I watched this earlier today before work, and now that I’m home and clicked on the link to get the embed code, I kinda want to watch it again. But I won’t. Because pot roast is almost done! Still, this is pretty good if you’re interested.
(via)
He probably will, but this ESPN story is throwing a monkey wrench in the whole hilarious spectacle (warning: autoplay). I, for one, sincerely hope the trade goes through. I can just imagine Mark Sanchez throwing in the towel mid-season — “Fuck it, give the position to the Golden Boy, I don’t care.” Then Rex Ryan bets the house on Tebow, and our boy crashes and burns immediately. I will bet you $100 that Tim Tebow gets sacked TWICE in the first series he sees in his next NFL game.
Any takers? (There can only be one, and the real bet is for $10. I’m not Mitt Fucking Romney, people.)
Rationally, of course, you know that there is nothing that you, as fan watching at home, can do to affect the outcome of a game. That it doesn’t matter, for example, that you wore your Red Sox hoodie over your Patriots hawaiian shirt for the first time this entire playoffs, even though you’d previously only worn said shirt with your Patriots “Give Blood” t-shirt (a freebie from the blood drive at work three years ago), your Patriots socks and Patriots boxers (neither of which you’d washed this post-season, but which totally isn’t gross because you really only wore them during the games themselves, so that’s like, what, eight hours max? so get over yourselves), and the faux Patriots bling you bought for $10 (plus shipping) on eBay back in college. And you know that it wouldn’t have made a difference if you’d forced the cat to suffer a little longer in his undersized Patriots pet jersey — supposedly made for a “medium dog,” but somehow hilariously tight on your wife’s overweight Maine Coon — especially since you’d promised she could take it off of him after the Pats’ first offensive series, which ended after one play on a MOTHERFUCKINGSAFETYHOLYSHITAREYOUMOTHERFUCKINGKIDDINGMEBRADY!?!!11? And the fact that you sat down during halftime after forgetting about your promise to stand the entire game, because halftime doesn’t count as the game game, right? and your legs were cramping a little, so who cares if you take a load off for a few minutes while Madonna whores it up with a bunch of parkour dudes? besides which, you were feeling a little weak because all you’d had for dinner was appetizers because there was no way you were gonna be able to eat any of the three-bean turkey chili bubbling away on the stove — not with the football-sized knot in your stomach — but the point being, you understand intellectually that there was no cosmic disturbance resulting from your moment of weakness, that four minutes on your great-grandfather’s naugahyde easy chair had nothing to do with the eventual outcome. And whether you placed your autographed Patriots cheerleaders banner on top of or in front of your Patriots cooler was completely irrelevant, as was the exact angle and orientation of your Patriots Beanie Baby with comically large Patriots tie (which is only comically large on the small stuffed animal but is, in truth, normal-sized on the human being for whom it was intended) and the old-fashioned faux-leather Patriots helmet with the original Pat Patriot logo, which maybe you should have been wearing, but which you also wore four years ago during the last Superbowl That Shall Remain Nameless and look how that turned out. And you comprehend that the cardboard Patriots coasters on your coffee table would have been equally useless even if you’d kept your frosty-mugged grape juice on there as well instead of keeping it on the other coffee table because the first one was crowded.
You know, deep down and not so deep down, that none of these actions and baubles, taken either singularly or in combination, has ever made a difference, will ever make a difference, could ever make a difference. And still you think…fuck…if only I hadn’t laid out my Patriots pajama bottoms on the bed before the game began. YOU ARROGANT ASSHOLE!!! IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT!@!!!!!!!!!!3234!3245890&$*)%&(*!
***
…pitchers and catchers report in two weeks…
It’s 5:16 in the morning and I hate everything. Or, as my favorite Facebook update of the night put it, “Brady sucks, Madonna sucks, and Eli is still wicked ugly, goodnight.” On the other hand, at least this guy had a good night:
Yeah, that’s a $50,000 payout. Okay, gonna cry myself back to sleep now.
As my wife said, he just went dolphin:
See you in Indy, Cindy! (Who? Shut-up. That’s who.)
I’ve touched on religiosity in sports in the past (and am clearly enamored enough with Carlin’s take on Christian athletes to embed the clip twice without remembering I’d already done so), so why not go there a third time, right? This week’s Yahweh blah-weh comes, surprisingly, not from the Denver Broncos and their Mile-High Messiah (aka, the 1.6 Kilometer-high King of Kings), but from my very own (as in, I have nothing to do with them in any material sense whatsoever) New England Patriots.
Via the Boston Globe:
Patriots defensive end Andre Carter will be placed on injured reserve, ending his season, a league source confirmed last night.
Carter injured his left quadriceps on the final play of the first quarter of Sunday’s 41-23 win in Denver and will require surgery.
The 11-year veteran took to Twitter last night, tweeting, “God is great. Thank you for showing me and my family support this season. It’s been a blast. Wouldn’t change it for anything.’’
Really, Andre? You wouldn’t change it for anything? You wouldn’t, say, change it if God offered to heal your goddamn leg?
I hope you and Adrian Gonzalez have a gay old time this offseason reminiscing about not the playoffs. (Not like that though: we already know God’s take on The Gays.)
The commentators for NFL games are almost as hard to listen to as Republican presidential candidates.
Because western Connecticut is apparently not a part of New England and thus could give a shit about broadcasting Pats games from start to finish, with eight or so minutes to go in yesterday’s romp over the Eagles, CBS decided to cut to a “more competitive” matchup featuring the Tebroncos vs. the Chargers.
Seeing that Denver was down by a field goal with just minutes to play in regulation, I watched with reluctant fascination as Tebow did what Tebow does to send the game into overtime, where he ultimate won it after two pathetic drives by both teams to start the 5th.
But that was the pre-ordained headline. The real story is what happened with 1:30 left to play in the 4th, when Chargers kicker Nick Novak — having already missed one field goal that afternoon while also making a 53-yarder — began to prepare for the potential game-winning kick (another 53-yarder, coincidentally) by…well, judge for yourself:
Stumped? Well, I’ll give you a clue: he’s not doing “the Tebow” in that shot.
FOX confirms: when Gatorade starts gushing and there’s no time to hit the locker room,
“We just take a knee and teammates hold up towels,” Novak said. “It’s kind of embarrassing, but oh well.”
To be fair, if I was expected to make two 50-plus-yard field goals in a game, I’d have a hard time holding it in, too.
(h/t)
Yesterday, the New England Patriots acquired wide receiver Chad Ochocinco and defensive tackle Albert Haynesworth.
If you have even a passing knowledge of American football, you undoubtedly recognize these names. The scary thing is, you may also recognize these names even if you couldn’t care less about football. Why is that scary? Because there are only two reasons to be familiar with football players if you’re not a fan of the sport: 1) they make hilarious commercials or roll with international supermodels, or 2) they’re self-contained soap operas.
Guess which category Albie and Chad fall into?
(To quote my cousin after I texted him about the Haynesworth acquisition: “Dude single handedly destroyed the skins haha, hopefully belichick can work a miracle.” Then after I texted him about Ochocinco: “Holy. Shit.”)
What’s the rap on these two characters? Well, Ochocinco is simply a world-class prima donna and part-time sideshow performer. From his ridiculous end zone celebrations, appearances on shows like Dancing with the Stars and WWE’s Monday Night Raw, and the fact that he actually changed his last name from “Johnson” to the Spanish iteration of his jersey number (85), to his “tryouts” in other sports like soccer and, yes, bull riding — the man’s constant need for attention too often trumps his equally eye-catching (though dwindling in recent years) statistical accomplishments.
Haynesworth, on the other hand…well, as Wil said, hopefully Belichick can work a miracle, because unfortunately, Big Al hasn’t just proven to be a distraction over his career — he’s been a walking time bomb.
A few tidbits from Wikipedia:
- On October 1, 2006 in the third quarter of a game against the Cowboys, running back Julius Jones scored on a rushing play. Center Andre Gurode fell to the ground, and his helmet was removed by Haynesworth. Haynesworth tried to stomp on Gurode’s head, but missed. A second stomp opened a severe wound on Gurode’s forehead, narrowly missing his right eye.
- On December 7, 2010, it was announced that Haynesworth will be suspended for the rest of the season [from the Washington Redskins]. There had been conflicts throughout the 2010 pre-season with Haynesworth and the coaching staff. After a dispute over his absence at a practice in which Haynesworth claimed to be ill, the team suspended him for “conduct detrimental to the club.” Coach Mike Shanahan said the suspension followed a refusal by Haynesworth to cooperate in a series of ways and not only because of the practice absence.
- Arrest warrants were issued against Haynesworth in two Tennessee counties in May 2006 stemming from a traffic incident on Interstate 40. Both sets of charges were dropped in June 2006. The judge in the Putnam County case tossed the charges on the grounds that the alleged offense happened out of their jurisdiction. In Smith County, the district attorney dismissed the charges. In March 2009, Haynesworth was indicted on two misdemeanor traffic charges stemming from a December 2008 car accident in Tennessee.[27] In an accident on Interstate 65, Corey Edmonson was partially paralyzed after colliding with Haynesworth’s car. Haynesworth was driving his Ferrari at speeds in excess of 100 mph when he struck Edmonson’s vehicle, which struck a concrete barrier.
- On June 22, 2010, it has been reported that Clayton Bank & Trust is suing the NFL lineman, alleging that Haynesworth has failed to make payments on a loan in the amount of more than $2.38 million. The suit was filed in the Knox County Chancery Court on June 18, 2010. According to papers, Haynesworth entered a commercial loan agreement for the original principal amount of $2,381,688.58 on June 27, 2009. On February 27, 2009 the two parties entered into an Extension Agreement with an effective date of February 27, 2010, according to the suit. The attorney for Clayton Bank & Trust, Hugh B. Ward, Jr., is seeking a little over $2.4 million.
- In 2010, Silvia Mena, a stripper from New York, claimed in a $10 million lawsuit that Haynesworth impregnated her and left her with no financial assistance.
- In 2011, Haynesworth allegedly threw a punch to the nose of Joel Velazques, 38, of Leesburg, Va. during a traffic altercation.
Of course, Belichick and co. have taken chances on “problem” players in the past and reaped huge rewards for their risks. (See: Corey Dillon in 2004 and the Pat’s subsequent Superbowl victory, not to mention Randy Moss in 2007 and his record-setting 23 touchdowns that year.) But to have both these guys on the team at the same time (assuming all the contractual nuts and bolts shake out)…well, I hope Barnum’s got a few extra rings handy, ’cause it could be a circus this year.
So last Saturday, David Ragan won the first NASCAR Sprint Cup Series race of his career. Now, perhaps that sentence means as little to you as it does to me, but whether it does or doesn’t, I encourage you to listen to the first 30 seconds or so of his victory speech following the race:
In case you didn’t catch all that (or didn’t feel like waiting for Danica to shut the hell up), here’s a transcript of Ragan’s opening remarks.
“This is fun. Uhh, what better place to do it than Daytona. Uhh, first of all, I’ve got to thank the Lord for, uhh, for looking after me. Uhh, Sprint. We delivered a win for UPS. How ’bout that? We’ve been promising all those UPSers for, uhh, for a couple of years and finally got it in Daytona. It couldn’t be any better. A great points night. Coca-Cola — Coke Zero 400. It couldn’t be a better night. I’ve gotta thank Matt Kenseth for helping me. My Ford teammates worked great together.”
For those keeping track at home (or, let’s face it, at work — get back to that spreadsheet, cubicle monkey!), that’s four references to four different sponsors in less than 25 seconds. Morgan Spurlock would be proud.
Fortunately, Ragan also remembered to thank God a solid five words and two verbal pauses before launching into his brand-heavy homily. Because if J-HOVA is interested in influencing anything in our turbulent little corner of the universe, it’s the outcome of motor car races. Cue The Man:
Le sigh…We miss you George…
Oh, but I’m sure you would have been tickled to death (you know, metaphorically speaking) to be proven wrong last November:
