Studies have shown that Bruce Pearl still likes breasts

For those of you who missed the No. 1 Memphis Tigers take on No. 2 Tennessee Volunteers last night, I feel sorry for you.

Not because the game started out with a combined eight 3-pointers in the first six minutes of the game (with Memphis scoring it’s first 9 points with the long ball) which made it seem like this wasn’t going to be a chess match, but an all out slugfest. (think Fight Club meets a one-on-one game between Kobe and Jordan)

And not because you would get the opportunity to see all the people who paid $10,000 to sit courtside only to have their hopes, dreams, and bank accounts CRUSHED!

And not because you missed a hell of a game that featured a Number One pinned against a Number Two from the same state, Derrick Rose showing that he isn’t overrated, and Dick Vitale there to guide you through all the madness, baby!

No, I am sorry for you because you missed this halftime interview:


(if the clip is messed up somehow, go here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LsGCItJ7q4I)

Ever since I saw Janet Jackson in the Super Bowl Halftime Show, I have learned to stick around for a little bit for the halftime of sporting events. I don’t know what it is, but it has almost become as instinctual as breathing or sending hate mail to celebrities. (Damn you Rachel Ray!! Stop yelling in your cooking show!!) And this time I was rewarded for following my instincts.

When ESPN first cut to the halftime interview, there were a few things that the males watching across America were saying:
“Wow, she looks hot! I would definitely let her have my children!”
or…
“I wish my mail-order bride dressed like that.”
or…
“ Why the hell is Bruce Pearl there?! Dude, just mute it so we can just look at her.”

However, after Bruce pearl exclaimed, “Hold him! Drape him like this!” and got his greasy, loud, much-too-tanned hands on Erin Andrews’ top shelf, every man in America, no matter your opinions on feminism or women’s rights were saying the exact same thing:

“OH MY GOD! DID THAT JUST HAPPEN? (processing pause, …then) ATTA’ BOY BRUCE!!! I WOULD KILL TO BE YOUR HANDS!”

You see, there is another instinct us males have. Whenever we see one of our own totally go above his attractiveness scale, we are forced to congratulate him (high fives and pounds mandatory), and then proceed to get a little jealous. It’s in our blood.

After viewing the clip a few times online, I have decided that Bruce Pearl has a very expressive face, while Erin Andrews has a…ummm…face as well (I think. I’m not sure if I’ve ever actually looked at her eyes. She’s got blonde hair, right?) So I have taken in upon myself to analyze this short segment of film to tell you what they are really thinking.

EA: WHAT HAS MEMPHIS DONE TO CHRIS LOFTON IN THE FIRST HALF?
her mind: god this man smells like Slim Jims and whiskey. kill me now.

his mind: bada-bing, bada-boom! i can see it now ‘Erin Andrews Pearl’. that sounds better than a slim jim right now. oh crap the question! quick, say something awesome brucie!
BP: HOLD HIM!
his mind: great response. now gaze her in the eyes and grab that silky number she is wearing. c’mon man you are bruce freakin’ pearl. hey, it worked with pat summitt.
BP: DRAPE HIM LIKE THIS!
his mind: gotcha!

EA: OKAY.
her mind: where the hell is my mace! i never should have left rachel nichols. she would know what to do. rachel nichols is so fine.

BP: RIGHT?
EA: ALRIGHT

his mind: oh god this is on film! quick, say something ironic!
BP: UHH, THEY ARE DOING A GOOD JOB OF MAKING HIS TOUCHES DIFFICULT.

her mind: i wish I could do the same thing. that’s pretty ironic.
his mind: she so got my irony. god I am so freakin’ ironic. now ask her a question. turn the tables on her a little bit, huh?

BP: WHAT A START TO THE GAME , HUH?

her mind: ass!
his mind: did it all with no wingman!

If you stop the clip at exactly 0:06, you will see an image that will prove all of the above is true.

(There is also a Joe Namath clip if you remember where he tells Suzy Kolber that he wants to kiss her. Vintage Broadway Joe : http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HQqIQyT-RuM)

NBA Legend Jamario Moon defeated by Superman and cupcake in Dunk Contest.

Yes, another NBA All Star Game has come and gone my friends. However this year, unlike last year, went off without a hitch (except for TO winning MVP of the celeb game. Just when I thought I had a break, he just comes out of the bushes BOOM!) There were no strip club shootouts, riots, or monkey knife fights in sight. However, there was one thing missing: ME WATCHING.

However, I did tune in to an event involving NBA players messing around, not playing defense, and treating the event like a glorified practice. I TOLD YOU, I DIDN’T SEE THE GAME!

But rather, I partook (or is it partaked? spell check is underlining partaked right now, and there it goes again! I feel stupid using either) in one of my favorite NBA All-Star weekend traditions besides not watching the game at all. Instead, I watched the dunk competition, presented by Sprite. And that, my friends, was probably one of the biggest names associated with the event.

Now there were other big names in the three-point contest (Dirk, Nash, and The Peja as I like to call him) and the all around bisexual shooting contest (Duncan, Stoudamire, and of course BJ Armstrong made an appearance) featuring a current NBA star, an old star from that team, and a WNBA player from that city. By the way, did anybody see David Robinson miss about seven 10-footers off the glass, but then proceed to nail the half court shot on his first try to put San Antonio in the lead? The Admiral completely revived himself there.

However, besides Dwight Howard, there was a total lack of big names at the dunk contest again this year, which is starting to become more of a tradition than the dunk contest itself. This year featured marquee names like defending champ Gerald Green, Rudy Gay, and Jamario Moon. While the dunk contest is really hit or miss some years, there were two moments that I feel defined the event for me.

1.) The cupcake
When Gerald Green’s T-Wolves teammate Rashad McCants came out onto the court with a rather peculiar white box, I was thinking one thing: “Hey, that’s a pastry box!” After the overly roided-out homophobes in the area chastised me for using the phrase “pastry box” while watching a sporting event, I was quickly redeemed when McCants unveiled the, what I like to call, “nuclear pink cupcake” from its oversized box.
“See! See! I told you it was a pastry!”
After the initial shock of seeing a cupcake, I knew that this event was going to be earth shattering. Probably because it involved all of Dwight Howard’s 265 pounds leaping from the charity stripe, which leads me to my next defining moment.


2.) The Superman Dunk.
All I can say about this is that there are few things in sports that have left me completely speechless. Among them is Roger Clemens throwing that bat at Piazza in the World Series, that skateboarder flying 50 feet in the air only to come down flat on the quarter pipe only to have his shoes catapult off his feet, the WNBA, and Dwight Howard’s dunk. The second I saw that huge monstrosity of a human essentially flying through the air and throw that ball in like he did, I witnessed a rage that I hadn’t seen since I saw Hulk Hogan pass a kidney stone. True story.

And what, you ask could make this event even better? Well, I have the solution for you right here: make it a complete freak show. I mean, if the serious players aren’t going to compete, then go the opposite way with it. It’s basically like the Surreal Life but with way bigger freaks. For example, if the NBA chooses to adopt my freak show format, I already have the first four freaks lined up to take the 2009 Dunk Contest. They are as follows:


1.) Vlade Divac
Everyone knows this guy was one of the goofiest, greasiest, hairest foreigners to ever suit up. He also had a gripping cameo in the 90’s hit Space Jam, so you know Vlade knows how to put on a show. Need I say more? So why not stage the comeback Vlade? Give the fans what they want!


2.) Air Bud
The fact of the matter is, Air Bud is an American hero. Period. Additionally, you gotta give the dog props for being the Bo Jackson of dogs with his cross over athleticism. Think about it, after he did basketball he ventured off to soccer with “World Pup” and then over to football with “The Golden Receiver”. And who could forget his Oscar Nominated performance in “7th Inning Fetch”? Plain and simple Air Bud makes Deion Sanders look like he was playing INTRAMURALS, BROTHER!


3.) The lead guitarist from the Midget KISS cover band
They are already playing my wedding, so why not? And everyone likes to see midgets fall.



4.) Dikembe Mutumbo
While odds are against him, I told Dikembe the only way he could do this is if he dressed up like Frankenstein.

So there you have it, the Freak Show lineup for the 2009 Dunk Contest. I have the feeling that this is one of those once in a lifetime ideas, like the guy who invented the urinal.

Florida Marlins Considering a New Stadium for Both of their Fans.

For this next submission, I could write on just about anything involving college basketball, the Shaq trade, or the stupid kid in Nevada who falsified his recruitment with Pac-10 powerhouses Cal and Oregon (which I will hit on later when all the facts come out on just how much crap, exactly, this kid is in.)
But rather, I write here today with a story that almost went completely under the radar. While cruising around MLB.com today, I noticed an article on the Florida Marlins FanFest that was held over the weekend. Now I normally wouldn’t care about this story for a number of reasons, such as:
1.) It’s FEBRUARY
2.) It’s basketball/ Frisbee golf season
3.) Because even Marlins fans don’t care about the Marlins.
4.) Because the pictures of everyone attending this event in shorts and T-Shirts make me more angry than Bob Knight with hemorrhoids.
and finally…
5.) Because every time the Marlins win a World Series, they dismantle their team like a fat kid going TO TOWN on his gingerbread house every 26th of December.

But I digress. The real reason this article intrigued me in the first place was the headline that read, “Stadium talks highlight FanFest.”
Stadium talks?
The Marlins?
What could they possibly be talking about?
Could they be talking about the last place Marlins (71-91), or the last place Dolphins (1-15)? (Not to mention the last place Heat (9-40). Man, when it rains it pours down there.)

But alas sports fans, these talks had nothing to do with Rickey’s Rastafarians, or D-Wade’s Demented Dribblers, but rather Uggla’s Ugglies. (It’s just too easy sometimes.) Yes, it is the Florida Marlins who are looking to move out of Dolphin Stadium and into a place of their own. In a statement by Marlins President David Samson, he had this to say to the crowd: "At next year's FanFest, we're not talking about the stadium deal. We're talking about the construction. We're talking about how it's being built. What it's going to look like." While its good to have long-term goals for your team, I have a few problems with the Marlins building a new stadium, such as:

1.) The Marlins will be worse than they were last season
Giving this team a new stadium is like sending your pothead son to Amsterdam. The kid didn’t do anything right, so why reward him? I would understand if the team was good to finally move it into its own stadium. And I’m sure the Dolphins would prefer not to trip on first base every time they do an out-route by midfield. However, this team is showing no signs of promise with their last place finish last season and now the departure of their top two players, Dontrelle Willis and Miguel Cabrera. Listen, if you put a pig in makeup, its still a pig. So why would that rule not apply to putting a homeless man in a sweater vest and khakis? It’s still a smelly, hairy, dirty, crafty-with-cardboard hobo. Long story short: putting a bad team in a bad-ass new stadium won’t make that hobo stench go away. Trust me. I’ve tried.

2.) Nobody goes to these games.
And why would they? If someone came up to me in Miami and asked me:
“Hey man, lets ditch this stupid beach filled with beautiful women and go see the Marlins game bro! C’mon man, I know they’re in last place, but the Pittsburgh Pirates are in town!”
I would have a hard time saying yes. Even if you bought me one of those ten-dollar cokes and a plastic helmet filled with half-vanilla, half-chocolate soft serve.
The truth of the matter is that nobody goes to these games. For example, the Florida Marlins had a total attendance of 1,370,511 fans show up to the park over the course of the 2007 season, with an average attendance of 16,919 dedicated at each of their 81 home games. The only problem:

THIS RANKS DEAD FREAKING LAST IN THE MAJOR LEAGUES!

If Miami sports fans know anything about anything, it’s how to be last at something. Apparently, nobody does it better than they do. I mean, when the TAMPA BAY DEVIL RAYS’ attendance beats you out, you need to take a look in the mirror.

While I will concede that a new stadium creates a buzz around your team, skyrockets attendance, creates jobs in the area, almost certainly guarantees you an All Star game, which gives the city an economic boom, I do not think a new stadium is a priority for this team. Additionally, if they were to get a new stadium, I have one burning question:

Will they even bother to put seats in?

A second handshake? That's about as useful as Jeremy Shockey in this Super Bowl.

In my amateur opinion, I’m going out on a limb by declaring that this was by far one of the greatest Super Bowls ever played. Hands down. I mean, it had everything short of a Janet Jackson nipple from being right up there with Broadway Joe’s guarantee and Adam Vinatieri’s kick. Which kick, you ask? ALL OF THEM!
There was an undefeated team, and the underdog no one ever thought could win. There was one of the best defensive efforts (for both teams) that I haven’t seen since Ray Lewis’ lawyer asked the judge “Well, what do you mean by murder, persay?” And yes, there was Plaxico Burress’ much publicized injury involving injury caused by simply falling in the shower. That’s not rare, is it? I mean, we all remember that time that The Fridge popped too many hoagies and choking right before Super Bowl XX, needing to be revived right before game time only to regain consciousness for a short time to take away Walter Payton’s defining touchdown of his career. Awesome call, Ditka.
Anyways, with a season that saw the highest scoring offense, an even higher Ricky Williams, a game played in London, the Patriots going for perfection, the Dolphins going for rock bottom, Brett Favre playing like he was ten years younger (which is still pretty old), the Browns having relevancy, and Travis Henry not knocking up some woman, I’d say it was a pretty good season. But alas, there remains one question to be answered. And I think I know what you are thinking, and the answer is: NO. Let me explain…

NO, Michael Strahan hasn’t made his orthodontist appointment…
and…
NO, I still have no idea how European chicks find walking boots attractive…
and..
NO, for the last time, I CANNOT TELL YOU HOW TOM COUGHLIN’S FACE HOLDS TOGETHER!!!

But rather, I feel the question on everyone’s mind is:

Is Bill Belichick more of a poor sport than a 5 year old tee-ball player who just realized all of the Sunny D has been consumed by his back stabbing teammates?

For a nice change of pace, I will answer this very simply: No.

I know, I know. People think this guy is classless, heartless, and possibly worthless. But I’ll tell you what, any one of us would’ve done the same exact thing.
“But Jim, there was one second on the clock! He should’ve shaken Coughlin’s hand again!”
Are you crazy!? It’s not like he didn’t already shake Coughlin’s sticky, damp, “fresh-from-the-Gatorade cooler–of-success” hand once, which also involves that walk of shame to midfield amongst all the jubilant millionaires and that goddamn pretentious confetti!!! Get over it people! What was Bill supposed to say for the second shake? Something along the lines of:

BB: “Wow Tom, congrats man. I know I just shook your hand, like, I don’t know, thirty seconds ago. But I just wanted you to know that I’m not upset or anything watching another Manning boy rip my heart out with another kneel down, but I came out here again, just to say congratulations…again. Even though I just said it. I didn’t want it to look weird. You know, with me leaving not to watch the last 0:01 if the game. I mean, (laughing) could you just imagine man! Me? Leaving? HAH! Anyways, get up on that stage tiger and try not to stare too much at Bradshaw’s dome! Hit me up later bro!...”

This has to be one of the most disappointing moments of this man’s life, and he is, despite what Colts fans say, human. Imagine having that seventh grade math teacher put that F test on your desk, take it off, then put it back on saying, “Nope, you aren’t dreaming, you really failed the hell out of this one.”

Or imagine that first girl you asked to the dance saying, “No, I’m already going with Sven, that cut foreign boy who always wears those sweaters.” Then, as if you couldn’t be more crushed, she comes back up to you and says, “You know, I wasn’t kidding about that whole Sven thing. Better luck never.”

Or even imagine that baseball coach saying, “It was a close decision, but I’m afraid you didn’t make the team.” walk away, and then turn around to say, “It’s really because you throw like a girl and smell terrible. And because I hate your stupid face.”

While these are hypothetical (God I wish. I didn’t smell that bad in my opinion), it is about the level of failure Belichick is feeling, and that one second had to just be the icing on the worst cake ever. (like carrot cake or something)

Get over it people. Billy and Tommy played fair (for this game at least, cough!) and that is the end. Stop making such a big deal about the handshake. The clock should’ve just been run down anyway and the Patriots defense should not have had to endure another play. I mean, an unprecedented SECOND handshake would’ve been more awkward than a middle school dance.

Hopefully I Don't Hit the 'Rookie Wall'

This is not your ordinary blog. No, not in the least bit. To call this writing a blog is to proclaim the Statue of Liberty merely an “action figure”. No, this writing will change the way you look at sports, and revolutionize the very way you wake up in the morning.

Scared?

I would be too if I thought that my mind would be blown to the extent of forgetting my own middle name. So all I would suggest to you is write down your birthday, pin number, and any allergies you may have because after coming into this world, this information will seem extremely,…oh, what’s the word I was looking for….secondary.
So I would suggest disconnecting your phone line, tighten your belt up, and if the cabin looses pressure, please put on your mask before assisting others. Because my friends, this is no ordinary blog. No. This is History.

Okay, now that that is over with, I guess I should explain a few things. For example, I am not under the impression that I defecate excellence with each bowel movement, with each successive movement even more profound and extraordinary than the last. Basically, this is a blog, and I feel it is necessary to write about certain things in sports that no one has really touched on. I figure I’ll update this thing about once a week at the very least. I’m not lazy, but rather just insanely busy with saving kittens from trees, helping old ladies cross the street, and volunteering at local strip joints. This is purely meant for entertainment purposes for a few friends and family members. However, if you like this and feel compelled to tell your family and friends, or if you would like to comment on anything that I have said, then go right ahead. Just a few precautions before you get started:
-If you don’t laugh when someone gets hit in the pelvis region with a whiffle ball bat, golf club, or motorcycle on America’s Funniest Home Videos, this blog isn’t for you.
-If you think mascot on mascot violence isn’t funny (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nkbKjtuNJhQ, just watch it) then this blog might not be for you.
-If you feel that there wasn’t enough Tony Romo/Jessica Simpson coverage, this blog may not be for you.

and finally…

-If you think that the American Sports scene is perfect the way it is,
with millionaires making even more millions with each passing season while a schoolteacher makes barely over the minimum wage, and

With the average price of a hot dog at a game nowadays at $12.00, and

With the fact that Shawn Merriman made the Pro Bowl in the same season he was suspended 4 games for steroid use…

Then this blog may not be for you.

For the rest of us, the fans, who yearn for a time when sports can just be played on the field and these millionaires stop bitching about their “touches” or their “minutes” or their “respect” and just PLAY THE GAME!!!

This blog is perfect for you. I’ll update this in a week. In the meantime, try and survive the way I do: with top plays, yelling at your drunk friends on whether or not one particular player or team “sucks”, and dosing off the 2 am repeats of SportsCenter.