Monthly Archives: April 2010

Opening Day and Bootyism: An Unfocused Look at the Past Week in the World

Behind the gate.

Because we can’t cover everything, and we don’t work weekends, each Friday, Sports Casualties’ two co-authors will write two separate reviews of the past week. These startling pieces of immediate nostalgia will cover whatever topics the writers care to include. Consider this a wallet-sized picture that you can carry with you the entire weekend to hold yourself over until Monday when we will be back and better than ever. To read Robbie Hilson’s far more thoughtful take on the week, click here. I’m sure it will delight all of your Jason Heyward man-crushes.

I have zero business writing a week-in-review right now. I know most people don’t enjoy reading others bitch and moan about school, but Robbie did it, so that means that I can, too.

First off, major shout out to Scott Plakon, Florida State Representative for District 37, and a man whose life has completely consumed one of my favorite sporting weeks of the year. This is because of a final project for my Fact Finding class in which I must tell Mr. Plakon’s life story through public records searching.

So Mr. Plakon, tell your son Timothy to stop crashing his 2006 Kia in DeLand, and renew the registration on your son David’s 2005 Chrysler already, dammit! I’m sorry that you couldn’t get that ban on novelty lighters passed last session, but good luck getting Lake City Community College renamed as Florida Gateway College. It sounds like a noble cause.

Also, I’m pretty sure you are the only life member in NRA history without any traces of hunting or fishing licenses. You’re quite the outdoorsman. Now skidaddle along and enjoy your $6,057,096.63 of net worth. I’ve got more enjoyable work to do.

Scotty on the left.

Let’s do this.

Depending on what religion (err…team) you follow, you either celebrated Major League Baseball’s 2010 Opening Day on Sunday, Monday or Tuesday. Opening Day[s] is one of my favorite times of the year. When else can the Pirates play to a full house on Monday, and a lone spectator doing his best Dr. Robert Neville impression on Tuesday? When else will you see Steven Tyler sing “God Bless America” alongside dime-piece daughter, Chelsea, who looked as if she was preparing to carry her father off stage after a drunken karaoke rendition?

Sticking with baseball, veteran umpire Joe West had critical remarks for the Yankees and Red Sox after their season-opening series. West said that the teams were “a disgrace to baseball” for the extremely slow manner in which they play the game. the games during the opening Yankees-Sox series played at an average time 40 minutes longer than the league average.

In the spectrum of well, this doesn’t really have anything to do with you but please talk anyways, Yanks closer Mariano Rivera had the following comments:

“If he has places to go, let him do something else. What does he want us to do, swing at balls?”

That’s right Joe West, unless you have urgent plans, there is no reason why you should not be thrilled about spending hours upon hours with baseball’s two most hated teams. In other news, apparently the Yankees have given Rivera a spot in the batting lineup.

Slugger

In the un-shocking move of the week, Tim Tebow was announced as the cover athlete for EA Sports’ NCAA Football 11.  Rumors of “walk across water” and “turn water into wine” play modes are still looming.

In Monday’s Great White Man [and Nolan Smith] battle, known to some as the NCAA Men’s Basketball Title Game, Duke was victorious over Butler in a thrilling contest that was nearly won by the Bulldogs on a last second half-court shot. Although the loss was hard to take for Butler, there are plenty of positives to take from it. They were able to give their school national exposure at a level that they have never received before, they likely increased 2010 application numbers by a huge amount and coach Brad Stevens hit puberty with roughly 12 minutes left in the first half. What a night.

In baby-making news, Brett Favre became a grandpa when his 21-year-old daughter Brittany recently gave birth to a son named Parker Brett. It looks like Aaron Rodgers finally got the best of old No. 4.  It will be interesting to see how Parker Brett gets along with Percy Harvin’s grandchildren should Brett return to the Vikings next season.

Let’s talk about cardiac arrest.

On April 12, KfC will be debuting their plan to kill the world.  It is called a “Double Down,” and it is a breakfast sandwich. A breakfast sandwich with a unique choice of bread. And by that, I mean that in the place of bread is two pieces of fried chicken. Now if you’re like me, you’re thinking “Wow…that sounds delectable.” This is obviously the brain child of an Eric Cartman wet dream.  Will I be trying one? Absolutely, especially if they serve them all day. But eat at your own risk, Casualtists. We only have so many readers and we’d hate to lose any of you in a KFC-related tragedy.

Yes, it's real.

Finally, Thursday was the beginning of four of the best days  in sports, The Masters.

Now apparently, this year’s tournament is a big deal. After 144 days of carrying a civil rights policy similar to that of Jim Crow Era Georgia, the PGA finally let Tiger Woods return to playing golf, integrating golf for the first time since November 15, 2009 (or something like that). It’s been a  long time coming. You’re not fooling me, old white guys.

What’s that?

Okay, I’ve just been informed that the reason why Tiger Woods has not played golf in 144 days is because he’s quite the ladies man. Who knew!

Woods took the course at August National yesterday and looked as if he’s as good as ever. He was a few putts away from having an all-time great day in a round that was already his best every Thursday score at The Masters. I know this because Scott Van Pelt informed me of it over and over again on the west coast Sportscenter.

One can likely attribute Tiger’s great round to his 1:42 P.M. start time which gave him plenty of time to sleep off Wednesday night’s festivities. Tiger received a beyond pleasant reception from the crowd (err…gallery) at Augusta National. However, the reception was not so kind in the sky where an airplane with toys (as I called them as a toddler) flew overhead carrying a message that read:

Haha! I get it it’s like Buddhism except it’s Bootyism! Because of all the cocktail waitresses! Good one!

Revenge, thy name is Jesper Parnevik.

AND NOW…(drum roll)

WHY I HAVE WRITER’S BLOCK: The Never-Ending Saga

In no specific order, and with no real explanation, this is my weekly look at some of the things that kept me distracted while I was trying to write.

Michelle Beadle, duh.

I know, I’m late on this. Oh well.

Tweet of the Week

Because too much television makes you fat and undesirable, but too much Twitter just makes you unproductive and socially awkward. Follow SC on Twitter, the awesomeness of your life depends on it.

This week’s Tweet of the Week comes to us courtesy of the one and only Texas Rattlesnake, Stone Cold Steve Austin. Yes, we follow Stone Cold on Twitter, and you guessed it, it was my idea. In one of the more shocking revelations of my short time using Twitter, Stone Cold tweets, and he tweets a lot. Some are about his new-found acting career, some are commenting about wrestling and some are just drunken rants that are occasionally incoherent but typically entertaining. I believe this one falls in the last of these three categories.

steveaustinBSR wow this shark skin jacket is making me do strange things…i just bit the mail mans leg off…

And that’s the bottom line…

Happy Masters.

-Bryan

Leave a comment

Filed under Uncategorized

“Jason The Destroyer” and Other Google Trends: The Week in Review, Redux

 

Yeah. You should probably get use to this.

This is part one in a two-part installment. Like I’ve said before, the “redux” stays. Bryan Holt will get here when he gets here… Something about a “fact finding project.” 

I’m not gonna mince any words here: school’s got me by the balls. And by the balls is how it will have me for the next 15 or so days. I spent this week interviewing art head honchos about their lack of funding (quite frankly, not concerned), designing a curriculum for a blogging class (will never materialize) and operationalizing variables (uh, still not sure). I have this exact same schedule till late-April, and as you can tell by my muted vitriol, I’m about as pleased with this as Bryan is with Rafael Soriano… 

So let’s all take a moment to say a big thank you to Braves right field phenom Jason Heyward – the great eradicator of piss and vinegar, the guy that drowned out an entire seven days of Tiger feebleness, “Lost” hysteria and Gator zombie hunting (can’t explain). Jason – “The Destroyer,” as I’ve settled on for now – cracked a 450-foot laser beam into Turner Field’s right-field bullpen in his very first Big League plate appearance. This has happened four times in 30 years.

You can imagine my unadulterated elation upon seeing with my own two eyes that Atlanta’s Moses figure is in fact as big and scary and powerful as every Tim Kurkjian says – that the crack of the ball off his bat does indeed sound very much like a gunshot, or better yet, the backfire of a ’68 Chevelle.

I believe my subsequent 140-character outburst went something like this: 

Also, HEEEEEEEEEEYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYWAAAAAAAAAAAAA

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

AAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRDDDDDDDDD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

7:50 PM Apr 5th via web

Actually, it went exactly like that. My apologies in advance. You will have to deal with such random acts of nonsense all summer long. I know it’s childish. I know I shouldn’t put all of my hope and dream eggs in one basket after a couple games. And I know I shouldn’t be so unabashedly fixated on a kid who still can’t legally buy a beer. But, damn…

“LETS GO HEYWARD” ~ The Official Chant of SC

While we’re on the topic of chill-inducing exploits, anybody see King Arnie’s downhill bomb for birdie in the Par 3 competition on Wednesday? Just sayin’, if you didn’t get goosebumps, there’s a good chance your goosebumps are broken. 

A final thought before we get going: Tiger. I’m sitting here on my couch on a Thursday afternoon looking at a guy that looks very much like the guy I remember from 5 months ago, 5 years ago, from the 1997 Masters. He’s hunting pins, spinning club-heads, cursing under his breath, and in general, being Tiger Woods. All is right in my world, and as I’m writing, he’s walking up to the 16th green after an eagle to go to -4. Verne Lundquist offers, “And here’s one of the best.”

No, Verne. The best. 

You’re watching history this week, people. Soak it up. You will never see anything or anybody like this again.

Still fits.

__________

On the March 31 episode of Bill Simmons’ “B.S. Report,” longtime friend and diehard Yankee John O’Connell said of Alex Rodriguez’s breakup with Kate Hudson, “You never know. He could be happier sampling different things everyday.” You may or may not have read that A-Rod and I actually went to the same high school. Now I’ve found a second similarity…

Unfortunately, Research Methods requires that I sample Times articles. Not women. 

In a tremendous blow to Scott Van Pelt’s Ego, Scott Van Pelt led ESPN 2′s coverage of the LPGA Kraft Nabisco Championship that aired during the Final Four on Saturday. Paul Azinger’s Ego, also part of the crew, was deflated as well…which was a good thing for analyst Judy Rankin, who would not otherwise have fit into the booth.

In what-the-hell-was-I-thinking news, on Sunday I almost wrote about women’s college basketball.

After the UConn women topped Baylor in the Final Four, ESPN analyst Carolyn Peck told Trey Wingo, “It’s like Batman and Robin with Tina Charles.” You know, if Charles and Maya Moore are indeed two male crusaders, that would go a long way in explaining the 78-game winning streak. 

UConn’s tight Tuesday victory over Oklahoma capped a second straight perfect season for the Lady Huskies. As ESPN will constantly remind, this leaves the team just 10 victories shy of the UCLA men’s record 88 consecutive wins. Sports Casualties, for its part, is roughly 10 hits away from matching the DOW’s all-time high. But, really, that’s not a legitimate comparison either.

Somewhere, Lew Alcindor is thinking, “That crazy white boy is EXACTLY right.” 

Somewhere else, Bill Walton is smokin’ tree.

"So coach, was it as good as I said it would be?"

Two days after Duke outlasted Butler to win the NCAA championship, ESPN’s Josh Elliot teased the following SportsCenter segment with, “Mike Krzyzewski won a title for the fourth time – find out why this one feels better than all the rest.”

I didn’t stick around the 90 seconds to find out, but I imagine the answer was something along the lines of, “Because now I can go coach LeBron and still look myself in the mirror.”

Just joking, Coach K. We kid because… a Russian mobster just offered you $15 million/per to run the Nets.

In pot-kettle-black news, discount carrier Jet Blue created “Wear Your Luggage” ads to poke fun at competitor Spirit Air’s new $45 surcharge for overhead luggage. Jet Blue did not, however, unveil any ads depicting passengers waiting on the tarmac for 10 1/2 hours.

Tiger kicking ass: A tradition unlike any other.

Hours before Tiger’s 2 p.m. Monday press conference, Yahoo! search showed “Evan Turner,” “Undercover Boss,” “Ron Artest” and “Jessica Alba” trending higher than “Tiger Woods.” On Tuesday, Yahoo! conceded that even it uses Google.

If you happened to miss the Monday media interview, here’s what we learned: Jet-setting around the world with beautiful women, playing the country’s best golf courses, and making millions for your troubles is…

“Not fun.”

Woods: Destroying the competition AND the American Dream.

Seriously, though, let me know when you’ve had enough. I’ve got 2o of these.

During Monday’s 6:30 p.m. edition of “Golf Central,” the Golf Channel’s Scott Walker told analyst Alex Miceli of Woods, “He spoke about trying to connect with his fans in a more substantive way.”

No comment.

Three days away from shutting me up.

Let’s talk politics. While rightfully skewering Right Wing radio personalities for their lack of objectivity in the wake of health care’s passage, “Hardball” host Chris Matthews speculated on Tuesday’s show, “What would it be like in this country? Calcutta? Poor people all over the streets?”

I mean, yeah, I would have tried to work “Bubonic Plague” in. But “Calcutta” works. When I think of America three weeks ago, I think “poor people all over the streets.” Good call by you, Chris.

Don Nelson became the all-time winningest regular season coach on Wednesday when his Golden State Warriors topped Minnesota 116-107. ESPN analyst Avery Johnson said of the coach, “He has unconventional methods.” (Read: “has a deep-seated hatred for defense”)

There’s something to be said for longevity. There’s also something to be said about a 75-91 career playoff record and zero titles. Nellie: The Phil Niekro of NBA coaches.

My time is short. Plus the Masters is on. Tiger’s on the leaderboard, and for the first time since the ’09 PGA, I have something important to do on a Friday afternoon. Suck it, school. Here’s your buzzer beater.

The one that got away.

 - Robbie

1 Comment

Filed under Uncategorized

New Tiger Woods Commercial

I wasn’t planning on writing anything tonight, so I’ll keep this brief.

Five minutes ago, I was sitting at my desk clacking out more and more of this utterly strenuous Fact Finding final project when my Sportscenter background music became a primary soundtrack. This was because they played Nike’s new Tiger Woods commercial, an ad that debuted tonight on Masters Eve and will likely draw plenty of mixed reactions in the coming days.

My reaction can pretty much be summed up in one word, and that word is “creepy.” The commercial features the eery voice of Tiger Woods’ deceased father, Earl, giving a lecture that may have been appropriate for Tiger on Thanksgiving Night if Earl was still around.

The marketing folks at Nike were obviously in a tough spot in the mindset of “how do we reintroduce Woods to the endorsement world.” I’m not sure what the correct reintroduction would have been, but I am almost certain that this was not it. This commercial is awkward and subjects the words of Tiger’s longtime hero in a way that I find uncomfortable.

The 2010 Masters Tournament starts in just over eight hours, and many are looking forward to one of the most anticipated returns in sports history. Golf fans, including myself, are beyond excited to see what Tiger Woods will do on Thursday. Is it really necessary to accompany it with this sort of night-before introduction?

Just a thought, and an excuse for a homework break.

-Bryan

4 Comments

Filed under Uncategorized

For The White Kids

 

The White Kids: Like a turquoise version of Sports Casualties

In a startling turn of events, Bryan Holt knows rappers.

As you probably already know, the writers here at SC go to great lengths to congratulate themselves when self-congratulations is due. “When self-congratulations is due” is usually always, but last Friday, something so unexpectedly laudatory happened that Bryan – or “B-Holt” as he’s known in the clubs – initially had trouble fitting his already massive ego through the double doors of Gainesville’s finer drinking establishments.

Already a wildly popular hip-hop duo on par with Rubin/Simmons, Tampa’s The White Kids all but cornered the redneck and hipster demographics with one of the more memorable shout-outs in radio history…

SC Love at 40:00>>>>>> The White Kids on Bulls Radio

As a Beastie Boy might say, OH MY GAWD, THAT’S SOME FUNKY S***! You can probably tell that we’re excited, beside ourselves even. So to commemorate our own awesomeness and the awesomeness of our rapper friends, Sammy Mull and Vinny Edwards, I’m gonna review TWK’s new mixtape, “Suburban Menace.” Stream it here in all of it’s blazing glory.

Now let’s do this.

__________

1. Suburban Menace (Intro): Like a Knux track except crunkier and catchier. Pretty much the soundtrack to a hazy Saturday afternoon in your favorite souped up ’65 Impala. Not that I’d know.

Choice Line: “I’m hiding my eyelids because I’m puffing fire/so I’m rocking shades blacker than Richard Pryor”

2. S*** Faced: A tribute to Doc Gooden, I assume. More rhymes than Jamaica’s got mangoes and a hooky chorus, but damn, it’s depressing. A backhanded public service announcement. Nobody likes a downer drunk.

Choice Line: “We’re just livin’ to die/so f*** dyin’ to live”

3. Mixing That: The White Kids like Crown. That’s cool with SC. A looped t-t-t-t-t-ting beat with some whack synth wwwomp running through it all. If that sounds incoherent, it’s because this song got me drunk 30 seconds ago.

Choice Line: “Touch down/ I’m in the zone feelin’ hazy/Coronas got them bitches buzzin’ round me like I’m Shwayze.”

4. A Blunt and a Brew: Disclaimer – SC does not endorse smoking marijuana. Unless you can get it cheap. This one’s a slinky, little accordion jam that name drops many a Kevin Smith character. The vocoder on the chorus makes these guys sound like an apocalyptic cousin of Biz Markie. Tight.

Choice Line: “I crank the bass and treble like a heavy metal rebel”

5. Black Tie Affair: Straightforward R&B with typically agile delivery. Smooth as hell. Play it for your girlfriend… if she’s a whore.

Choice Line: “Baby, after this, you’re gonna need a cigarette”

6. Get Low: Sounds like a hit to me, uh, but I listen to Radiohead. A mid-tempo island jam that Fiddy could’ve written on one of his better days some 7 or so years ago. Baby-makin’ music.

Choice Line: “Delta Gamma, streak shooter/ I knew she was a Seminole”

7. Gray October ft. Sam Lagos: An out-of-left-field acoustic ballad that sappy white people can relate to. This one speaks to me. The vomit noises are pretty gross, but that “mooooo-oooo-oo-rr-eee” in the chorus is solid gold hits.

Choice Line: “I can’t find the stars/so meet me at the bar/Can I get another round?/To wash the pain down”

8. Came Here to Party: Some sick back-n-forth flow with plenty of flowery imagery. Play this one for your mom. She’ll love it.

Choice Line: “She gave me withdrawal/ so I made my deposit”

9. Majic Moments: A romantic ode to one Mary Jane. Don’t know who she is, but she’s probably putting out tonight. Lifts the sample from the classic Drifters song. Mad love for Ben E. King, allegory, weed.

Choice Line: “Damn man/this girl sounds amazin’/and she’s blazin’/What is she, Asian?/Caucasian?

10. See You Dance: Sparse hip-hop beats mean plenty of breathing room for Sammy/Vinny rhymes. This is a good thing. Also borrows the cadence from “Get Low.” This is an even better thing… You could probably replicate the backing track with a cheap drum machine. Can’t buy that sick flow.

Choice Line: “So try to beat us/We’re America’s best crew/No NBC, no ABC/It’s just a couple cool kids named Sammy and V”

11. Place to Be: Twelve inches? Really? Is that you, Greg Oden?

Choice Line: “Those security guards, they ain’t phasin’ me/cuz if you look around the place, you’ll be amazed to see/that me and Sammy somewhere just blazin’ trees”

12. Knock, Knock: Struts ahead on a cool, idiosyncratic warehouse stutter that you can probably find on an old Beck record. The chorus sticks like Velcro.

Choice Line: “Either way, the party ain’t stoppin’/I think I hear the cops knockin’… nope

13. Apu: Another funky mid-tempo jam with some of the best rapping on the album between 1:30 and 2:13. Sounds like a wild night in the Bahamas… with Michael Cera.

Choice Line: “A modern day hippie/I kick it with no shoes on/your girl gave me so much brain/Jimmy Neutron”

14. High in the Booth (Outro): A track that makes you want to hit up Taco Bell at 3 a.m. I imagine that’s what they were going for. Nailed it.

Choice Line: “(Damn!) I think I smoked too much/(Man!) there’s no such thing/It’s a serene routine”

In Tallahassee, and STILL awesome.

__________

Once all about smoke and mirrors, Sports Casualties is now primarily about smoke, mirrors and street cred. Tonight we spin “The Chronic” for you, White Kids. Cheers.

- Robbie

4 Comments

Filed under Uncategorized

“Lost”: Season 6, Episode 11 Recap

 

Hanes has kidnapped our Kate.

Kate Lost. Lost Kate. Kate Lost Hot. Evangeline Lilly. Evangeline Lilly swimsuit… As always, you can suck it, Google. I wanna talk “Lost.” Let’s do this.

First, to the cute brunette in Library West: I very much enjoyed that half-hour game of awkward semi-eye contact. I hope I see you again. Niceties out of the way. Island time.

We know right off the bat that this episode follows the life and times of Eddie Vedder impersonator Desmond Hume, which delights me to no end because I have a bottomless reservoir of Pearl Jam references to drop on you as this night progresses. 

Good old Charles Widmore is already pissing people off. He’s the first guy Desmond sees upon waking from his time-traveling space nap. And Desmond wastes no time at attempting to decapitate him with an IV stand. Said Widmore upon separating himself from a rabid Desmond: “Ohhh I, ohhhh, I’m still A-liiivvvee!

Oh yeah. There’s plenty of these coming.

The Widmore Others – led by one Zoe (Deschanel?) – have apparently built a massive time travel machine that one can only assume was engineered proper by my man Daniel Fairskin. Apparently, the kinks haven’t been worked out because somebody just got fried while standing in its beams – think Fourth of July hotdog left on the grill for 45 minutes. Desmond is next in line for the frier. As he’s not a Twinkie, this is an unfavorable situation in which to find oneself.

Not Desmond.

Widmore seems to think that Desmond has intrinsic qualities that make him conducive to time travel. Basically Marty McFly, but a foot taller and with a Scottish accent, brotha. By the way, this time machine looks like two massive fire donuts on parallel sides of each other. It creates a time-traveling frosting beam that zaps Desmond Star Trek-style into some netherworld.

Flashback time, people. With short hair, Dez looks more like Hugh Jackman, but instead of flirting with Barbara Walters, he’s trying to pick up another hot blonde at the airport – namely, babe Claire. Interestingly enough, the driver at the airport functions as a pimp, offering Desmond women with his car ride. I say “interestingly enough” because this is not Miami. Desmond, in an exceedingly classy move says, “I’D RATHER BE WITH AN AN-I-MAAAA-AAAAAAAALL!”

But seriously, he says no to the ladies, because he’s late for a meeting with budfriend Chuck Widmore. I, for one, saw that coming like I saw Bryan Holt’s mid-blogging beer-grab tonight. And trust me, I saw that coming. 

So we’re back from a commercial, and it turns out that the Lord of the Rings hobbit/junkie from earlier seasons is actually supposed to perform for Dez’s lady tonight, and by Dez’s lady, I of course mean, “Daughter Widmore.” This is a twisted web we weave, Casualtists. A twisted web. 

So get this. Charlie, the junkie hobbit, was actually dating Evangeline Lilly at one point. That’s on par with Julia Roberts-Lyle Lovett if you ask me. Also, Charlie and The Desmeister discuss love, life, choking on a full bag of heroin and other sex, drugs and rock ‘n roll stories. Des says to Charlie, “There’s always a choice, brother.”

This is how Justin Upton tried to talk brother BJ off the Mendoza Line last year. Happy opening night, Rays fans.

Crazy white girl: not turned off by .241 batting average.

You should know, for the sake of visuals, that Hobbit Junkie looks very much like ’94 Thom Yorke, a comparison that he does not take kindly to… because he just drove Desmond’s Mercedes into the ocean. Trapped underwater, Charlie presses his hand to the glass a la Rose in “Titantic.” It reads, hauntingly, “Not Penny’s Boat.” “Lost” expert Amber probably has some clue as to what this means. I, on the other hand, can only think of song titles with “Penny.” 1) “Penny Lane” ~ Beatles 2) “Pennies” ~ Smashing Pumpkins 3) The Mary Kate and Ashley club jam “Get Your JC Penney On.”

Commercial break loose ends: A big Sorry About Your Man Brad Stevens shoutout to Butler bandwagoner/superstar journalists/Casualtist/friend Hilary Lehman, who I promised a big shoutout to about a month ago. I hope this was worth the wait, Hilsworth. At least 63 people will see your name tonight.

Back from commercial. Desmond, at the hospital, can’t seem to answer the “Do you have any hallucinations?” question. Did Des have an experience with bad ‘shrooms, too? I know what question he can answer: “Have you ever been experienced? Not necessarily stoned, but beautiful?

This tendency for acid trips really bites Desmond in the ass when he’s put into one of those GE CAT scan units. He flips, but then runs into Dr. Jack (not Ramsay, Black, the Ripper, McDowell, Nicholson, Nicklaus… that should narrow it down). And then he finds Charlie running around in a hospital gown, playing an awkward game of semi-eye contact with the hottest nurse in the ER. Made that last part up. Really, though, Charlie’s like, “Is your name Michael Diamond?”

Nah, mine’s Clarence,” says Desmond, before running after Penny.

"Lost" fan Mike D with The King of Beers.

This alternate version of episode 11 brought to you in part by insomnia, in association with Beastie Boys lyrics. Also, did “FlashForward” hijack the entire cast of “Lost”? Because in all seriousness, I can’t stomach another hour of Junkie Hobbit Charlie.

Another big reveal: Mrs. Widmore, who’s gotta be about 20 years older than the already older-than-water Mr. Widmore, is totally in this episode. And that’s really all I can say about that. I can also say that this is definitely an instance of TV magic – there’s no way in hell a couple as heinously wrinkled as Mrs./Mr. Widmore could spawn the vixen that is Penny “I’m Also in ‘FlashForward’ Hume. Ms. Widmore explains to Desmond that he’s not ready to see “the list.” This is exactly what George Mitchell said to Bud Selig.

George then erased Albert Pujols’ name, and proceeded to show Bud the list. 

Desmond storms to his limo, (much like Bryan Holt) pounds a shot of Jack, and rolls down his window to greet a Neil Young-circa-1972-looking Daniel Fairskin. “We need to talk,” says Fairskin, who also claims to be the son of the Widmores… Just got a “V” commercial with alien sex. Lou Dobbs is frowning upon this.

Lighten up, Lou. It's not all bad.

“Do you believe in love at first sight, Mr. Hume?” Fairskin asks Desmond… Well, do ya, punk? 

Funny thing. Musician Fairskin woke up to find a bunch of quantum mechanics written in his diary, only he doesn’t know anything about science… in this life. Seems like everybody’s starting to “flash” now, and all of a sudden, this show has become, uh, “FlashForward.” To me, this is a more barefaced attempt at marketing synergy than ESPN’s Easter “Boston Day, For Catholics Only,” which was mildly offensive to me, an avowed Protestant. Shame on you,Worldwide Leader.

Daniel Fairskin tells Desmond where to intercept his future wife, Penny. They meet in a soccer stadium. Wayne Rooney introduces them. Back from the flashback, a reinvigorated Desmond is totally cooperative after being zapped by the double donuts… which is good, because he just got re-kidnapped by Sayid. After another flashback to the stadium, Desmond asks Penny out to coffee (double donuts, anyone????). She accepts. He then goes back to his limo and asks his driver, Harry Shearer, to find the passenger manifest from Flight 815. Cue horror movie violins… Why is this important?

Because much like Eddie Vedder, Desmond is given to fly.

- Robbie

13 Comments

Filed under Uncategorized

Rays-Orioles: Opening Night, Two Days Later

Symbolic of the Rays' 2010 AL East ambitions.

Because I’m going to watch it anyways, so I might as well pester you with my rambling thoughts in the process.

10:18 Rays win! Rays win! Crawford knocks in Sean Rodriguez and Kelly Shoppach for the walk-off. Who did he hit it off of? You guessed it, Mike Gonzalez, yet another former Braves reliever best known for his goofy, dancing mechanics that may or may not have drawn a few spring training heckles from yours truly during his time with the Braves. Yes, my blogging faded in the closing moments of the game. Lesson learned here: Only live blog games of which you have no rooting interest. I’ll clean this up and make it look pretty later. For now, exuberance.

Opening Day Hero

10:03 First, raw impression of Soriano: This guy sucks. Please send him back to Atlanta. He got out of a very bad spot there, but as we learned with Percival, closers need to throw strikes not waste pitches. Sincerely, Rays fan trying to stay composed while writing.

9:52 Keeping the ex-Braves trend going, new closer Rafael Soriano is in to make his first appearance as a Ray. Unfortunately, it is a non-close situation, and he just gave up a double to his first batter. My coverage is becoming more and more uninspired/bitter.

9:39 In the realm of relievers that they took from the Braves, Lance Cormier is now in the game for the Rays. Cormier finishes out the eighth, and looks to be continuing his momentum from last season.

9:31 Quick Seventh Inning Stretch shout out to The White Kids who are opening up for Roscoe Dash tonight in Tallahassee. May your performance be successful and “All the Way Turned Up.”

9:22 We have our first in-depth reporting job by Kalas tonight. He’s in the TBT Party Deck (aka my place). He interviews the recipients of Longoria’s homer which is only the second home run to ever go into the upper deck left field seats. Party Deck seats cost roughly $12. The same seat at Fenway will cost you your house. Advantage: Trop.

9:17 After six innings, James Shields is pulled from the game. He does not yell at Joe Maddon, flip off the crowd or fight anyone upon returning to the dugout. Therefore, this can be considered uneventful.

9:10 Pat Burrell (another of Mom’s baseball crushes) takes the “big inning feel” out of the sixth with a double play ball. He did this a lot last season, but he’s making $9 million to do it this year instead of $7 million. Good times.

Millwood couldn't stop Longo from going Longo (473 feet).

Bottom 6th, solo home run fest continues, this time with Longoria to left. Baltimore 3 Tampa Bay 2. Spark provided. Also, Kevin Kennedy officially becomes the Joe Morgan of the Rays’ broadcast team when he says that Longoria is “on pace” to hit 40+ homers this year. I don’t believe that people keep track of “on pace” on Opening Day, but if they did, wouldn’t Longoria be on pace for an earth-shattering 162?

8:59 Baseball live blogging loses its enthusiasm faster than a college spring semester. I need a spark, people.

Top 6th, Matt Wieters homers to right. Baltimore 3 Tampa Bay 1.

8:53 A new game dedication just came to mind. A couple of weeks ago, I was sitting at Salty Dog happy hour when some random guy noticed my Rays hat and went off on a baseball rant. His theory: the Orioles are going to finish third in the AL East this year while the Rays and Blue Jays battle in the basement. If the Rays win, I dedicate to this live blog to that man and his ignorant prediction. If they don’t, I might be avoiding happy hour this Friday. That’s probably not true.

Bottom 5th: Bartlett hits a double scoring Pat Burrell. Baltimore 2 Tampa Bay 1. Like I said, reverse jinx.

8:38 A problem that is starting to remind me of last season is run production for Shields. Shields was decent last season but received very little run support in a large majority of his starts. Hopefully this is a reverse jinx, but we’re five innings in, and it doesn’t look like too much has changed.

8:25 Finally back, and I missed a run so…Baltimore 2 Tampa Bay 0. Bryan Holt: Worst reporter ever.

8:00 Believe it or not, writing for SC does not garner one official media credentials. Therefore, I am a transient writer and will be changing reporting locations. Post-It Note: Out of office briefly. Be back soon.

7:56 Jones homer landed roughly where I sat for Game 6 of the 2008 ALCS, a devastating experience. How devastating? I was so frustrated that I did not actually see the Rays win Game 7. I’m a bitter sports fan.

Top 3rd: Adam Jones homers to right. Baltimore 1 Tampa Bay 0

7:39 The first of many 2010 Pena strikeouts brings us to Upton in his shiny new sixth spot in the lineup. I dedicate this at-bat to today’s infamous Library West Upton jersey-wearing blonde. Upton grounds out to first. In the words of every “Sportscenter” anchor ever: “How often do you see a guy make a great play on defense and then go down in his next at-bat?” All the time. Maybe next time, blonde girl.

Hint: This guy had something to do with the first tribute. Get itttt?!?!

7:33 A camera shot shows Carlos Pena at first, and his jersey is roughly half-way unbuttoned. Interesting to see that the young 2010 baseball season already has its second Tony Montana tribute.

7:30 B.J. Upton makes his first wall-banging over -the-shoulder catch of the season on a deep shot by Matt Wieters to center field. We have begun to kind of take these plays by him for granted, and that is too bad.

7:21 Evan Longoria steps up to the plate. In Tampa, my Mom just stopped folding laundry to watch this at-bat. “He’s so cute.” Longoria strikes out to end the inning. Apparently he doesn’t understand that he needs an excellent performance to promote SC’s upcoming “Longoriaisms” post. Yes, Longoriaisms. Why? Because we’re not a freaking Braves blog, that’s why.

7:16 Jason Bartlett leads off the offensive portion of the season for the Rays and grounds out to third. In other news, Kevin Millwood is still alive. Millwood is familiar with the Rays. And by familiar, I mean that he has spent many a night chasing J.P. Howell and David Price off of his lawn while wearing nothing but white briefs.

7:10 James Shields is set for the first pitch of the season. Yes, his nickname is “Big Game James,” but the title was given to him in Single-A. Take that however you like. Brian Roberts flies out on the first pitch. Say it with me: STTTEEERROOOOIIIDS!!!

7:04 Correction on an earlier note: Kevin Kennedy no longer has a mustache. I already have bad feelings about this season. On second thought, there is now a “Captain Morgan Deck” in center field. Faith in 2010 season restored.

6:52 Time for Rays’ player introductions. Last year they overpaid Michael Buffer to come and butcher everyone’s name. This year they’re sticking with the PA guy. Smart move.

Carl Crawford and Carlos Pena come out for what is almost certainly their last Opening Day with the Rays. I’m going to guess that a good 65 percent of the crowd does not know this. Like I’ve said before: St. Petersburg, a nice spring training town.

Side note: Evan Longoria has apparently gotten his hat back. I was worried sick.

Dewayne Staats: Great announcer. Legendary stache.

6:41 Opening Day jitters have gotten to me, so this is starting roughly 19 minutes early. Allow me to set the stage: For the first time in the Joe Maddon era, the Rays will open their season at Tropicana Field. You can tell that it’s Opening Day in St. Petersburg because the game is finally a sellout and there is no postgame Third Eye Blind concert. This will make Wednesday’s lack of attendance even more glaringly obvious when 11,000 people show up. For some reason, the Rays and Orioles are the last teams to debut this season. Slightly anti-climatic if you ask me.

Your announce team is Dewayne Staats and Kevin Kennedy. Both have great mustaches, one has a perm. The Strapping Young Lad, Todd Kalas, is on run-around duty.  Over the next six months, I will spend an excessive amount of time watching this trio. This is pathetically refreshing to me. The next few hours will also surely test my typing-with-a-cast abilities.

-Bryan

1 Comment

Filed under Uncategorized

Red Sox-Yankees: Opening Night, Live and Uncensored

 

The feeling is mutual, kid.

Red Sox-Yankees opening night baseball. Dust off your refresh button. Updates every… time I think of something. Or if you’re getting here late, read from the bottom up.

11:54 My sophomoric thoughts as Bo-Sox closer Jonathan Papelbon struts to the mound with Flogging Molly or some other crappy Irish music blaring over the PA system: “Is this the season the New York Post busts out the ‘Pap Smear’ headline after a crucial early October blown save?” One more out to go. 9-7, Sox with a Yankee on first and two outs. This game started mercilessly around 8:15… I need a quicker hobby. UPDATE: bel-TRE throws out Granderson for the final out… Boston Day over. Happy variable operationalization, America.

11:43 As the Sox extend the lead to 9-7 on a Pedroia single to right, I have a couple Easter-church-service observations to get off my chest: 1) I don’t need an usher to take me to my seat when the building’s half full. You’re not fooling anybody, Creekside. Empty is empty whether you have two Wal-Mart greeters breathing down my neck or not. 2) The projector guy has to be quicker on the trigger switching song lyrics… You hear that collective mumble during the first 5 words of every new verse? Yeah, that’s because everybody’s waiting for the next slide. Otherwise, pretty stellar Sunday.

11:31 As I was saying, before Bard finished the inning, he showed why he makes diehards so jittery: namely, he has the accuracy of a point oh two Donte Stallworth and the control of a rabid kindergartner. The Sox get out of the inning unscathed after a 4-pitch walk, but sphincter tightening could be a common 8th inning occurrence for Boston fans come late August.

11:24 Sox reliever Daniel Bard enters the eighth to a chorus of bloviatorial fawning – he’s had the third fasted average fastball for all relievers last year, he’s the second coming of Stud Setup Guy X, he struck out 63 in 49 IP last year, etcetera, etcetera. And while something moved in Bill Simmons pants and an older than God Neil Diamond prepped for “Sweet Caroline”… Hold up a sec. I have Neil Diamond chills. SO GOOD, SO GOOD, SO GOOD!

11:10 Matching Orel Hershiser’s Nostradamus tendencies one line at a time, John Miller offers the following as middle relief stiff Damaso Marte enters for the Yanks in the (*I can’t believe it’s still the*) bottom of the seventh: “Marte’s numbers terrible last year.” Marte promptly issues a wild pitch that moves a Sock to third and a shouldabeen wild pitch that ricochets off Posada’s glove. 8-7, Sox, as Joba The Hut puts out the fire – the fire being Adrian bel-TRE.

11:00 The MLB: Where Amazing Happens… After 6 Plus Excruciating Innings of Joe Morgan. A still-Smirfly Dustin Pedroia parks a ball into the Monster seats off of reliever Chan Ho Park. Knotted at 7. Given Park’s big 2010 NY stage, he could very well rival Byung-Hyun Kim for Most Meaningful On-Mound Nervous Breakdown By An Asian-Born Pitcher. This has to be a top-10 story line.

10:49 “Your bullpen comes in to wet the bed,” says a prophetic Orel Hershiser moments before geriatric Steven Tyler craps himself during a strained rendition of “God Bless America.” The great thing about the Aerosmith legend: his daughter. She’s 1) not Liv 2) smoking hot and 3) just turned 21. Happy birthday, Chelsea.

10:45 The Yankees can credit my temporary leave of absence for their 2 runs courtesy of A-Rod, Cano and “Hip Hip!” Jorge. In case you’re curious, I spent the last 15 minutes crafting an email to the museum curator I’m hoping to interview tomorrow. We’ll talk about finger painting, Monet, and SC. And I know, you’re not curious. 7-5, Yanks.

10:29 Youkilis shoots a 3-1 pitch into right field, Swisher runs right by it, and the Sox cut the lead to 5-4 with a stand-up triple that would have been an inside-the-parker if not for the animal growing on Youker’s chin. That’s gotta slow you down. Girardi yanks Sabathia after 5+ IP, 6 H, 4 ER. ESPN cameras again find a drunken Mike Leach hollering along the dugout railing. If you’re watching, you know exactly who I’m talking about. Also, Adrian bel-TRE, not Beltre, lines a single up the middle. 5-5 

10:23 John Miller after Victor Martinez yanks a double down the left field line: “And the Red Sox are back in business.” No outs, runners on second and third, 5-2 Yanks and CC is sucking wind (between hot dogs). It’s a good thing, because I really needed an excuse to forego operationalizing variables for another 2 hours. Baseball: The National Time Waster.

10:20 John Miller during a laughably awkward discussion of nicknames: “You don’t have a nickname.” Orel Hershiser: “Well with a first name like Orel…” Robbie: “Did Orel Hershiser just make a dirty joke?”

10:13 Question for any Bud Light exec that happens to stumble across our site: Have the guys that make the Bud Light commercials ever actually tried Bud Light? And if so, how do they sleep at night? Also, El Capitan – aka “Jeet,” according to John Miller – is 2 for 4 with an RBI. To early to predict .400?  

10:04 Sabathia through 4+: 4 hits, 2 runs… The problem with live blogging? See below.

9:59 In all of my clowning around, I would be remiss not to mention that pushing-300-pounder CC Sabathia has held Boston to just three hits through 4+. Get used to this, Sox fans. The Kool-Aid doesn’t taste nearly as good when you consider a 3-4-5 of Martinez, Youkilis and the Memory of David Ortiz. Start praying the pitching’s as good as you think it is, and expect a lot of 3-2 games.

9:56 The 66, but still sharp as a tack Joe Morgan refers to Red Sox manager Terry Francona as…

Tito, not Terry.

In his defense, this came right after a barrage of excellent commentary, featuring, “It’s hard to hit when your head is moving.”

9:40 In honor of A-Rod’s weak infield fly and JD Drew’s held-him-to-a-single, one-handed snag off a Cano wall ricochet in right, I’d like to present without further ado, THE FIVE ENCOUNTERS OF RODRIGUEZ

1) The first time I met A-Rod was at a driving range in Coral Gables. My dad walked up, told him that his son (me) went to Westminster High, too, talked about Eddie Murray, yada-yada-yada. He was well tanned. Kind of a dick, though.

2) He walks into my yearbook classroom sophomore year to promote his annual charity basketball game. This was before he signed his first $250 million contract and subsequently severed all ties with the school. Several hypodermic needles fell from his pockets. We should have been suspicious, but were momentarily blinded by his neon green Augusta National shirt. He was well tanned. Kind of a dick, though.

3) Saw him at the driving range again. Nothing further to report other than his inflated 12 handicap listed outside the gym door. Closer to an 18. Still tan. Still a dick.

4) He walked into this local dive in South Miami called the Bagel Emporium, but only after the back half of the restaurant had been cleared out for his juicer entourage. No Madonna sighting, unfortunately.

5) Same place. Bagel Emporium. Though this time, my Dad memorably asks of the half-million dollar Maybach out front, “Are we sure it’s his?” Yeah, Pops, we’re sure. But just in case, my Mom just as memorably points out, “It says ‘A-Rod’ on the tag.” No Kate Hudson sighting, unfortunately.

9:34 Here’s a little NBA talk for my own personal edification brought to you in part by Lopsided Baseball Games Are Really Boring. The Spurs throttled L.A. today and are now 5-1 in their last six, including wins against the Magic, Celtics, Cavs and Rockets. They’ve clinched a playoff spot and the only loss in that stretch came against the Nets on a fluky back-to-backer. Manu’s March/April splits: 22-6, 37-5. Watch your back, PK. 

9:29 Breaking news in to SC…. This tuesday, the Tampa Bay Rays will unveil their new rally-monkey-like opening day slogan to correspond with the blockbuster past weekend of “Clash of the Titans.” Rays PA guy: “RELEASE THE QUENTON MCCRACKEN!”

9:28 Center fielder Brett Gardner just capped off an at-bat that would make Paul Molitor proud. First and third with two outs and he works Beckett for eight pitches before lining a single to left center. Jeter follows with another single. 4-1, Yankees, as South Florida fans use every last scrap of evidence convincing themselves that forfeiting 2 great years of Sub-30 Beckett was totally worth Hanley Ramirez (*whispers* and it was). Also, Victor Martinez just fell for the double steal. Big Vic will be seeing plenty of time at first this season. 5-1, Yanks. 

9:13 As Robbie Cano pokes a double off the Monster, camera’s fixated on LeBron James and Dr. Dre mingling in a decked out skybox. Between the East Coast-West Coast rapper beef and Jay-Z’s minority ownership of the Nets, I’m pretty sure Mikhail Prokhorov just took an AK-47 to his 60-inch plasma. Also, you know what time it is…

Gratuitous King.

8:59 A big I-got-nothing-better-to-say shoutout to reader Britt Perkins, who mentioned us on her blog today, but forgot to link the site. Baby steps, Brittany. She also told me a story about one, I shi* you not, “La-A,” who’s name she came across on Last Night Texts (which she was totally surfing at work). A pronunciation? Thanks for asking. La-DASH-uh. Seriously. Great work, Brittany.

8:55 Steve Phillips will not be making any appearances in the ESPN booth tonight, but you can catch him over at AOL Fanhouse. Big Papi’s thoughts: “How the mighty have fallen.”

8:53 John Miller on David Ortiz’s limp roller to first base: “A productive out!” This about the slugger in the 5-hole. How the mighty have fallen… Youkilis goes from 2nd to 3rd on Papi’s at bat. Beltre drives Youker in despite a “spectacular catch” in center by Granderson. I believe Bill Simmons once called this move the “Deltha O’Neal Shuffle.” Different sport, but you get the concept – make a dreadful misread, hustle to catch up, make the product look more difficult than it needed to be.

8:42 Kevin Youkilis just shot one into the gap in honor of Jesus… Oh wait. He’s Jewish. Nevermind. Youker’s ’09 OPS: .961, but he played only 136 games. Youker’s SCWOPS: .807. This has legs, people. 

8:30 Random notes… Jorge Posada and Curtis “Ultimate Clubhouse Guy” Granderson both teed off on Josh Beckett in the last 2 minutes. 2-0, Yanks. Joe Morgan, who’s been in pro baseball since 1963, says that he did not know that the foul pole in the short porch in right field was called “Pesky’s Pole.” There’s a reason for firejoemorgan.com. Also, as you know, Donovan McNabb has been traded to conference rival Washington, automatically jettisoning the former Eagle into 2010 Eff You Mode. As a Cowboys fan, this does not please me. Nice job, Andy Reid.

8:25 Baseball-Almanac.com lists 2005 CC Sabathia at 6’7″, 250 pounds. MLB.com lists ’10 Sabathia at 6’7″, 290 pounds. Here’s what you don’t know: The Travel Channel’s “Man vs. Food” program is actually based on CC’s post-game spread exploits.

8:17 Sox legend Pedro Martinez throws out the first pitch. Shaq gets the start for the Yanks. Weird night.

8:12 Nick Johnson would totally benefit from SCWOPS, aka Sports Casualties Weighted On-Base Plus Slugging. Formula: OPS x (games played/team games). Johnson rocks a respectable OPS, but it’s deceptive because he’s always hurt. Is this stat full-proof? Consider this – Johnson’s ’09 OPS = .831; SCWOPS = .682

In a word, yes. Somebody get John Hollinger on the phone.

8:04 As Jack-O of B.S. Report fame would point out: this game is indeed being played in Fenway instead of the home of the defending world champions. Captive Catholic audience in front of their TVs for Easter, anyone? ESPN’s been playing up “Boston Day” for a week now – Cavs at Celtics followed by Yanks at Sox. Some people call it shameless marketing. I call it “synergy.” Nice work, World Wide Leader.

- Robbie

Leave a comment

Filed under Uncategorized

“Jason Heyward” and Other Google Trends: The Week in Review, Redux

 

Jason The Destroyer

This is part two in a two-part installment. Please click here to read Bryan Holt’s irreverent commentary on real sports and faux sports. Or simply scroll down, lazy ass. No, I’m only kidding. Enjoy.

I am a college student. I don’t keep track of date or time. I know I have multiple projects due in three weeks. This is what I know, and this is all I know. Needless to say, then, that my abject dismissal of the space-time continuum occasionally comes around to bite me in the ass. April 1st is one such occasion.

Upon scouring the blogosphere for Braves Baseball sites on which to shamelessly drop SC’s Heywardisms link, I came upon one Talking Chop and their headline “Braves Heyward to Start in the Minors.” After unleashing a barrage of f-bombs at no one in particular (just kidding, Mom), I came quickly and without forethought to this self-posed ultimatum: quit my fanhood or quit Sports Casualties. 

Look, I probably don’t have to tell you how much weight we pull with the mystics. Just in case, here are a couple recent examples of the SC Jinx:

1) On Sunday, I wrote a post entitled, “24, Presented by Jack Bauer.” On Monday, Fox announced the cancellation of “24.”

2) I wrote this on Feb. 25…

And I never thought I’d say this – mainly because he looks like he swallowed Gilbert Brown – but Shaq is actually rounding into shape (no pun intended). He’s notched back-to-back 20-point games on a Martin Gramatica-like 18 for 23 from the floor, and for the year, is averaging a 12-7 and 1 block in 23 minutes per. Not bad for a soon to be 38-year-old with tits.

O’Neal broke his hand three days later.

3) On Feb. 4, Bryan wrote a bloviatorial piece on a USF basketball team that was Big Dance-bound at 15-7. They lost four of their next five games, finished 20-13 and got housed by the Hoyas in the second round of the Big East Tournament.

This is to speak nothing of the Cinderella pieces we wrote featuring Tourney darlings Northern Iowa (lost) and St. Mary’s (lost big), our Super Bowl picks (Colts, in a landslide) or the countless wrestling careers that Bryan’s wrecked in the last two weeks. And now… Heyward.  

The SC Jinx in a nutshell.

Anyway, long story short, April Fools sucks. I’m not quitting SC. The girl sitting next to me at the bus stop really isn’t getting kicked out of school (her mom, much like Kobe after the Hawks game, was livid), Diddy is not engaged, and Jason Heyward is not in fact starting the year in Gwinnett. Still, I have greater concerns. Between myself, Bill Simmons, Matthew Berry, and the rest of the drool-spouting media who’ve compared Heyward to the greats and proclaimed the Braves today’s sleeper team, tomorrow’s dynasty, there’s absolutely no doubt in my mind we’ve collectively set the franchise back at least a decade. Possibly more. Apologies Atlanta. 

The space I’m in with the 2010 Braves is very much the space I was in during the ’03 Fiasco Bowl, and I’m not talking “in the upper deck with a bunch of drunken Buckeyes.” No. This is too good to be true. I have a queasy feeling in my stomach.

And with this reverse jinx, I present to you The Week In Review. How you like me now, baseball gods?

__________

On Friday, Wizards guard Gilbert Arenas was sentenced to 30 days house arrest, two years probation and 400 hours community service for bringing four guns into the team locker room and threatening a teammate. On Saturday, Plaxico Burress – who is still in jail – kicked himself for not living in D.C.

During the same day’s “Pardon The Interruption,” Tony Kornheiser said of Phil Mickelson’s desire to play with Tiger in the Masters, “Of course he thinks that because he thinks he could beat his brains out right now.”

Remember in “Gladiator” when Emperor Commodus knifed Maximus in the ribs, wheeled a wounded Maximus out in front of a hostile crowd, and still got his ass kicked anyway? Take note, Phillis.

L to R: Phil, Tiger

On Monday, amid trying times for the Pittsburgh Steelers and their star QB, the team’s Super Bowl MVP Santonio Holmes was sued for allegedly throwing a glass at a woman in an Orlando nightclub. Some are calling this “assualt.” I call it “walking in another man’s shoes.” Somewhere Atticus Finch is smiling.

There’s a silver lining for Ben Roethlisberger, though. In honor of Big Ben, Peppi’s Subs in Pittsburgh has replaced the original Roethlis-Burger with a full 16-ounce sandwich named the “Roethlis-Pound-Her.” 

In more Kornheiser news, Tony said on Monday’s “PTI” of Urban Meyer’s belated apology to the Orlando Sentinel reporter he abused, “He acts like he’s the law in Gainesville, and maybe he is.” 

Maybe. But if Urban Meyer was the law, wouldn’t the Gators have fewer than 38 arrests on their record?

(Note: “gators arrested under urban meyer” is actually a Google search term. Go ‘Canes.)

Turning now to politics, a new “enthusiasm” poll by the Washington Post and ABC News revealed Monday that Democrats have a 76 to 75 percent lead over Republicans. While some argue that this is an obtuse measure, the results take on meaning should you consider that 1 percent translates to roughly 1.4 million games of Patty Cake.

This week in funny-how-life-works news, Louisville disciplined head basketball coach Rick Pitino for a season of public fornicating and underachieving by signing him to a four-year contract extension. 

In a display of unparalleled class, Sports Casualties will refrain from “extension” puns. 

No comment.

Though relationships between the Eagles and quarterback Donovan McNabb have been all but severed, this week’s trade rumors were great news for ESPN reporter Sal Paolantonio who’s been out of work since the last semi-relevant, Philadelphia-based sports story. 

On Tuesday, ABC’s extraterrestrial drama “V” returned after a winter hiatus. This week newcomers to the show discovered that an American New Yorker had been impregnated by an alien, or as it’s more commonly known, “Lou Dobbs’ worst nightmare.”

This week the Miami Dolphins led by owner Stephen Ross petitioned the NFL to move home games from 1 to 4 p.m. to avoid the heat. To many of those familiar with South Florida sports, this doesn’t seem like a particularly worthwhile endeavor. 

I mean, nobody watches the Heat.

The Triple A, moments before tipoff.

In statistics-are-getting-out-of-hand news, ESPN’s Bottom Line told us Wednesday that Heat guard Dwyane Wade’s performance against Detroit that night was his “5th career game with 10 Pts, 3 Reb, 1 Ast or fewer.” What Wade was wondering afterward: does the “fewer” apply just to the 1 assist or to the points and rebounds as well?

Duke Coach Mike Krzyzewski said Thursday at a Final Four press conference of his shotmaker Nolan Smith, “He’s one of those guys in college basketball that is a very good in-between player – he makes a lot of in-between shots from the three-point to the goal.” 

Translation: Nolan Smith can’t shoot the three.

And finally, in further Final Four news, Connecticut women’s basketball coach Geno Auriemma complained this week on ESPN about the lack of public adoration and media attention given to his team that has now won 76 games in a row. Sports Casualties can relate with Coach. Much like Geno, Bryan Holt and myself love to hang around women, are on a 76-post winning streak, bitch about our lack of recognition, and, of course, are huge fish in a small pond. Also, I’m a little scared of Brittney Griner.

My time is running short. Buzzer beater, anyone?

It’s the only one I could find. Obviously.

- Robbie

Leave a comment

Filed under Uncategorized

Steve Lavin and The Heartbreak Kid: An Unfocused Look at the Past Week in the World

Like Gainesville, except more cloudy.

Because we can’t cover everything, and we don’t work weekends, each Friday, Sports Casualties’ two co-authors will write two separate reviews of the past week. These startling pieces of immediate nostalgia will cover whatever topics the writers care to include. Consider this a wallet-sized picture that you can carry with you the entire weekend to hold yourself over until Monday when we will be back and better than ever.

It is a perfectly beautiful Friday morning in Gainesville, and I say that with great personal trust in my iPhone’s weather application because I am actually writing this post on Thursday evening. Yes, you are once again experiencing the groundbreaking technology of literary DVR. I’m sorry. I love our Casualtists everywhere, but I’m still not sure whether or not you take priority over the possibility of an amazing pool day.

After the beginning of a week that was cloudy, busy and stressful, the current weather is far more rewarding than it should be. I’m not saying that it’s making everybody a little more cheerful, but I did see Urban Meyer and Jeremy Fowler split an 18-pack of Busch Light beside the Royal Village pool Thursday afternoon. The mood only became better when I realized that we are less than one month away from the non-DirecTV season premier of the show that I will be writing weekly recaps of in a very Hilson “Lost”-esque kind of way. I won’t ruin the surprise for you, but let’s just say that the torch will be passed from “kate lost hot” to “julie taylor hot” in the spectrum of SC horny 13-year-old Google magic.

SC: Terrible at surprises.

But anyways, did I mention there’s not a cloud in the sky? No, literally, not one. Let’s do this.

Alright, I’ll go ahead and get it out of the way now. On Tuesday, Bill Simmons wrote a Wrestlemania diary for ESPN.com, further increasing the social acceptance of sports entertainment, and making me feel obliged to briefly discuss Wrestlemania during my Friday freedom. For those of you who did not watch Wrestlemania (read: everyone reading this who was not at my house Sunday night), you missed what was a good, solid event.

To be honest, it was good, but nothing special up until roughly 10:13 P.M. when The Undertaker and “The Heartbreak Kid” Shawn Michaels took to the ring. The set up was pretty simple, The Undertaker has never lost at Wrestlemania, and he was putting his 17-0 streak on the line against Michaels, who if he lost, would have to retire. As in most things that I write about, I was biased here. Shawn Michaels is my favorite wrestler of all time, and while I had a feeling that he had decided to call it a career, I did not want to see it happen.

Numerous tombstone piledrivers and a legendary match later, Michaels took a three count for the last time. He left a ring that looked miniscule in the center of University of Phoenix Stadium with tears streaming down his face and soaked in a giant standing ovation.

The following night on “Raw,” Michaels, a man formerly known for his hard-living lifestyle until he became a Born-Again Christian, stood before an adoring audience and made a farewell speech that was as personal as it was moving. Michaels thanked everyone from Vince McMahon to long-time friend Triple H to a red-headed kid named Adam at WWE headquarters that puts together wrestler entrance videos.

“Night in and night out, you guys were the only ones in the world that ever made me like me,” Michaels told the fans in reference to life during the 1990s.

There are obviously few times when the acts that take place inside a wrestling ring are real, but when they are, there are few things more special in television. Here is Shawn Michael’s farewell speech.

Now to real sports.

This week, rumors surfaced that a disc jockey in Dallas had legally changed his name to TexasMotorSpeedway.com in exchange for $100,000. ESPN reported the news a few hours before it was determined that the entire deal was a complete hoax. While Dallas’ Terry Dorsey may not have had the guts to go through with a name change, I strongly believe that I can find somebody who will. Therefore, here is the offer: If you are willing to change your name to SportsCasualties.WordPress.com, I promise you that there will be a reward.

That reward will be a drink at the local watering hole of your choice. As long as it’s happy hour.

Former ESPN analyst and hair product connoisseur Steve Lavin was named the new head basketball coach at St. John’s University on Tuesday. Lavin has not coached since 2003 when he was fired from UCLA for his hair’s violation of California’s strict environmentalist restrictions.

However, on Wednesday, the big news was not Lavin coming to coach the Red Storm. According to the New York Daily News, the major ordeal revolved around Lavin’s wife, Mary Ann Jarou, who the Daily News referred to as an “accomplished actress.” You know Jarou. Who can forget her role as “Sherpa Girl” on one episode in the first season of “Entourage?” Or what about that time she played “Groupie #1″ on the hit series, “Girlfriends?” Oh, nevermind, she’s attractive. I understand her accomplishments now.

I suddenly feel the need to slick my hair back.

The Tampa Bay Rays announced this week that they are still 2,000 seats shy of selling out Opening Day. In a season that is supposed to be the most anticipated in Rays history, ticket sales are looking worse than they have in a few years. In other news, vultures have been seen circling every baseball field in the St. Petersburg city limits.

In other Rays news, Melvin “Bossman Junior” Upton has become something of a spokesperson for the Tampa Bay area in its quest to host the 2012 Republican National Convention. Upton was the focus of a welcome video that was played to the RNC selection committee when they visited Tropicana Field on Tuesday. Does Upton’s pandering to the GOP ruin his “Urban Baseball Super Hero” gimmick that the always idiotic Scoop Jackson thew upon him in this 2008 column? Warning: The previous link takes you to one of the worst columns ever written.

Tim Tebow has been known to unify Gator fans every Saturday afternoon for the past three years. However, last weekend, he did some unifying of a different kind. Tebow helped initiate a man’s proposal to his girlfriend during an autograph/photo session in Palm Beach Gardens. The man certainly did not put himself in the most beneficial of positions posing next to one of the greatest college football players of all time. I’m still trying to decide if I’m going to have Jordan Shipley or Tom Brady assist me in my future proposal to my currently non-existent girlfriend.

OMG! Tim Tebow’s proposing to m…Oh wait.

In a shocking move, Lane Kiffin decided this week that USC football will no longer be run like a giant media free-for-all reality show. Imagine that, Pete Carroll. Maybe they’ll beat Stanford this year. Hell of a concept.

The Oregon basketball coaching job is still vacant which means that the contest is out to see who can win Nike chairman Phil Knight’s man love more than anyone else. Is it just me, or is this the big offseason break that King James is looking for?

AND NOW…(drum roll)

WHY I HAVE WRITER’S BLOCK: The Never-Ending Saga

In no specific order, and with no real explanation, this is my weekly look at some of the things that kept me distracted while I was trying to write.

Bieber fever, duh.

“See, they need to change the name of the show to ‘America’s Funniest Shots in the Nuts.’” – Tweeder

AND NOW…Introducing

Tweet of the Week

Because too much television makes you fat and undesirable, but too much Twitter just makes you unproductive and socially awkward. Follow SC on Twitter, the awesomeness of your life depends on it.

This week’s Tweet of the Week comes to us from Pat Dooley, veteran Gators beat writer for the Gainesville Sun and quite the budding dirty old man. Dooley’s tweets usually say things like “Sitting in the O-Dome, Parsons looks like he’s in the zone tonight,” so you can imagine my shock and enjoyment when he rewarded us for following him with this mildly creepy side note:

pat_dooley finally watching The Wrestler for first time. Don’t think it will end well. But I got to see Tomei’s breasteses.

Happy Easter.

-Bryan

1 Comment

Filed under Uncategorized

Heywardisms

 

Jason Heyward is actually in your computer. He can be two places at once.

Like Tebowisms, except better.

  • At 6’5″, 245, Jason Heyward has surprisingly never hit a home run before. However, many a fastball have stopped dead in their tracks and run 450 feet in the other direction out of sheer terror.
  • In November of 1989, two Dartmouth graduates wrestled a baby boy from a vicious pack of wolves. They called their new prize “Jason.”
  • Long Branch, NJ native Bruce Springsteen still calls himself “The Boss,” but checks in with Ridgewood’s Heyward every so often to make sure it’s okay.
  • Eventually chosen as Baseball America and USA Today’s 2009 Minor League Player of the Year, Heyward struggled to impress scouts at first because they confused him with a bird, then a plane.
  • After Jason smashed the roof of his luxury car with a towering BP shot in Spring ’10, Braves assistant GM Bruce Manno almost confronted the right fielder before thinking to himself, “Nobody’s ever gone manno-a-Heyward.”
  • Sporting jersey No. 71 during spring training, Heyward settled for new No. 22 when numbers 23 through 70 said, “No thanks. I don’t wanna have to live up to that.”
  • Jason Heyward was born August 9, 1989… 7,021 days later, the Philadelphia Phillies captured their second and final World Series title.
  • Though only 20 years-old, Jason Heyward rarely gets carded. But when he does, he pulls out the only known copy of his Donruss Elite Status Auto.
  • A strapping lefty, Jason Heyward does not know the meaning of “opposite field power.” In the eyes of Heyward, all power is equal.
  •  It took Jason Heyward a grand total of 238 minor league games to reach the Big Leagues. It would have been sooner if not for the 238-game quota.
  • Bryan Holt extra: Raised a Yankees fan, Heyward decided that he did not want to play for his childhood heroes when they told him he could not have his very own Monument Park.

Suggestions welcomed. The best will be added. 

- Robbie

5 Comments

Filed under Uncategorized