this week. I don't disagree with most of what Will wrote. Simmons absolutely created a new style and made old-school sports columnists instantly obsolete. I used to read him compulsively and still read most anything he writes about football or basketball. But I will tell you this: Underneath it all, Simmons still has the same DNA as the Mariottis of the world: thin skin, a steadfast belief that he's a genius when it comes to all things sports-related, bad nicknames for people (Dumbleavy? Really?), and a very small well of repeated joke memes. His voice was completely new and refreshing, but the message is often the same as the old guard. "These coaches don't know what they're doing!" "I told you something I predicted would come to pass!" There's still that self-lionization. And that's the frustrating thing about Simmons. I wish he'd leave those vestiges of the old sports writing world behind. He doesn't need them to be great. I wish he didn't always feel compelled to be the smartest asshole at the bar. Then he'd become an even greater force than he already is.

Lions at Vikings: NFL Shop always has a signature clothing pattern every year. This year, it's the "drift" pattern. Now, this is the ugliest fucking shirt I've ever seen. What is this, 1993? Jesus.

Broncos at Redskins: This game's bad. Know what's worse? A remake of "Paradise City" featuring Slash, Fergie, and B-Real of Cypress Hill.

And friend sent me this specifically to make me angry. Mission accomplished, sir. MISSION ACCOMPLISHED.

Pregame Song That Makes Me Want To Run Through A Goddamn Brick Wall

"New Fang," by Them Crooked Vultures. Josh Homme. Dave Grohl. John Paul Jones. Yep, that's my band. And you know who's not in this group? GODDAMN FUCKING FERGIE.

Embarassing Mixtape Track I Once Owned That Will Not Fire You Up

"Iesha," by Another Bad Creation. Ah, the East Coast Family. This entire group of bands fell off the face of the fucking Earth right before the turn of the century. I don't even see Boyz II Men on the nostalgia circuit. And what about that white band Michael Bivins had in one of these videos? I can't even remember their name (I thought they were in the "MotownPhilly" video, but I didn't see them). They looked like jackasses. I'm glad they never made it. Anyway, as of 2006, ABC still apparently existed. At the playyyyygrooooound…

UPDATE: Sudden Impact! Reader nvasconcelos identified them. Read more about the horribleness of Sudden Impact here.

Open Mailbag Tuesdays
Got something you want displayed for show and tell in the Deadspin Tuesday Mailbag? Dark meat, perhaps? Email me any question or observation you like.

Fantasy Player That Deserves To Die A Slow, Painful Death
Brian Westbrook. Oh, it was only a matter of time before he showed up here, with his brutal late scratch. YOU BASTARD. Aww, what's the matter, Brian? Your poor widdle head hurt? Afraid you'll get post-concussion syndrome? YOU PUSSY. You get out there, and you get your head bashed in. OUR FINANCIAL WELFARE DEPENDS ON IT. It's too late to undo the damage now! You'll be a wreck of a human being in a decade anyway! You'll be wandering the streets naked, squeezing block of cream cheese between your hands. GET ON THAT FIELD AND DANCE, RUNNERBOY!

Suicide Pick Of The Week
Last week's suicide pick of Atlanta was correct, making me 8-1 on the year. That puts the Falcons, Bears, Colts, Eagles, Vikings, Texans, Ravens, Saints and Skins off the board now. We once again pick a team for your suicide pool and something that makes you WANT to commit suicide. This week's pick? The Jets, and Silverstar headlights. I saw an ad for these things during the game the other day. They say they're brighter, and safer for your kids and all that shit. What they don't say is that fancy headlights like these will fucking BLIND every driver on the opposite side of the road. This shit is getting ridiculous. You have to drive with sunglasses on at night now because other assholes' headlights are brighter than the surface of a fucking white dwarf.

Nazi Shark's Vegas Lock Of The Week
Lots of sports sites, to demonstrate the arbitrary nature of gambling, like to have animals like monkeys pick games to see if they can outwit their human counterparts. There's no reason we at Deadspin can't also get in on the fun. So we've asked National Socialist German Workers' Party member Rolf, who also happens to be a shark, to pick one game a week. Take it away, Nazi shark.

"This week, I like the Bears getting 3 points on the road against the 49ers. Hey, you lay off my poker buddy Easterbrook. Know what he calls it when you spike a one-eyed jack on the river? An EISNER. The guy's one of us."

2009 Nazi Shark Record: 6-3. He's back on track!

This Week's Pants Party Winner
Last week's Pants Party winner was J. Burns. He did not come to claim his prize. This week's winner was J. Mullins. Mr. Mullins, come and claim your rant prize. If you're related to Shawn Mullins, I will punch you in the tit. Everytheeeeeng's gonna be allll right, ROCK A BYE! God, I hate that song. I bet Fergie co-wrote it.

Great Moments In Poop History
Regrettably, I said in Tuesday's mailbag that it's probably impossible for someone to clog a toilet with poop alone. Well, I was fucking WRONG. Over a dozen people emailed in to tell me about the triumphant times in which they, or a loved one, stopped up an open toilet drain with a poopy softball with the density of a neutron star. Reader Mike sends in the most harrowing tale of the bunch.

What follows is a bad story. About my mother. If you use this, please exclude my last name.

My mom gets horribly constipated. Cannot go to the bathroom more than once a week, and frequently only has "movement" once every two weeks. It's just the way she's designed, for whatever weird horrible "God is going to punish you for your parents sins" type of reason.

One day she comes out of the bathroom, beat red and crying. The toilet clogged. Well, ok mom, go get a plunger. No, like it REALLY clogged and water was overflowing, my dad, soldier that he is, goes and gets the plunger. I follow from a safe distance. Yes, the toilet is actually overflowing, and I leave the room to get towels to mop off the shit water.

About 30 seconds later as I'm looking for garbage towels to use, my Dad comes back. Direct quote: Plunger won't work, the shit is stuck, I'm gonna have to chop it up, do we have an old butcher knife? Lo and behold, my dad, in about 3 inches of my mom's shit water, had to chop of a large ball of compressed excrement of my mom's lodged directly in the exit hole of the toilet.

God only knows how she got that thing out on her own without going to emergency.

Oh, man. Butchered poop. Are you as horrified as I am? Let us huddle for warmth.

Now, for a proper poop story from reader Darrin. He calls it, "The Poopsicle."

When I was in college attending the fine Fairfield University in Connecticut (which is a terrible state filled with terrible people), we lived in large cookie-cutter townhouses during our junior and senior years. Our group being accepting and jovial drinkers, we didn't really have a problem with anyone. Except, we lived next to a set of thoroughbred guido neighbors. Orange faces, gold crosses, super spiked hair gel. These guys were born, bred, and raised on the Jersey shore. Needless to say, we hated these guys.

Fast forward to Christmas Vacation. My Canadian roommate and I were enjoying an empty campus and a full bottle of Jager. He couldn't pay for a flight home and I'm an alcoholic. We drank for 10 days straight. The digestive system of a human male simply was never meant to process ramen noodles, pizza, and liters of alcohol over a long period of time. Finally, this crested when we were playing some Xbox, and I announced a shit of epic proportions was coming. I bolted to the bathroom, and I heard my roommate leaving the house. While in the bathroom, I was working up to it, as I could feel a mammoth stampeding toward the exit when there was a knock on the bathroom door. The door then opens and a red cooler slides in, and the door closes. "The guidos left their cooler on the porch. Shit in it".

Three simply words. "Shit. In. It." I have never had more respect for someone.

So I scooted my ass forward and braced myself on the sides of the cooler. I huffed and I puffed, and I heard a loud plop. The smell was horrendous, I couldn't even breathe. I hopped back onto the toilet to clean myself, and I had to put the lid on the cooler or I wasn't going to make it. I opened the door and my roomate was half way across the room telling me how much it reaked.

I dragged the cooler back to the porch, but I just had to take a look, see what papa made. I looked down and there it was. It looked like it came from an elephant. A constipated elephant. Who hadn't shit in weeks. My roomate is now convinced that I have some sort of bowel disorder, because the evidence in the cooler was inhuman.

We waited, and we waited, and it stayed there for a month, then two. Meanwhile I had told everyone I knew, who would stealthily sneak a glimpse of the turdious maximus. But the cooler never moved. Finally, mid-February, the cooler is the middle of the common area, where it was clearly hurled a long distance, broken open, and, now resembling swamp thing, my magnificence had rolled out into the grass, still frozen in ice that had gathered in the cooler. It was now like a poop-ice sculpture, a poopsicle if you will.

Brilliant.

Fire This Asshole!
Is there anything more exciting than a coach losing his job? All year long, we'll keep track of which coaches will almost certainly get fired at year's end or sooner. And now, your updated chopping block:

Tom Cable*
Jim Zorn
Eric Mangini
Jim Mora
Jeff Fisher
Dick Jauron
Jack Del Rio*
Todd Haley
Lovie Smith
Andy Reid

We welcome Andy Reid to the chopping block with open arms. And we take a moment to acknowledge Dallas Morning News writer Jean-Jacques Taylor, who apparently lives in some parallel universe where Philadelphians adore Andy Reid and wish him nothing but peace and rainbows. "Philadelphia trusts Reid implicitly." It does? Do you even know where Philadelphia is? Are you aware that it's located in Pennsylvania and is filled with impatient dickheads? It reminds me of this sketch.

"And do these lions eat ants?"

Gametime Snack Of The Week

Ants on a log! Do I lick the groove of the celery and then discard it, without ever actually eating the vegetable part? Fuck and yes, I do. Adults always try and get kids to get healthy shit by tossing unhealthy shit on top of it. But kids aren't stupid. Eating big chunks of celery is awful. Like biting into a roll of dental floss.

My wife bought that fucking Jessica Seinfeld cookbook, the one where you make spinach purees and shit and bake them into muffins. The kid took one sniff of the muffin and cast it overboard. Jessica Seinfeld, you can eat hog.

Gametime Cheap Beer Of The Week

TESCO! Reader Mark C. writes in:

Last week's Chinese beer selection sparked my memory of the greatest cheap beer in the world. TESCO brand beer (or "lager" if you're some fancy Englishman) is the cheap beer of the world. TESCO is the Wal-Mart of the UK. While studying in Belfast in college, another broke American college student and I were perusing the beer and wine aisle in TESCO looking for the ultimate combination of cheap and drunk. An Irish bum with an incredible dirty beard and even better accent got our attention. He grumbled "Try this shit, it will get you fucked up." It seems TESCO produces what's called "value lager." It's 91 pence (or about $1.50) for 4 pints. That's about 6 twelve-ounce beers for $1.50. Ever drank 12 beers for 3 bucks?

Discounting keg party fees? Can't say that I have. Man oh man, that is some cheap as shit stale piss. Look at those cans. It looks like jock itch spray. Mmmm, frothy jock itch spray. I MUST HAVE IT.

Robert Evans' MVP Watch!
Time to start thinking about who the leaders are for the NFL's MVP award. So every week, legendary Hollywood producer Robert Evans will join us to give us his assessment. Take it away, Mr. Evans.

"Baby, my favorite for the NFL's MVP this year is still a TIE between Drew Brees of the Saints and Peyton Manning of the Colts! I was saddened recently to hear that my good friend Denny Hopper is suffering from prostate cancer. AND WHAT A PROSTATE! Big? You bet! That puppy has churned out more Easy Riders than a Mumbai sperm bank! I spent some time with Hop in Aruba when he was directing a short film that no one has ever seen. It was called GIRL ON A ROPE. And it was about a man, played by Hop, who sucked morphine straight from the bag and kept his wife on a rope! And Hop studied for that role by sucking morphine straight from the bag and keeping his wife on a rope! For eight weeks! Dedicated? YOU BET! Crazy as Hell? Goddamn right."

Sunday Afternoon Movie Of The Week For Browns Fans

A Perfect World. This was an awesome movie. Except for the scenes with Clint Eastwood, which comprise half the movie. Cut those scenes out, and it's fucking awesome. But I didn't like the scene where Kevin Costner has the kid make mayonnaise sandwiches. And then they eat mayonnaise sandwiches. That is fucking horrible and worse than anything in the Saw films.

Gratuitous Simpsons Quote
"Come to Duff Gardens, where roaming gangs aren't a problem anymore!"

Halftime Masturbation Kit
-For the guys: Holy Taco's gallery of men staring at boobs. That's good work there, men.
-For the gals: A very shirtless Josh Duhamel. ANOTHER THING RUINED BY FERGIE.

Enjoy the games, everyone.

Jim Nantz Just Can't Find A Woman Who Won't Cost Him Boatloads Of Money [Media Meltdowns]

DAULERIO — Thu, 12 Nov 2009 13:51:20 -0500

"I have champagne taste on a beer budget . . . I love what I do, but the bottom line is that I'm not making enough to pay for myself." [Page Six photo: Big Lead]