Oh, That Is Rich....

So Rich Rodriquez allegedly ran players through their paces in excess of NCAA guidelines while at Michigan last year. According to a Detroit Free Press expose (yes, they are still printing) several disgruntled ex-players spilled the beans about Rich-Rod's sadistic schedule.

Could the players just hold a grudge? Naaahhhh. Rich Rod is a man of unquestioned integrity. He's a pillar of honesty and letter-of-the-law kind of guy. (Sarcasm=ON)

On December 16, 2007, Rodriguez informed players at West Virginia that he was leaving to succeed Lloyd Carr as the University of Michigan head football coach. The announcement of his departure came just four months after Rodriguez last renegotiated his contract with West Virginia, and was made despite his stated long-term commitment to the Mountaineers. The contract included a $4 million buyout if he left WVU within one year of the August 2007 signing date.

Of course, when push came to shove, Rich-Rod tried to weasel out of the explicit buyout clause, because hey, why should that apply to HIM?

On the one hand, I know that "everybody does it" in college football. The sport is nothing short of a professional enterprise, only the players don't get squat. You can't have a decent D-1 team if you go specifically by every single little aspect of the rules.

On the other hand, how embarrassing is it that Michigan still went 3-9 with possible extra practice and work?

This would be like the Detroit Lions getting a phone call from Brett Favre in an attempt to reveal sensitive game plans, and STILL getting roasted.

Oh, wait. That did happen.

Yay, state of Michigan! Is there anything else that can go south?

Surf and F'ing Turf. Yeahhhhh!

At the risk of sounding like Peter King here, I must give you a Czabe version “Enjoyable/Aggravating Travel Tip of the Week.”

11:20 a.m. - Newburyport, NH

We've just jetted down I-95 from Bangor International Airport in our rented mini-van. Me, my wife, my two daughters, and my two nephews. My sister-in-law and her husband got a week at home alone, while the lil' monsters stayed a week longer in Maine to attend camp.

(Note to self: invoice for the kid wrangling once we are home.)

Prior to leaving their retirement cottage in Bar Harbor, I engaged in a spirited father/son-in-law argument over how long it would take to get to Boston for our absurdly cheap JetBlue flight back to Dulles ($89 each way).

I said: “Without traffic, 4 hours or less, no problem.”

Pops, rolling his eyes in disgust, jabbed back... “Look. It's 5 hours, maybe more! Saturday is a 'change day' up here, and there's going to be lots of traffic.”

With my pops-in-law, there is ALWAYS going to be traffic. And with him, the amount of traffic only comes in one size: “alot.”

There is never a “chance” of traffic, or “some” or even “light” traffic. Nope. It's gonna be a lot. Always.

“Dad, it's 244 miles, almost all highway, I checked it on my iPhone” I insisted. “Of course we're not going to sleep in, but I think we are fine.”

My dad threw his hands up and turned away. Serves me right for arguing with a local.

Anyway, back to our trip. We've just clicked through mile 204 and it's time for lunch. Time check: 2 hours and 41 minutes. In my head, I channel my best Degeneration X signature crotch chop with a “SUCK IT!” for my dad.

I do it in my head because I do love him. But I love being right even more.

If I wanted, we could plow through to Logan International and punch a ticket for 3:45 door to door. I could then call him, hand the phone to a stranger with a thick BAH-stahn accent and say: “Here, tell this guy what time it is here.”

Nah. Time to clear the bench and let the scrubs play. No need to run up the score.

PS: Change day traffic was as non-existent as A-Rod in October.

We find a strip mall and decide to try a little franchise place called “D'Angelo's Grilled Sandwiches.” Looks like a stepped up Subway. I'm pumped.

On the menu is a nice array of just what the name implied. Cheesesteaks, meatball subs, cold sandwiches, the works. Nice.

But oh.... hellooooo... what do .. we... have... heeeere?

“Surf and Turf Special: $12.95”

Can you say “5-inch lobster sandwich with 5 inch cheesesteak?”

What a score!

If you've been to the northeast, you've probably had a lobster roll or “sandwich.” It's all the good part of the lobster (i.e. meat) soaked in mayo and stuffed in a special half-roll, half bread cradle. They also throw lettuce in there, but I waive that player like Cuttino Mobley in a 3-team deal before he even takes a physical with my team.

In short, it kicks ass.

But most lobster roll sandwiches around touristy Bar Harbor, run 12-15 bucks alone. This one was every bit as good, but had an awesome cheeseteak thrown in as part of the deal.

Shwing!

I know that 14 bucks is a lot to pay for a “sandwich lunch” but if we had a D'Angelos in my area (and I don't think we do) I might wear that special out. I could easily see myself snagging that double-double 3 or 4 times a week.

Easy.

Apparently, D'Angelos's is also the “Official” sandwich shop of the Boston Red Sox. And as such, they have a cool logo that reads “Lobster Nation” but with the red socks replaced with lobster claws. If they had a t-shirt with that, I would have bought two on the spot.

Okay, that's all I got. Now, back to random football thoughts like Peter King.

“You know, I think Tom Cable is walking a fine but jagged line of sanity in Oakland, judging by his first month of camp.....”

Man, I should really get a gig like King's. This is fun!

Philly Rehab

I used to respect Donovan McNabb. A lot.

Not anymore.

The more I heard him talk about his role in bringing Vick to the Eagles, the more disgusted I got. And it has nothing – nothing – to do with Vick and his dogfighting.

On that front, the guy has paid a huge price, and one he deserved to pay because of his own arrogance. So I reject Commissar Goodell's micromanaging the return by saying he'll “review” the case at some point about 6 weeks into the season to give him full clearance.

Vick should be cleared to play now. Period.

But he should be brought in to a team for purely football reasons only. Not the mushy rehabilitation theme that McNabb has struck up for a fellow, former Pro-Bowl, black quarterback.

Oh. Whoops. Was that the race card? Sorry. Slipped out.

But since it's on the felt table, let's just play the hand, shall we?

Does anybody really think McNabb would go out of his way to lobby for a competitor to his job if it was … oh.... say.... Jake Delhomme, the disgraced former Super Bowl QB who grew up with dogfighting on the bayou but is now really, really, really sorry?

I didn't think so.

So that's fine, McNabb is on a “help-a-brotha-out” tour here, and that's his own risky game to play. It might work out. Or not.

I see one of the following things happening.

1. Vick returns and is a modestly exciting, part-time, wildcat QB who scores one TD, but otherwise is a non-factor. He stays out of trouble.
2. Vick is used briefly in wildcat situations, is counter-productive, and shelved as the backup. Season ends quietly, never needing him.
3. Vick is used as an injury replacement to McNabb for 2-4 games, and he's.. um... not good. Period. Experiment ends after the season, everybody wishes him luck.
4. Vick is used as an injury replacement to McNabb for 2-4 games and he's... AWESOME! Now, there's serious question about whom to keep going forward.
5. Vick gets in trouble again off the field, everybody is embarrassed, and he's suspended again.

Now from a football standpoint, I just don't see much upside in any of these scenarios. And my gut says that #'s 1&2 are more likely than 4&5 but we'll see.

There is a longshot scenario, one Eagle fan posed to me... It goes something like this: Eagles shine up the rusty quarter, and trade him next year as a good citizen and QB ready to start for a 2nd or 3rd round pick. I doubt this entirely, because of how lukewarm the compensation was for a guy like Matt Cassell without all the baggage.

The bigger picture is this: McNabb has been one of the most prickly, sissy-ish, starting QB's when it comes to looking over his shoulder. A guy who clearly chafed at the Eagles using a #2 on Kevin Kolb, suddenly now is lobbying to bring in Vick?

McNabb's reasons are almost purely personal and social. The whole “he's paid his debt” and I have a “personal relationship” with him things.

From a pure football standpoint, I think the reasons are very fishy, at best.

Amazing too, that McNabb was already nearly on the curb this past season, and for the two years before that.. To think he could actually be successful in bringing Vick in for his own reasons, is a stunner in its own right.

If you are Vick, you better thank your lucky stars that Tony Dungy and Donovan McNabb put so much personal capital into your comeback.

If you are an Eagle fan, however, it's hard to respect McNabb for this move. If the socially minded QB had just been able to hit wide open receivers on crossing patterns last January in Arizona, they might have been in the Super Bowl.

Oh well. Vick's rehabilitation is very important to McNabb, so the fans are just going to have to sit down in back and shut the hell up.

King Douchebag

Ha. Fooled, ya. Didn't he?

Well, not me. Or a handful of others in the national sports media.

But he still got about 90% of the suckas out there. In fact, I don't recall a SINGLE “expert” employed by ESPN saying a month ago “hang on, folks. This ain't over, until it's over.”

But I did. In fact, I called it almost exactly. I said: “It's not that he doesn't want to play for the Vikings, it's that he doesn't want to have to go to training camp.”

Quote... un-quote.

Well then, look at the timing.

So now Favre enters a whole new orbit of self-absorbed douchebaggery, one in which he will almost certainly retire the trophy forever.

Let me now unload a shag bag of random thoughts about all of this, and let you good folks pick from what you like....

Thought #1: How orchestrated was all of this?

It's possible, that this entire scenario was cooked up from the very first conversation. Get the existing roster used to the possibility of Favre well in advance. Make it seem like it's a really tough decision. Delay, delay, and delay. Ensure he somehow misses camp. Then..... to quote John Madden.. BOOM! There he is!

Thought #2: Good thing the NFL isn't run like most fantasy leagues.

Because if it was, there would be fucking upheaval right now. Let's review: Team A who hold the rights to Player X, refuses to re-install Player X as starting quarterback after he “retires.” Team A also refuses to release Player X outright. (Hey, rights are rights. You'd be nuts to just give them away for nothing). Team A then negotiates trade of Player X to Team B, with strict stipulations. If Team B then turns around and trades Player X to Team C (in Division) then Team B owes Team A THREE #1 draft picks.

So after one year of lukewarm enthusiasm with Team B, Player X decides to “retire” again.

INEXPLICABLY, TEAM B THEN GRANTS PLAYER X HIS OUTRIGHT RELEASE!!!!

Uh, hello. Where the FUCK is the commissioner of this league!? If Roger Goodell ran my fantasy league, he'd have to get an unlisted number at this point.

Do the rules of the league, and player rights by teams mean ANYTHING anymore? Or do certain “superstars” merit transparent end-runs around such rules?

It's clear now that Team B (Jets) knew that it couldn't do anything with Player X because he would only play in the one place that would cost them 3 draft picks, so they just washed their hands.

Roger Goodell. You sir, suck.

Thought #3: When are Sage and Tavaris going to grow a pair?

I'm disappointed that in this day and age of hyper-political correctness in sports, neither one of these guys just flat out said: “This is a joke. The guy is entitled to come here and compete for a job, but at least show up for camp and sweat like the rest of us. Besides, the guy has a torn shoulder that's been stitched back together, and he's faded in the second half of every season the last 5 years. The guy's a legend, but he's had his time. This is a farce. But, whatever. Rah, rah, team.”

So what's the worst that could happen? They release you? Sage has guaranteed money, and you know he's bound for at least another 2 NFL teams before he's finally done holding a clipboard. And Jackson's gonna be cut anyway.

So come out and blast this clown, and earn some street cred with those of us out here who are just begging for somebody in sports to drop the politically correct crap out of fear of being ripped yourself.

Thought #4: Is Peter King capable of being embarrassed?

Think of it this way: nobody throated Favre more than King in the print media the last 10 years. Nobody pretended he was on a buddy-buddy level with Favre more than King. Nobody casually mentioned cell phone calls, or text messages with the guy more than Mr. Coffeenerdness.

And yet.... NOBODY has MISSED this story more badly than King.

Nobody.

It's like he keeps getting scooped, and scooped, and scooped, and scooped. And I wonder: does he know how stupid he looks? Does he care?

Thought #5: Does Favre have an image consultant?

The ultra-dirty hat. The perma-gray-stubble beard. It's such a “good look” for a “legendary” QB who is trying to “turn back the hands of father time” for one more run, isn't it?

Too good of a look?

Did Favre even once think: “You know, I'm reporting to Vikings camp today. Better shower and shave, and at the very least, throw on a decent ballcap.”

Or was it the opposite. “Deanna, get me that grimy cap from the basement! Yeah, that's the one! And here, is my stubble nice and gray? Good....”

Let's roll.....

So off we go. And sadly, some people whom I am losing respect for by the minute are now proclaiming the Vikings as “the team to beat in the NFC.”

AHEM..... cough... COUGH!.... Ron Jaworski... COUGH....

Rooting against them, and him, will be a sweet pleasure this year.

Game on.

Jurassic Park Politics

I've been sitting back on my plastic-weave folding lawn chair the last few weeks, watching Our Dear Leader's health care plan turn into a demolition derby on 5-cent Jack Daniels night at the local dirt track.

Ah, such fun.

Anyway, I came across a nice analogy about how government (big or small) is capable of jacknifing a one-car parade with a VW Beetle when it tries to do anything more than just collect our taxes and keep the lights on in America.

This from "Deconstructing Obama" by Dr. Zero over at Hotair.com.

"The history of price controls and government subsidies is an unbroken tale of misery and failure. Applying price controls to a complex product, such as medicine, is like trying to clutch a fist full of water. The only predictable result will be the dumb amazement of the politicians, when they find themselves trapped in the Jurassic Park of inevitable statist failure, with the laws of supply and demand coming at them like hungry velociraptors."

REACT: Perfect. And it had never crossed my mind. Like Jurassic Park, most government fantasies are scaled to ridiculous proportions, and usually begin to fly apart at the inevitable law of un-intended consequences. (What? The velociraptors have learned how to beat the electric fence? Ohhhh... shit!)

Now, if only we could get Jeff Goldblum to mutter incoherently under his breath about "public options" and "town hall" and "Blue Dogs..." until he's a stark eyed pants quivering mess.

"Rock Bottom" Lobster

Welcome to my vacation in lovely Bar Harbor, Maine. Where the in-laws are friendly, and the lobster is plentiful.

And cheap!

Or so you would think!

This Wall Street Journal article shows the fallout from the recession. People just ain't buying the luxury crustaceon like they used to!

"Lobstermen are getting paid around $2.50 a pound for soft-shell lobster this summer. Just two years ago, the average price was $4.43, according the state's Department of Marine Resources. Lobster prices often fluctuate, getting higher in the winter when weather conditions make it harder to fish, and lower in the summer. But last fall, prices dropped sharply, and have only slightly recovered."

"They've always said that lobster follows the stock market," because people treat themselves to lobster meals when they're feeling prosperous, said Neal Workman, president of the Fisheries Exchange, a company that advises seafood dealers.


I've always had a love/hate with lobster. On the one hand, I love shellfish. All of them. Especially crab and lobster. But whenever I splurge for some sweet LOB, I end up afterward thinking "that was a waste of money. I should have just dipped some chicken in butter."

I would never, ever, ever eat lobster without the sweet butter dipper. Why? I just wouldn't. Like I wouldn't eat blue crab without little sprinkles of Old Bay spice. So with lobster, perhaps the fish is nothing more than a "delivery system for butter." And an expensive one at that.

I will try to drive a hard bargain this week on vacation in regard to lobster prices. I may just walk up to one of the many local lobster pounds and say: "How about 3 bucks for that lobster. $5 if you cook it for me."

And just see what they say.

In a related story, the alligator skinnin' biz in Loooo-eeeeesssianana aint' doin' too good neither.

Today's "Special"

Either Rick Pitino is a horrible "friend" for letting his equipment manager marry an emotionally unstable cougar like Karen Sypher, or she's making every thing up. All I know is this: the Pope is canceling his Mega March Madness package at the Vatican.

That said... there's a hot new "dish" in town...

P O R C I N I ’ s
New Entree:
Aged red snapper, stuffed with Italian Sausage,

All you can drink red wine.

* * Only available after normal business hours

The Worst Swing I've Ever Seen

And one of the best guys I know! Go figure.

Aaron Artru and his band of merry golfing men have bid to play in my foursome at the Bob and Brian Open golf tournament, benefitting the MAACC Fund for 4 straight years now.

They are, in short, a funny-ass bunch of everyday middle-aged married working (okay, a few are laid off currently) dudes who love to drink beer and play bad golf.

Actually, let me check that. The boys played GREAT this year with me!

We were -13 and one shot out of 1st place! Derrick Schultz was ripping drives, Rob Igl was money on iron shots, and Aaron made no less than 5 of our birdie putts, including 3 of the first 4 we looked at!

And there was Brad, who was a newbie in the foursome who wore a PLAIN WHITE T-SHIRT to the event, because he claimed "it was the only thing clean" on his floor that morning!

Great times, and for a great cause.

Now enjoy Aaron's awesome swing, in super-slo-mo courtesy my Casio EFX-1 camera.

OxyClean Was The Only "Oxy" He Wasn't Ingesting..... We Think

Whoa, Billy Mays!

Looks like his sudden and tragic death at the age of 50 was not just "one of those things that could happen to anybody."

Toxicology reports on Mays revealed the following drugs....

Hydrocodone (Vicodin),
Oxycodone (painkiller)
Alprazolam (Xanax)
Nordiazepam (Valium)
Temazepam (anti-anxiety)

alcohol....

and Benzoylecgonine (a byproduct of cocaine).

Which puts Mays into the pantheon of Anna Nicole Smith, Heath Ledger, and Michael Jackson in terms of being a walking pharmacy.

Not that we are a nation that is on a runaway train of anti-depressant use and plastic surgery. Naaaahhhh....

There was this nugget I read recently which stuck in my head...


The number of Americans taking antidepressants doubled to 10.1 percent of the population in 2005 compared with 1996, increasing across income and age groups, a study found. An estimated 27 million Americans ages 6 and older were taking the drugs by 2005, while their use of psychotherapy declined, according to Columbia University researchers. The findings highlight the need for doctors who are not psychiatrists and prescribe the medicines to be trained to diagnose and manage depression so patients get the most effective treatment, said the study’s lead author.

Now, let me be clear. I know plenty about this subject from first hand experience. While I am not on any mood altering drugs, I know several extended family members who are. And trust me, they are LIVE SAVING, quality enhancing miracles.

You can't just say "take a brisk walk and think happy thoughts."

That said, the increasingly easy recreational use of these drugs does seem to be picking up tempo. And if you are rich, famous or both, you can certainly "afford" to start poppin' the pills like tic-tacs.

Until you drop dead, that is.

Analogy Fail

Recently, when Barack Obama was pushing the challenging but - he thinks - do-able task of re-arranging massive aspects of the entire health care industry in America, he invoked the Apollo 11 space mission to use as a comparative rallying point.

Uhhhh... try again.

To think that the Apollo 11 mission and ObamaCare are comparable in the least, is a joke. Analogy = FAIL.

The reasons are simple.

Yes, it took Uncle Sam's wallet to fund NASA and the people in charge of putting us on the moon. Yes, it took JFK's stated mission to land on the moon as a generational challenge to official put us on the clock. Yes, it also took Russians working hard in their own backyard on the thing to prompt us along.

But after all that, it took a room full of extremely smart - likely, brilliant - scientists and mathemeticians to get Messers Armstrong, Aldrin, and Collins up and back without a scratch.

The people who populate Congress are not that smart.

Not by a moon shot.

On a good day, our politicians are stupid, lazy, corrupt, and horny. Don't ask about all their other days. The men in charge of the Apollo 11 mission wake up smarter than 99% of us will ever be on our best day.

Plus, the moon landing was relatively simple compared to overhauling the most complex part of our trillion dollar economy. Moon landings are math. Health care is complicated choices, the vagaries of personal habits and genetics, and limited resources.

Lastly, whether or not Neil Armstrong came back to earth as a national hero, or a crispy burnt chicken nugget in a tin can, didn't matter personally to every working person in America. Sure, we'd have been sad. Very sad. But we'd press on. Like after the Challenger disaster.

The cost of botching Apollo 11 was relatively low. Would we be embarrassed as a nation? Maybe. Would we lose some good, good men? Maybe. But in all likelyhood, we'd have a line of even braver men volunteering for the next mission to the moon, because that's how we roll.

And we'd have figured it out.

Good luck on fixing our complex health care system if the Democrats succeed in breaking it totally. Is it perfect now? Hell no. Nobody said that. But government's ability to complete fuck something up, is beyond debate.

Rasmussen Reports said back in February that "voters strongly agree with the perspective that “No matter how bad things are, Congress can always find a way to make them worse.” Fifty-eight percent (58%) share that view, and only 26% disagree."

This was before the $787 StimuFail package, and the now hilarious dog-chasing-his-tail economic policy of "Cash for Clunkers."

So stop the moon landing thing. As an analogy, it blows up on the launch pad. Government didn't put us on the moon, scientists did. And we paid for it anyway.

The Numbers Sometimes Lie, But You Still Have To Listen

Athletes will sometimes scold the fans by saying "It's not all about the numbers."

That usually lasts right up until same athlete produces numbers that he and his agent now claim are the keys to Fort Knox.

Consider the case of Redskins free agent defensive end Andre Carter. David Elfin of the Washington Times has an interesting take on this Dan Snyder purchase that is neither boom nor bust.

Carter defies easy classification on the free agent scorecard.

On the one hand, he's a noticeable liability against the run. He has produced double-digit sacks just once since arriving, and there have been few games where any Redskin fan has raved "Man, Carter is just dominating this game!"

On the other hand, he hasn't missed a game since arriving here, and has been no worse than tied for the team lead in sacks at the end of each year, and the 8th best run defense couldn't have sucked that much with him starting every game last year at defensive end.

Personally, I like Carter. I like his attitude, he sense of responsibility, the fact he won't duck the media, and is cut like a Roman football god. And as far as Danny/Vinny free agent purchases go, he's not even close to being in the Bottom 10.

That being said, I must take exception to this quote from defensive coordinator Greg Blache: "People base success on sacks alone, and that's not what it's about," said Blache, who added that Carter led the team with 16 hurries and was often just a half-step late. "We're trying to make something that's mostly an art into a science. Putting numbers to it just doesn't work. They didn't paint the Mona Lisa by numbers. They didn't paint the Sistine Chapel by numbers. Numbers are for the idiots that can't paint."

In the case of defensive ends in the NFL, I actually DO think it's pretty much all about your ability to get to the quarterback and take him down. Period. Just like a wide receiver's job is to catch the ball and get into the end zone. Period.

Some positions are more nuanced in the NFL, but not defensive end. Get to the damn QB and cause havoc.

Sure, you can't be just a coin-seeking stat whore like Bruce Smith was in his dying days. You have to be CREDIBLE against the run. But few defensive ends in this league brag about themselves as being all about stopping the run. Those guys are called "back ups."

I also realize how freaking hard it is to actually register a sack. With all the pass-ditching-friendly rules in place now, the absurd narrowing of the QB's "strike zone", and advent of shot-gun based West Coast offenses with snap releases, I'm amazed anybody can record 10+ sacks in a year.

But it does happen, and guys that can do it (Jared Allen, Jevon Kearse, et. al.) can pretty much mint their own gold coins.

We shall see what kind of year Carter has this season. Can he go another 16-for-16? Will newcomer Brian Orakpo steal sacks from him, or generate more chances by blitzing from the LB position?

Will Haynesworth's numbers be modest, while Carter's explodes?

In all, a good read, and worthy football "food for thought."

Move Over Carolyn, I'm Ready!

I'm not saying the LPGA Tour is desperate in the wake of shit-canning Commish Carolyn Bivens in mid-season, but somebody tipped me off to the fact that the LPGA has a page where you can submit a RESUME FOR THE JOB on their website.

Hold on, I'm putting the finishing touches on mine. You should have it by close of business. I'll be waiting for that call to set up my follow up interview.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>

John Daly: pants act.

Shoots a cool 88 on Friday at the Grand Blanc Pitch N' Putt, which includes a 51 on the front!

Here's Daly's card for Round 2:

1 quint, (on a par 5 no less)
1 quad on a par3
1 triple
2 doubles
2 bogeys
2 birdies

Oh yeah, he was also seen partying at Kid Rock's place this week. Fabulous. Tim Finchem, call your office.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

One last golf snicky for your weekend, somebody send me this cute lil' TwitPic of my girls Paula Creamer and Morgan Pressel at the Evian Masters. Oowww. Sweet.

Cankle Nation

Even though there's a recession going on and un-employment is steaming toward double-digits, thank God America can still obsess about things that are utterly trivial.

Like "cankles."

Apparently, anti-cankle fitness regimes and products are all the rage. For those that don't know what "cankle" is, it's when a person's calf just melts right into their ankle, without any definition.

I believe - although I may be proven wrong - that John Madden gave the world this term, or at least injected it into the pop culture. Writes a message board poster to a Fanhouse article about the "Ground Zero" man with "cankles" Jeff Zgonina...

My favorite Madden moment is when he was spending ten minutes explaining to Pat Summerall what "cankles" were. He started drawing circles around Zgonina's legs. "Ya see... you've got your calf and BOOM! it just goes straight into the foot. It's a calf and an ankle. Cankle. Boom!"

Now plenty of football players have cankles. That much you expect. But what about women? And what can you do about them?

Well, I thought that it was a simple matter of losing some weight, you water buffaloes! But not... so... fast!

Ever seen a SIZE ZERO woman with cankles?

Well... BOOM! Now you have!



Personally, I'm not too worried about my cankles. For one, "teacher arms" and "FUPA's" are much more of a concern on a lady, if you ask me. Also, the dreaded "drawstring upper lip" from too much smoking is quite the turn off.

"Now Batting For the Boston Dandies...."

Sometimes, other people's stuff is just so good, there's no point in trying to steal it, re-write it, or otherwise riff on it.

Just enjoy it.

Me, I'm taking the day off, bitches.

From What Would Tyler Durden Do?..... the writers take on the 51st Hollywood Stars celebrity softball game at Dodger Stadium....

The biggest “stars” on hand were Joel Madden, Rob Lowe and Larry King. Whats that? Yes, yes that’s correct. Larry King. He even went to the plate and somehow his ancient brittle bones didn’t explode into dust when he swung the bat.

Him being there made it look like a reunion game from back before black people were allowed to play. If he had a rookie card it would just been a drawing because pictures were still considered the dark arts, and he’d have mutton chop sideburns and one of those big mustaches that curl up at the end. And it would have been for some insane sounding team that you’ve never fucking heard of. The Boston Dandies, or the Rochester Rowderfoots, or some shit like that.

This Was Purely Idiotic. Sorry.

Look, I'm sorry Vernon Forrest is dead. But sometimes you just have to shake your head.

And trust me when I say that I am not in any way claming Forrest "deserved it."

As Clint Eastwood said in his Oscar winning film “The Unforgiven” just before he shoots Gene Hackman- “Deserving ain’t got nothing to do with it”.

Here's the recap from the Atlanta Journal Constitution....

According to Atlanta Police Detective Lt. Keith Meadows, Forrest had stopped at a gas station on Whitehall Street around 11 p.m. Saturday night. With him was his 11-year-old godson, visiting from Texas.

As the boy went inside to use the bathroom and buy snacks, Forrest went to the rear of his Jaguar to add air to a low tire. It was then when a male suspect robbed him at gunpoint and fled.

Forrest, reportedly armed, chased after the man a short distance, to an area near McDaniel and Fulton streets. Shots were exchanged, police said. Giving up the chase, and turning to return to the gas station, Forrest was shot seven to eight times in the back, according to police.

Police say the shooter and a second suspect left in a red Monte Carlo.

“Vernon always was the type of guy who wasn’t going to let anybody take anything from him,” Watson said. “He would give you the shirt off his back, but if you tried to take something from him, he was going to fight you for it.”

Atlanta’s other boxing champion, Evander Holyfield, recalled a story from the 1992 Olympics. When a thief snatched the cap from atop his head, Forrest ran after him through the streets of Barcelona. “Chased him about a half a mile. Got his hat back. And got in a few punches too,” said Holyfield, chuckling at the memory from another place, another time.

REACT: Ha, ha. Good times, good times. Of course, that same "chase and punch" policy can get you killed. And - I hate to be a nag here - if you extend that policy to "chase and shoot" then you can end up killing innocent bystanders.

Ah. Details. Never mind.

I wonder if Forrest had managed to gun down his attacker a block from the station, while shooting him in the back? Would this be considered "self-defense?"

I am certainly not against gun ownership. But this ain't the Wild West anymore. And there's always a bigger tough guy with a longer rap sheet ready to pop your ass while jumping out of the shadows.

Oh.... My... Gawd!

Why in the HELL didn't anybody tell me about this?

Natalie Gulbis, Dara Torres, AND Erin Andrews at the ESPY's, all dressed to kill?

WHY DID YOU PEOPLE HIDE THIS FROM ME!!!!!!

The mind reels with the possibilities. My world, may never be the same. Enjoy.

Stupid Is, As Stupid Does

Talk about a double-double! Police AND doctors, oh my!

Barack "The Leg Tingler" Obama managed to ridiculously slander two of the most admired professions in one ill-conceived press conference meant to leverage his impatience over lanquishing health care reform in Congress.

Good work, Barry.

Can we all pause for a moment to consider this much: our president admits "I don't know all the facts" but then goes on to call some of our men in blue "stupid."

What about this guy's supposedly supreme "temperament" and "judgment?"

At least he let slip with the real truth: he'll always throw in with a brother, circumstances be damned!

Reverend Jeremiah Wright, where you at?

Smack! HI FIVE!

Not only is this racially trigger haired professor a complete joke, but he happened to accuse the only cop on the beat who personally tried to save Reggie Lewis' life!


The Cambridge cop prominent Harvard University professor Henry Louis Gates Jr. claims is a racist gave a dying Reggie Lewis mouth-to-mouth resuscitation in a desperate bid to save the Celtics [team stats] superstar’s life 16 years ago Monday.

“I wasn’t working on Reggie Lewis the basketball star. I wasn’t working on a black man. I was working on another human being,” Sgt. James Crowley, in an exclusive interview with the Herald, said of the forward’s fatal heart attack July 27, 1993, at age 27 during an off-season practice at Brandeis University, where Crowley was a campus police officer.

Ha! Good job, mom jeans! Anything more you'd like to say?

Oh yeah, there's those evil doctors who are looking to swap out your kid's tonsils so they can make their Lexus payments!

(That's a great anecdote! So true, too! I had that happen to me with my kids the other day!

I'm like: "Soooo... whattya think, doc?"

He looks at his Rolex, puts on his golf shoes, and tries to sell my 6-year old a tonsilectomy, implants, and full course of collagen and botox.

Fucking doctors. What assholes they all are. It's politicians I trust! We need another Czar!)

Holy, christ! So THIS is what the 150-day-wonder lets come shooting out of his mouth when the magic teleprompter isn't spewing out focus-group-tested whoppers?

No wonder he never goes anywhere without TOTUS. It's going to be a long, long, four years for him to keep his REAL feelings hidden from the public.

But just remember. Bush was the stupid one. This guy's brilliant.

UPDATE: An even better point I found here at JustOneMinute.com....

CHANGING TIMES: Between the Ricci case in New Haven and the stupid Cambridge cops, we have come a long way from 9/11 and the national admiration for New York's Finest and Bravest. Of course, by "we" I don't mean all of "we", just the usual suspects of the left and (pardon my redundancy) the media.

The Mother of All Grudges

I was talking yesterday on the air about men who hold grudges against other men. In short, how long should you hold them, what merits a grudge, what is excusable after a reasonable amount of time, and what categories of transgressions are utterly inexcusable.

This was in wake of my admission that a variety of golf buddies/associates/tournament participants who had gained status on my supreme "shit list" had been given blanket amnesty.

Life it too short, real world concerns too many, and the transgressions over stupid golf trips and tournaments past too petty.

So I started thinking about sports "grudges" that once were, or perhaps still remain. A few off the top of my head include ....

Terry Bradshaw's estrangement from the Steelers.
Ditto Sam Huff with the Giants.
Gary McCord and the Masters.
USA Silver medals sitting in that Swiss vault
The city of Baltimore and the Colts/Irsay
Any MLB bean ball/strike breaker

And then there was this beauty from my guy Mike Kubacheck

Czabe,
In all my adult life, there are only 2 people that I was friends with where I eventually decided that the friendship wasn't worth the baggage that came with them..... the first one, though, finally turned because of football...... this guy Bob was a Philly fan, and he had a temper (go figure!!)..

We (wife and I) used to socialize with him and his wife, but increasingly we felt like we had to tiptoe around Bob and his temper, and it got to be less fun hanging with them..... so, we were over at their house watching the Skins-Eagles game, and I made the offhand comment that Andre Waters was a dirty player......

Bob EXPLODED, started yelling about what bull that was, and said that "only people who know nothing about football, or ONLY watch Monday Night Football, would say that", referencing all the crap that Dierdorf used to give Waters......

So, I said I felt it was well known that Waters took cheap shots when he could, he yelled "OK..... NAME FIVE TIMES WHERE HE CHEAPSHOTTED SOMEONE!!!!!"...... not 1, or 2, but 5 times, I was supposed to name...... because I usually only watched the Redskins, I could only name the 2 hits on Doug Williams, plus a hit on Jim Everett......

So he took that as a victory and that I didn't know what I was talking about.... that was the last time I ever saw him.....

REACT: And probably a good idea. Wow. They didn't call him Andre "The Honest Hit" Waters, did they?

Those Horse Vasectomies Aren't Going To Pay For Themselves!

If you only read one article all year, please read this one. Hilarity, mixed with ineptitude, slathered in total waste.

Yea! America!

From Mark Steyn of the National Review Online....

"On Friday July 17, the House of Representatives met to debate . . . Go on, take a guess: Health care? The cap-and-tax racket? Stimulus Two? No, none of the above. Don’t worry, they’re still spending your money. Wild horses couldn’t stop them doing that.

And, as a matter of fact, that’s the correct answer: wild horses. On Friday, the House voted on the Restore Our American Mustangs Act — or ROAM. Like all acronymically cute legislation, its name bears little relation to what it actually does: It’s not about “restoring” mustangs. The federal Bureau of Land Management aims for a manageable population of 27,000 wild mustangs. Currently, there are 36,000, and the population doubles every four or five years.

To prevent things getting even more out of hand, the BLM keeps another 30,000 mustangs in holding pens — or, if you prefer, managed-care facilities. That’s to say, under federal management, one in every two “wild” horses now lives in government housing. The American mustang population is road-testing the impending demographic profile of Japan and Germany: one worker for every retiree."

REACT: So, uh, we can't shoot horses? Why not? If they become pests, shoot 'em, skin 'em, fry 'em up on the grill! Absent that, however, I would like to see Pelosi condom a stallion. Just sayin'....

This Will Ruin It Forever. Great.

This one, went waaaaaayyyy over the line.

Are you kidding me?

A secretly taped video of ESPN reporter Erin Andrews in her hotel room, using a “reversed peephole” camera, showing her buck naked curling her hair?

When I got the text message from a friend I was skeptical. Yeah, right. Naked? Video?

No chance.

Of course I clicked the link he sent, and quickly found that the material had been deleted. I then started surfing around for more info.

Only then did I find out the full scope of what had happened. Her lawyers were all over it, and any website daring to post the video was in full retreat.

So I'm glad I haven't seen it, and I am not going to see it. Not because I fear her lawyers. Because it's wrong. And even if the “damage is done” so to speak, I feel like me watching the video contributes to the violation of Ms. Andrews and her privacy.

This doesn't mean that I still don't think Andrews is the smokin' hot embodiment of the ultimate “sports girlfriend.” This doesn't mean that a few choice Andrews pictures (clothed, while reporting for ESPN) are coming off of my iPhone.

I mean, I still like Andrews for the following 3 reasons, and yes, IN ORDER.

1.She's hot.
2.She has a fun personality.
3.She knows sports.

But wrong is wrong. Period. This was a fucking crime, perpetrated by an idiot who should go to jail for at least a year, minimum.

Good job, asshole. Why not just kidnap her like the Taliban? Christ!

I can only imagine how creeped out Andrews was becoming over the last few years at every event she covered. Celebrity in America is a rocketship ride, especially for those who are good looking. You may not WANT to be tabloid fodder, but ultimately you don't have any say over that.

If you are her and refuse to take pictures with fans at an airport, you are a bitch. If you are too friendly with somebody they might just go Joe Namath and try to slip their tongue past the goalie.

I suspect Andrews just wanted to get better at her job, maybe move up the ranks, and hopefully get paid more money. I once speculated that she might make as much as $1 million a year from ESPN. (Personally, she deserves it, but that's just me!)

I was laughed at by people who know ESPN and the TV business. She makes less than $200,000 most insisted. Which is still a great salary for a fun job with no heavy lifting. But who the hell wants to be virtually stalked at that price point?

Now Andrews is going to have to live with the thought of even more creepy intrusion of privacy issues. If you can't trust a high end hotel's peephole not serving as a voyuer's Trojan horse, then what can you trust? Airport luggage handlers groping her underwear? Restaurant waiters licking her utensils? Don't snicker at the thought. Some douchebag just reversed her hotel room peephole and got video to go viral on the internet.

She might even quit over this thing.

Maybe not soon, or next year, but quietly, when her contract runs out. Remember Melissa Stark suddenly up and leaving Monday Night Football? I bet she has some stories.

And of course, regular red blooded guys like you and me will take the brunt of the blame. If only radio hosts didn't make constant mention of her looks. If only we respected her for the journalism she provided, and not our own titillation. If only we stopped Google searching her pictures.

Ugh.

The difference is that I know the line of what's fair game, and what's not. Pictures of Erin in a tight sweater and high heels doing sidelines of a Big Ten hoop game. Fair game. If there were video of her getting smashed at a strip club and doing a dance in her underwear (there's not, so stop searching) that would be fair game.

This wasn't even close. Creepy. Criminal. Despicable.

Great work, asshole. You've ruined the whole concept of even having hot sideline reporters in sports for maybe ever. Hope your happy.