REPLAY FEVER: THEY CATCH IT OUT WEST, TOO.
Pac-10 institutes replay now, which still won’t keep the average over/unders on West Coast games below 55. Vegas breathes a sigh of relief.
March 15, 2005
BARNETT: I’M NOT LEAVING.
Geniuses don’t resign, at least according to Gary Barnett. Further proof that the man isn’t dumb, just shameless.
GENIUS ALERT IN KNOXVILLE:CLAUSEN BENCHED, SOPH. TO START
Genius alert in Knoxville: despite whipping the ass of a pretty good A&M defense in the Cotton Bowl, Rick Clausen is going to start his senior season on the bench for the Vols in 2005. Has Fulmer caught the genius bug? We used to think of Fulmer as a conventional kind of dude who tucks his undershirts into his boxers and defines “thinking outside the box” as “trying the spicy sauce they put on the side of the Blooming Onion” every now and then. Are we seeing the blossoming of a wacky, Gary Barnett-esque decision here, followed up with months of second-guessing, forum-stretching complaints from fans, and talk-radio conjecture about Fulmer’s coaching?
As a shit-starter, we can only say this: we really, really hope so.
18-of-27 for 222 yards with three touchdowns in the bowl game. Have a seat, Rick.
STEROID HEARINGS REVEAL: LYNN WESTMORELAND NOT THAT BRIGHT
Our local sports talk station, the estimable 790 the Zone, brought Lynn Westmoreland, Republican rep from Newnan, to talk about the necessity for steroid hearings and the role he was going to play in them. We thought it might be something special when Lynn started talking about the danger to Babe Ruth’s record as point of national significance, especially since we’re sitting in Atlanta fucking Georgia, the home of Hank Aaron. But oh, it would get sooo much better, and in a very, very short span of time.
Not many people can convince you of their total stupidity in a matter of seven minutes. Lynn, pat yourself on the back. You called a sports talk radio station and referred to Pete Rose, “Johnny Hustle” in your parlance, as the “greatest baseball player of all time,” and somehow suggested that gambling and steroids were both un-American and dangerous to our nation’s youth.
With all due respect, Representative, we can think of nothing more American than gambling and steroids, especially in combination. The World’s Strongest Man and the World Series of Poker are two of the most popular shows on ESPN. I think you know where I’m going here…
The World’s Strongest Poker Players face off in a test of guile, brute strength, and their ability to control their raging, artificially manipulated hormonal levels in an unregulated contest unfolding somwhere off the coast of East Africa! Thrill to the sight of Gunnar Van Ilhoffen losing on a straight draw to Imo Killbiten, only to overtake him on the anchor toss five minutes later! Marvel as Scottish strongman McCrae Campbell plays five straight winning hands just minutes after rupturing his abdominal sac towing a jetliner with his teeth! See Fijian Kao Mahaleaiaiaiaaha rip the arms of former champ Sigmar Ramheart off is a fit of blind rage after losing to the veteran in the Volkswagen carry! Only on ESPN 5! Sponsored by EAS Performance Supplements and the Tourist Council of Mauritius: “Because what happens in Mauritius, stays in Mauritius.”
Phil Hellmuth, Texas Hold ‘Em master, wants to play poker and take steroids at the same time. Why won’t you let him?
TALL DEFORMED ADOLESCENTS ROBBING US OF OUR ATTENTION SPAN
We’ve been a bit distracted by this odd indoor game lately, a most curious thing that occurs in group settings during the months not involving football. There’s a hoop…a ball…and some other stuff, and though I don’t quite get the whole concept behind it, they do have one thing I find superior to college football.
You see, at the end of each season, tho’ they’ve played all their games, they feel the need to crown one team a champion. Deciding that voting on such a thing would be silly and unscientific, they allow a slew of teams-some quite small and atrocious, but nevertheless eligible-to compete on a national stage with the titans of the scene. They pair off teams, rewarding those with good records by pairing them against lesser “seeds”, and let them decide who the best team really is by-gadzooks!-playing the game.
Oddly enough, no one complains about the lack of say, quirky traditionalism in the system. No one seems to miss, say, geriatric boosters in oddly colored jackets dillying about the place, or festive parades celebrating the event. In fact, the whole thing is so businesslike that scads of money can be made in just the short span of three weeks! Shovels full, I tell you! And with a real champion crowned at the end!
What folly! Oh, I shall miss the deformed giants with their squeaky shoes when their mad party ends. Pity they play a game without the merits of the bowl system. Wheresoever shall they get their gift bags and commemorative baseball caps? And the festive parades…oh, and what of the greeters? Who’ll feed the unemployed greeters if we adopted such a mad system?
Myles Brand loves the BCS, and so should you, you fucking ingrate.
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