I think the “professional” writers are increasingly nervous about the “scum of the bloggosphere” upstaging their vomit slabs with good writing. In the free market of ideas, the cream will rise to the top. That cream may not emanate from some mahongony tank of a desk in a New York high rise, but rather a laptop wired on the back of a pick-up truck and operated by one with jean shorts

Give me jorts or give me death!

I thought the asterisks were indicative of fantastical profanities, like William Demarest delivered throughout Christmas in July, e.g. Which two unprintable letters are suffixing “sheepfucker”?

I just have a hard time caring if my head coach is sleeping around. I understand folks who do care, but ultimately I just want to see a winning program. Hence, I had no problem with those calling for his head after ‘04 and ’05 (even if they were his first losing efforts) but to want to fire a coach in the middle of a spring following a 10-4 (7-2) effort with the Heisman trophy runner-up returning is, and always will be, the definition of insanity. If Gus, Mitch, and Damien were truly such vital cogs, then the team will suffer this year and Nutt will be dismissed. We won’t know the effect of their departures until the season gets going though. I reached the point of being sick of it all a long time ago, I just want to see what the result is on the field. If Nutt wins 10 games and challenges for the SEC again, then there won’t be much to complain about. If they underachieve then he will be sent packing.

why can’t Ivan Maisel tapdance a bit into politics, something that isn’t half as important to most people as sports.

The Sports Junkie and the Political Junkie are practically indistinguishable in terms of fervor, temperment and habitual viciousness, as Hunter S. Thompson continually pointed out. Indeed, that Venn diagram contains a lot of overlap. Apart from women, what else is there?

Wait, did you just refer to the whole Arkansas coach issue as “the Nutt case” and am I the only one to catch this incredible use of the english language…. You sir are a Professional, not sure at what, but we can think of something

I always find it hilarious when reporters attack coaches for living an immoral life. I mean, when sports reporters become the center for our moral compass, that will make me… well, I’ll still be a sick bastard.
Carry on.

“That cream may not emanate from some mahongony tank of a desk in a New York high rise, but rather a laptop wired on the back of a pick-up truck and operated by one with jean shorts.”

Orson is a pick-up man? Hmm, he seems like he’d be more of the ’82 T-top Camaro type. Silly stereotypes.

Honda Civic, baby. Waste half an hour a day trying to find the damn car in the parking lot.

Politics is football, but with uglier cheerleaders. The worst part is the Sunday morning hangover that lasts for four or eight years.

So it was Swift Boat Veterans that FOIAed Nutt’s phone? Or did they come up with a cool name like Hogs for Wives?

…still wiping tears from my eyes for the gratuitous “sheepfuckers”… just wasn’t expecting that, and I should know better.

And, a thousand texts a month to a woman “not named ‘your wife’”… another universal truth, that will indeed result in catastrophic physical damage.

What a coach does in the privacy of his own hotel room is his own business.

Mike “It’s rollin’ baby” Price

The nice thing about sports is the escape from the vaguery of politics. Things are black and white, outcomes definitive.

When party politics, deeply personal, are injected into inane sports stories, it’s a huge turn off.

By the way, is that Whitney or Bobby?

So I’m reading the Pat Forde column about Frank Broyles and thinking, “If Arkansas = Road House, Frank Broyles is Brad Wesley.” On further inspection, that makes the blogosphere one great collective Dalton.

I thought you’d be bigger.

#14:

Results are definitive? How about those split-championships?

Aerobab,

I think you’re confusing Orson with Subcommandante Wayne again.

#16

“A bear fell on me.”

Nailed it, Orson. At this point, a “professional” political commentator is a guy who can slap about 5000 sentences together packed with shitty metaphors and put them into book form (see Freidman, Thomas) or a semi-bitch redhead then wonder aloud what the fuss is about (Dowd, Maureen). Or total loser baseball fetishistic type (Will, George).

Taranto’s quote sounds like a relapsing alcoholic whose son keeps asking him to buy him beer.

Mike Price was making it rain before making it rain was cool.

I’ve no use for the ESPN articles. Perhaps the rise of the blogosphere has something to do with professional writers’ penchant for fellating coaches and kicking fans in the nuts at the same time.

I like Maisel when he writes about football. I like Taranto when he writes about politics. I like Swindle when he writes about football. I would prefer that never the twain shall meet. Except for Maisel and Swindle.

#16

Does that make Brad Wesley’s slutty, blonde, pole dancing arm candy the Arky TV reporter?

The asterisks are genius, what with Taranto’s use of them whenever he mentions John Kerry*.

*Who looks French.

I’d hit it.

(c’mon, someone HAD to go ron mexico)

Almost a week’s worth of columns, and not one reference to Las Cronicas?

Besides being just wrong on the basis of someone writing about Arkansas athletics for five days in a row who doesn’t have three cars up on blocks in the front yard, you would think that Maisel would have the good sense to link back to the, er, seminal work done here on EDSBS.

For shame, sir, for shame.

1. - Maybe I am slow at this time, but are you saying you would hit it, as in Whitney Houston? If that is correct, then I would say it is more like going Commando than going ron mexico.

Seriously, she’d totally fucking stab us, and not in that good Miss Manticore way, either.

For the record, no one gets it what don’t deserve it.

“What if he calls my momma a whore?”

“Is she?”

“I used to fuck guys like you in prison.”