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.
Here we are, Casualtists. Summer break is officially here, meaning that for the first time since spring break, the Week in Review is not coming to you from Gainesville. No, I’m back in Carrollwood, Tampa’s go-to location for soccer moms and mini vans.
This is far from a short-term locale for this half of Sports Casualties. I will be here for nearly four months.
This almost feels like a new start for SC. Today, I have no classes that will cause me to rush through writing this, no apartment neighbors deciding to blast strange techno music right as I’m approaching a groundbreaking idea and for the first time in weeks, the Week in Review is being sculpted sans hangover. I feel the need to reintroduce myself.
My name is Bryan Holt, and I am the co-author that didn’t write 85,000 words on the Smashing Pumpkins. Speaking of Robbie’s epic post that is already receiving critical acclaim as the “War and Peace” of SC, what the hell is up with “For Martha” getting ranked ahead of “To Forgive?” Just kidding, I listen to country.
But back to my reintroduction. I’m Bryan, and I enjoy long walks on the beach, Popeye’s fried chicken and baseball games that seem like they’re never going to end. I like pro wrestling, and I cheer for the bad guys. I currently sport a cast on my left arm due to a broken scaphoid. I either broke it while saving children during a tragic white water rafting accident or by falling off of a golf cart while intoxicated. You decide. My favorite movie of all time is Forrest Gump, but I did see “Crazy Heart” last night, and it was awesome in a “wow, no matter how much I drink, I’ll never be as bad as that guy” kind of way.
But enough about me. In honor of my Spanish final exam that kept me out of SC action early in the week, vamos a hacer esto. That means “Let’s do this,” according to Google Translate.
Earlier this week, The Wall Street Journal reported a study that declared the Cleveland Indians as the most hated team in baseball. Many seemed shocked by this news, but I for one saw it coming all along. I mean Cleveland is a despicable organization. What with their average crowds of 16,033 screaming obscenities at you and assaulting small children. Or with big-time jerks like Grady Sizemore and Mitch Talbot constantly running their mouths and telling everyone how good they are. I’m sick and tired of the Indians, and I hope that you are too. I mean who else are you going to hate? The Yankees or Red Sox? So cliche.
New England Patriots coach Bill Belichick sent Tampa Bay Rays manager Joe Maddon a personalized Patriots hoody this week after MLB temporarily banned Maddon from wearing his trademark hoody in the dugout during games. In a return act of civic grace, Tampa Bay Buccaneers coach Raheem Morris sent Red Sox manager Terry Francona the tennis ball that he squeezes when things aren’t going well.
ESPN debuted their newest “30 for 30” documentary on Tuesday night, and it focused on running back/midnight toker Ricky Williams.
The film showed how truly bats**t crazy Williams was during his 2004 drug fiasco with the NFL. It also likely made him an idol amongst rich college kids who will now become chronic stoners and pretend that they don’t care about money or status either. In the documentary, Williams was shown purchasing small and undesirable houses, allowing rapper Master P to handle his contract negotiations and doing copious amounts of drugs.
He also converted to Hinduism and was seen sleeping in a tent in the middle of Australia. The Australia incident is proof that he is not a knowledgeable camper, the Hinduism is proof that, like the rich college kids previously mentioned, he tried to act more cultured and unique than he really is. We also learned that he has made friends with nearly every journalist that has ever covered him locally.
Speaking of weed, former Gator cornerback Wondy Pierre-Louis told Orlando Sentinel reporter and friend of Urban Meyer, Jeremy Fowler, that about 75 percent of the Gators’ 2006 National Championship team smoked marijuana on a regular basis. Wondy then added a Tebowism of his own when he stated that 25 percent of the team was actually just Tim Tebow.
Ryan Howard signed a 5-year/$125 million contract extension this week. Most were expecting a car or house as his first major purchase with the new money. Instead, he was later seen buying soap and shampoo for teammates Chase Utley and Jayson Werth.
This is the part of the show where I remind everyone that the Rays have the best record in baseball and the Braves have lost eight nine in a row. Look on the bright side, Braves fans. At least your team will probably still be in Atlanta in 10 years.
The same might not hold true for the Rays and St. Petersburg where the Rays almost sold out Tropicana Field this week…over the course of three games. Yes, a three day total of two contests against the A’s and one against the Royals came out to a combined attendance of 34,282, 2,691 shy of what it would take to sell out one game at the smallest stadium in baseball. Go Rays!
Last night I was watching late night re-runs of WWE (OMG! He’s white trash!) when a mysterious children’s choir came across my screen. My intial thoughts: They could use a little baritone action, but they’re not half bad. It was then that I realized that this was no ordinary children’s choir.
It was Hitler-Jugend, better known to some as Hitler Youth.
The choir was the introduction to an infomercial that was trying to get me to purchase a DVD box set about the Nazis, or as my good friend Aldo Raine would call them, Natzees. What caught my attention was not what the infomercial was selling, there are plenty of Nazi DVD box sets, but rather how they were selling it.
The presentation brought clear comparisons to the “Girls Gone Wild” infomercials that once dominated late night advertising. It promised “material that was too shocking to show on television,” a voice-over that sounded far too enthusiastic to be discussing one of history’s most violent superpowers and a promise that if I called now, there would be no shipping and handling fees. Not quite a free edition of “Girls Gone Wild: College Girls Exposed,” but free shipping and handling isn’t a bad deal either.
Before we get to the shortened weekly series, I leave you with this line from a new Eminem freestyle, gratuitous Big Ben: “Get as rowdy as Roethlisberger in a bathroom stall.”
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.
Kickin’ it old school.
Great movie. Go buy it now. SC: Promoting things that don’t need any help since 2010.
I haven’t been on Twitter enough this week to decipher a Tweet of the week. I apologize. I know it has been two weeks in a row, but I promise that I’ll make up for it next Friday.
Have a glorious weekend.