We’re already on fumes going into the holiday weekend here, so in that spirit here’s your recharge and refill (as in your cocktail glass) reading list.
-UMichedMe’s got a haunting piece on former UM running back Tony Boles. Long, but worth it.
-Michigan=geek school. Why? It’s number two on the list of schools logging the most time in World of Warcraft play, surpassed only by the University of Washington. (If we were a Husky fan, we’d seek solace in virtual worlds, too.)
-Tony Barnhart’s got a piece on watching Joe Paterno and Bobby Bowden speak at the National Football Foundation. According to Barnhart: Paterno = wootest because he’s given boatloads of money to the university and become a part of Penn State’s life as an institution, and Bowden =wootest because…he got rheumatic fever once and he won’t quit his job. We’ve always found both of those to be inspiring.
-Bob Davie talk footbaw. Bob Davie talk footbaw pretty round spread offense. If you don’t know what the spread offense is yet, cushion all the corners in your house with foam rubber and packing tape, wear a bike helmet 24/7, and considering switching from gas to electric lest you become the Sim that sets themselves on fire while trying to make dinner.
-Burnt Orange Nation talks with Kirk Bohls of the Austin Statesman, America’s most upright and respectable-sounding daily. He’s-prepare yourself-scared of blogs, though he makes an exception for Peter and the boys.
-Someone thinks Charlie Weis is “arrogant.” Judging by the comments thread, that someone probably “looks a lot like Wilford Brimley.”
-SMQ continues his impressive death slog through all 117 D-1 teams. If he’s still typing at the beginning of the season, we’ll buy him a bundt cake.
-If none of the above amuses you, the laughing yogi should.
Have a superb holiday weekend-we’ll be out Monday, so just watch that laughing yogi thing if you want to know what we’re thinking.
We were around twelve years old when the video came in the mail: NFL’s “Crunch Course,” the freebie a subscription to Sports Illustrated got you in the football phone giveaway days. (”Yeah, honey-it’s a football…and a phone! I’M NOT KIDDING!”) In pre-internet, pre-126 channel cable days, an effective strategy for whiling the afternoon away when you didn’t want to be climbing trees, learning something, or otherwise expending precious effort was watching videotapes repeatedly until the tape broke. The only provision was that the movie in question be so irredeemably entertaining that 382 consecutive viewings would only enhance the beauty of the images strobing out of the electron gun and onto the screen. This sounds like a problem until you remember that 12 year olds have very, very low standards of entertainment, and will do anything to avoid productive behavior.
It’s a football…and a phone!
Crunch Course had addiction written all over it-it elicited oohs and aahs we didn’t even know were coming from our mouth. (When we had insomnia we’d watch it, which combined with the noises probably convinced Mom that we’d started masturbating, and that knocking would be a prerequisite from that point on. )
The video represented NFL films attempt to capture all of the mid-80s badasses of football in one slow motion paean to XYY males: Howie Long, Lawrence Taylor, and most movingly, Walter Payton. His segment of the film portrayed him as the dimunitive, devastating right hand of an angry Jehovah bent on jacking linebackers in the jaw until the world was free of sin. It also burned a blueprint of his absolute invincibility on our hard drive; when we watched his press conference years later, the one where Payton announced he was dying, a reporter asked him if he was scared. He started crying in response, and we couldn’t help but weep on sight, too. Reconciling the image of the emaciated man wearing sunglasses and crying his eyes dry on national television with the shots of Payton clad in a tank top and his trademark ‘Roos doing wind sprints up a hill shredded by years of workouts-we couldn’t ever really make the two cohere. In fact, we’re still not totally convinced he’s not going to come in the door, stiff arm us in the face, and hitch-step his way out the door.
Still not dead.
The film, though, brought one thing home powerfully to our young brain. Sport, more than theater, more than film, more than any other form of what you might call visual entertainment, was truly random and unpredictable. (more…)
Michael Hiestand’s sports television column in USA Today manages to top out the maximum score for “most informative column written about least informative medium” on a monthly basis, making his predecessor Rudy Martzke look like the dog-track dwelling underbeing he is in comparison. (Martzke was best known for cracking on Pam Oliver’s clothes, which is a bad idea since Pam could beat him bloody with hand tied behind her back.)
Hiestand’s latest-playing catch-up here-Keith Jackson really does wield Godlike powers, since his rec of Dan Fouts-his color guy on ABC in the era prior to his retirement-got Fouts the job for the fall as the play-by-play announcer for ABC’s afternoon games this fall. Tim Brant will join him as color analyst. Fouts’ mighty beard will take over telestrator duties and provide occasional sideline support.
Mmmm. Beardy.
Paul MacGuire Maguire, part of the Sunday Night NFL crew generally regarded as a smug blight on the cable dial, will be divorced from his tumultous marriage with neurotic wife Joe Theismann at last and sent to work with the Nessler and Bob Griese on Saturday afternoons. Look up avuncular, and you will find Maguire’s picture; look up “cranky,” and you will find Bob Greise. Which brings up the obvious question: what angry god did Nessler spite to deserve this degree of punishment? We’re giving odds on when Griese drops an audible “please just shut the fuck up” to Maguire’s chipper patter: email us to place your bets. (We’re betting third week of October.)
See the full scoreboard, including a picture of Mr. Butterworth himself, here.
A few notes and clarifications:
-Alabama will likely be bumped down to two points pending the ongoing events in the Juwan Simpson case. Or be given eight points when it turns out to be some outlandish conspiracy involving Nazi gold, Mike Shula, bootleg Kazakh uranium, and the Shroud of Turin. We’re still not sure at this point.
-Indiana makes a strong debut with four points thanks to a wide receiver allegedly slapping his girlfriend and their baby. Should this turn out to just be your regular, run-of-the-mill baby-slapping incident without charges, the Hoosiers will do exactly what they do during the season: put up a donut in the scoring department.
-If we’re counting on anyone to make a late push for significant points, it’s Marshall. Herdistan hasn’t let us down before, and with Joe Tiller cracking down at Purdue it’s unlikely the Boilermakers will see anything more in the way of substantial points. Two or three more Playstation thefts and this thing could be theirs for the taking.
-Tennessee, who finally got on the board with a single point for Marvin Mitchell’s disorderly conduct arrest, still lags well behind in the standings. Also, we still haven’t seen a single point from FSU or Miami, phenomenal streaks for two very “spirited” teams. While the 7th Floor Crew just doesn’t seem to have the chemistry of past years, we still hold out hope for a substantial score from FSU-after all, Bonnaroo is just a few weeks away!
Dr. George O’Leary, one time football coach at Notre Dame and prominent philosopher, mathematician and theologian (according to his CV), has been granted a major contract extension to continue coaching the Golden Knights of Central Florida. O’Leary is due to make a cool million next season which will escalate up to 1.55 million by 2015.
After a successful second season, O’Leary upped the ante by employing Urban Meyers patented pointing techniques.
The Big 12’s holding their annual meeting at the Broadmoor in Colorado. Strangely, at a luxury hotel with yard-long beers, the commissioners have gotten very little done.
Beer: not conducive to productivity.
