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Friday, June 29, 2007

The Stuckey and Affalo picks pissed me off, but so did this.

My brain is kind of fried today. I'm taking a course at the University of Maryland this Summer that my employer encouraged me to take (and is paying for). I've been out of school for a few years so it has been a little bit rough getting back to homework and sitting through lectures. It has it's pluses though. Tuesday on the bus from the College Park metro to the student union, I sat across the aisle from a really skanky looking girl wearing a really tiny skirt. I couldn't help but see her panties when she was sitting down. She also had a nice tramp stamp. I enjoyed all of this greatly. I should probably check the missed connections section of craigslist later for something like

"I was showing you, and everyone else on the bus, my crotch. I did this in hopes that you, and everyone else who could see the panties covering my nineteen year old vajayjay, would get a boner. How would you like to meet for the purpose of doing something with me that would make you feel really dirty and really old afterwards?"

So I had my first midterm yesterday evening. After I finished it, I did just what I remembered one was supposed to do after an exam: go get bombed. Dolores and her BF picked me up and we went to the Ugly Mug, a little spot in the Capitol Hill neighborhood of DC. I had experienced limited success with girls at this bar when I lived in the area, but last night was all about the beer and for me, the USA vs Argentina Copa America match.

If you care about soccer, you already know what happened, and if you don't, you don't so much want to know. It was sweet to see the US get up 1-0 early on, but it became clear that in the end we would still get waxed, and that is in fact what happened. It's shameful, what happened. The US soccer federation, or whatever those punks call themselves, left out several of the top players from the roster for the match. They are basically treating the tournament like they have no chance and sending the tired players who just finished the Gold Cup would be a mistake. This would be like Evergreen State (just heard of this school today, and all because of Stuckey) started their bench players in the NCAA tournament after winning the Big Sky Conference because they were playing North Carolina.

The US wanted to win their regional tournament, and they did. And good for them. But if they think that anyone cares about a tournament featuring the US, Mexico, and a bunch of garbage as much or more than Copa America, they are fucked in the head. Did Mexico take the same approach after the Gold Cup? No, they told their players to strap it on and sent them down to Venezuela to beat Brazil in their opening match. And they did. When they didn't screw themselves with the initial roster, the coaches did it for them. Ben Olsen of DC United was taken out for a guy that doesn't even start for the Columbus team at a point in the match when our defense was still holding up.

Would the US still have lost last night with Landon Donovan, Beasley, and company? Probably, but it would have been closer. Maybe it would have been 2-1 or 3-2, which is no small feat against a team with Messi, Tevez, and a boatload of other players who are worshiped all over the world. Maybe it was time to give some of the younger guys a shot on a big stage, but why not give it to them against Guatemala or Canada, at least for a whole half. That way everyone's favorite pussified fluffy headed player with a receding hairline and his buddies are able to show up in a match that actually matters.

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Tuesday, June 26, 2007

Sixteen year restoration of 'Roar' complete, scheduled for first public appearance August 9th.

I spent this past weekend being a raging alcoholic in Wisconsin with thirteen of my closest problem drinker friends, so I missed out on the Jon Kitna statements until Monday.
"I'll keep to myself what I think we actually will win. But it's more than 10 games."
-Jon Kitna, starting quarterback, Detroit Lions
Wow, that means that the Lions are going to win 11 or more games. This was quite a shock for me, and it must have been for Big Al, who mistook this great Lions team for a bunch of losers. That is just dandy, going from 3-13 to 11-5, and it's kind of funny because before this statement was made I actually thought that they would probably go 5-11, with 7-9 the best to hope for. The only suspense now is in finding out which five or fewer games they will lose. Here are the strongest candidates:

Week 1: @ Oakland
It's probably too much to ask for even a great team like the Lions to go out to the West Coast and come back with a win in the opening game. The proud Raider Nation will surely be fired up to open up against a team that everyone now knows will win at least eleven games.

Week 3: @ Philadelphia
The Lions will lose this football game, or I will lose the deed to my home.

Last year the Bears made it to the Super Bowl and they look to be a tough team again this year. Even a great offense like the Lions have could struggle against the Bears stout, opportunistic defense. Out of the five losses, one will probably occur at home. This will probably be that one.

Week 5: @ Washington
The Redskins have a history of fucking the Lions. They lost to them in the 1991 Conference championship the week after their lone win in the playoffs since 1957. The last appearance by the Lions in the playoffs occurred in 1999, which was also a loss to the Skins. The Redskins are probably not going to be great this year, so the Lions should handle them. Unfortunately, as DC residents, the Battleship and I will be in attendance so it will probably be a loss.

Week 8: @ Chicago
Midwest bearfest may be in Indianapolis this year, but the real party is going to happen when the Bears win this game. It will be easy for Lions fans to start to wonder if this is really an 11-5 team after this one, but they must be strong and have faith in the assurance of Jonnycakes. I yelled at my friend Anthony this Saturday morning when he brought three cases of PBR to the check-out counter right after we bought a keg when we only had 14 people drinking, five of which were female, but he told me that the beer was on the list and we had to stick to the list. By 10PM Saturday night, the keg was kicked. By noon on Sunday we were out of beer entirely.

Week 9: DENVER
The first win by an AFL team over an NFL team happened on August 5th, 1967 in Denver, Colorado. Against the Detroit Lions.
Alex Karras (aka Mongo) said he would walk home to Detroit if his Lions lost to the Broncos.

On the Bus following the game, Roger Brown, the Lions defensive tackle moaned, "the Denver didn't happen!"
It did happen. in the infirmary. on my shoes. and it's probably going to happen again this year.

Week 11: GIANTS
Plaxico Burress will return to the great state of Michigan and will lead his Giants over the Detroit football Lions.

Week 14: DALLAS
Classic revenge game, baby! The Lions, who are far more comfortable being the team seeking revenge than vice versa, will probably lose this game.

Week 15: @ San Diego
When is it OK to bet the farm on a Lions game? This week. 'L' is for Lions.

Week 16: Kansas City
Not sure who's quarterbacking them, but they still have LJ, who will run roughshod over the Lions defense, who will be missing Shawn Rogers after being jailed for breaking into a stripper's childhood home to inappropriately touch her parents, while carrying a thankfully holstered handgun.

Week 17: @ Green Bay
Last time the Lions won at Lambeau? 1991. The Lions have not won there in the Brett Favre era. Brett Favre, dear reader, is an old bastard. If the Lions are 11-4 going into that game, be prepared for them to finish the season 11-5.

So there you have it, Lions fan. The games listed above are eleven probable losses for your 11-5 2007 Detroit Lions. Antik must be dyslexic.

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Monday, June 25, 2007

My KSK Fantasy Football League Application

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Wednesday, June 20, 2007

It would have understood a simple pat on the ass.

Nick Cotsonika, the guy behind the Honolulu Blue Kool-Aid stand, wrote up a story told by some of Sargent Marinelli's high school buddies about old Sarge wrestling a bear in a car dealership parking lot.
“It was cold, the mat was all wet, and this bear was smelly, let me tell you,” Schram said. “So we put the money up there, and in goes Rod. Rod did then what he does now: He went in to win.”
If Rod still has that kind of intensity and drive, maybe he can go into Damian Woodie's house and get him to put down the tub of Edy's chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream.
The Russian guy declared Victor the victor. Schram and Gomez said they cheated. Marinelli tried to be a good sport.
Fuck, that's the last thing the Lions need. Do you think the Broncos got to be a good team by being 'good sports'? And yeah, I'm sure they cheated. The Bear wasn't following the code of man vs. beast fighting conduct. Roger Goodell would have that bear's ass.
“Rod goes over to shake the bear’s hand,” Gomez said, laughing. “The bear doesn’t know he’s coming to shake hands. The bear attacked him again.”
God help us.

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Get A Big Score Going Down
(inspired by the previous post by the Battleship)

You want to keep the shaft stiff and straight.

You've heard of the Medicus, right? No? Well, obviously you're not a golfer. The golf swing may look easy on television, but the slightest imperfection in your stance, balance, or tempo will translate into a shitty golf shot. If your grip is too tight or out of position on the club, you will fuck your shot up. If you break your wrists too early on the takeaway, you will fuck your shot up. If you do a side bend during your back swing instead of pivot your hips, you will fuck your shot up. If you start your downswing with your hands instead of your hips and shoulders, you will fuck your shot up. There are countless ways to fuck up a golf shot. This is why the average golfer score is somewhere close to 100 and why they throw clubs and swear violently during rounds. You can have the greatest drive you've ever had and if you fuck up the next shot you can still end up with a triple bogey.

The Medicus is one of many golf training aids designed to build muscle memory associated with a proper swing plane at the proper tempo. It looks like a regular golf club except for the hinge in the middle of the shaft. It is designed so that with a proper swing, the hinge in the shaft will not break. It teaches you that the golf swing should be completely in a plane that is roughly like if you had a big sheet of glass standing up in front of you at where the ball is teed up, parallel to your shoulders, and then was allowed to magically fall through your head to rest on your shoulders. All of your swings would be such that your club would glide against this big sheet of glass. The hinge will not break if the club is in this plane through the swing and the tempo is smooth and the wrists are loose. This forces your hips to make the proper pivot and all the other shit. I wholeheartedly endorse the Medicus as a quality training aid.

Like the golf swing, cunnilingus looks easy in pornographic video but the slightest imperfection can leave you stuck in traffic downtown, ordered to pull over to the side of the road, or forced off the road due to a broken down tongue. While a poor technique may still be enjoyable for the cunnilingee, it's not going to take her over that rainbow. It's not going to result in her making you a fresh batch of cookies.

Unfortunately, I grew up listening to, among other genres of music, gangsta rap, which didn't exactly glorify the cunnilingus. It certainly was not part of the seven habits of highly effective gangstas. Gangsta rap, however, did make it clear to females that fellatio and scrotum licking was a highly marketable skill for bitches and hos to possess. So while great advances in fellatio were made in the g-funk era, cunnilingus was probably set back quite a bit.

While I consider myself to be somewhat proficient at this endeavor, I by no means consider myself an expert. I understand that like the golf swing, both tempo and the length of the swing are important. Inconsistent tempo can leave the vajayjay confused or even frightened. Going too fast or two slow is undesirable. But how fast is too fast and how slow is too slow? What is the ideal coverage zone? Sure, you could just ask, but what self-respecting male wants to do that?

What we need is a training device for our tongues. A Medillingus. It could be sold along with a practice range (fake pussy). It could function by beeping in a steady rhythm when your tongue is doing what it should and make a buzzing noise, like the one in Family Feud when you give a shitty answer, when something goes wrong. This Medillingus would promote muscle memory associated with positive responses in the vajayjay. As a cunnilinger's technique is honed, his intake of from-scratch chocolate chip cookies and intensive reciprocation will increase, which he will find pleasing. Perhaps eventually there could even be video games like Golden Tee at taverns where gentlemen could demonstrate their cunnilinging prowess, which may or may not lead to increased take-home action from the bar.

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Tuesday, June 19, 2007

The Ten Commandments of NFL Betting
Part 3.

Fresh from the motherfucking mountain top, I present to you the seventh and eighth of the ten commandments of NFL betting. But first, here are the first six from part 1 and part 2:

1. Thou shalt not bet on one shitty team to beat another shitty team.

2. Thou shalt not bet on a Sunday or Monday night game that would not be of betting interest had it been played at 1 PM on Sunday.

3. Thou shalt not place any wager on a game involving the Lions unless it also involves a Super Bowl contending team and the bet is against the Lions.

4. Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's wager.

5. Thou shalt not parlay more than three wagers.

6. Thou shalt not believe any event with a money line will occur with certainty.

7. Thou shalt remember the Sabbath and keep it holy.

There is no regular season sporting event as fun to watch as a college football game between two national powers. There are shitloads of them throughout the season and this is why college football reigns supreme over all other sports--until you get to the 'postseason' when the NCAA wipes away any and all legitimacy from the season. If you don't agree with me, you can go back to Brandeis, unzip the corduroys of your favorite Humanities professor, and suck his soiled cock with all the gusto you cried your eyes out thinking of how horrible it would be to be 'just a number' at some big state school your senior year at Shelterville Preparatory Academy.

That said, college football Saturdays are not when you want to be sweating out a tough parlay. Crazy shit happens all the time in college football and this is why it is best practice to save your wagering for Sundays, when the professionals go to work. Remember some of the stupid shit you did when you were in your late teens and early twenties? Imagine if someone was betting on whether or not you would make it to class at 10AM. Don't bother thinking about who has the better run defense, the ATS record at home, or any of that shit. Just enjoy the game and save your wagering for the Sunday Sabbath, the day of 'the Lord', aka Ladainian Tomlinson*.

8. Thou shalt not make foolish wagers following the outcome of a significant wager.

What does a raging alcoholic the morning after drinking at an open bar event and the exponential distribution have in common with a successful gambler? The memoryless property. After losing, say, one hundred dollars on the 1PM games, going heavy on a team that is +260 to win during one of the 4PM games looks awfully tempting. "When life fucks me, I fuck back!", you say. If by chance you had a big win or two in the early games and find yourself sitting on a nice big balance, you probably want to get right back in the game and continue what you started. Among the bets you want to put down is inevitably a throw-away bet or two. "Shit, I'm up a shitload. What's twenty-five bucks to me at this point? I'll just put a couple long shots out there and see what happens." Scenario one: by the time the sun goes down, it's clear that you're going to be down $150. Scenario two: You turned your big day into just barely enough to cover your bar tab, if that. Wait until your emotional high or low zeros out before making your next move. Bet like Kenny Rogers attacks cameramen. Without any emotion whatsoever.

* I have $50 on 'There is no Hell' at -105.

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is to 'W' as

is to 'BS'

One of the charms of Major League Baseball is the witnessing of a statistical anomaly that occurs during a single game resulting in a win for the team you root for. Some of these events, like the triple play, involve multiple players. Most of them, however, are associated with a single player. While batters have walk-off home runs, hitting for the cycle, the golden shower sombrero, and others, it is the starting pitcher who has the most control over the game and can achieve the most impressive single game feats, such as the no-hitter or the perfect game.

In no other sport is there an equivalent to the perfect game or no-hitter, because in most cases there is no upper limit to a single player's performance. Wilt Chamberlain could have scored more than 100 points. Red Berenson could have scored seven goals against the Flyers (sorry Dolores) in 1968. It is usually possible to kick further, run faster, throw more touchdown passes, or catch more fish. It is certainly possible for someone to win every single point in every single game of a tennis match, but if it has ever happened in professional tennis, it hasn't happened frequently enough to have developed a catchy name. Bowling certainly does have the perfect game, which is an amazing accomplishment, but every bowling alley in the US has a board with a long list of bowlers having bowled a perfect game, so it's probably not going to get you more than a few sentences in your local paper.

The baseball pitcher has one goal: to retire twenty-seven batters in a game, and while doing so, limit the batters that are not retired from crossing home plate as many times as the batters on his own team cross the plate. You play to win the game. If the pitcher is exceptionally dominant, he may record a shutout, a no-hitter, or a perfect game. A perfect game implies a no-hitter and a shutout. A no-hitter does not imply a shutout, but it almost always happens that way. Strangely, it is possible for a pitcher to accomplish all three of these feats without recording a win. Thankfully, the no-hitter thrown by Tigers pitcher Justin Verlander last week did go along with a win (Poor transition sentence, you say? Fuck you. And fuck me, because you're right).

This was the first no hitter thrown by a Tigers pitcher in Detroit in several decades. When I started following baseball closely again in the late nineties, I would sometimes wonder what it would be like to watch a Tigers pitcher throw a no-hitter. In those years and the first five years of the 00's, Tigers fans were subjected to Justin Thompson, Brian Moehler, Jeff Weaver, and other such pitchers being the opening day starters, representing the best of the staff. The starting pitching was atrocious, the bullpen was a disgrace, and the farm system offered no hope. Thankfully, Randy Smith was fired and things began to change for the organization starting with the acquisition of great young pitching prospects through the draft and via trades. No player represents the 'new Tigers' more than Justin Verlander, and it was fitting that Dave Dombrowski, the man who drafted him, stood clapping along with the fans as Verlander put the finishing touches on his girlfriend no-hitter.

Unfortunately, there is one unpleasant reminder of the 'old Tigers' lingering on the 2007 team. Dean Palmer. Damian Easley. Bobby Higgenson. If you are a Tigers fan, you may be reaching for a stummies bottle of Tums after reading those names. They had a few good seasons, got big contracts, and sucked for the rest of their years on the team when they were healthy enough to suck. Thank god they are gone. Remaining, however, is Todd Jones, who came back to the Tigers at the beginning of last year when there was no experienced closer on the team. Despite having a number of great young arms in the bullpen (who all suck ass right now, incidentally), we're still Jonesing.

Last night I watched the Tigers play in DC for the first time. It was a hot, humid, windless night and I hoped that the Tigers would blow the Nats out so Jones wouldn't have a chance to fuck it up and cause more sweating than I already was doing. It was looking good for a while, as the Tigers jumped out to a 9-1 lead. Then Maroth got shelled for four runs and was removed, handing the four run lead over to the roulette wheel in left field. Somehow Grilli and a couple of whodats held the lead. Actually, De la Cruz looked to have some good stuff in the eighth despite some wildness. Then the Marlboro Man inexplicably handed over the four run lead to Jones in a non-save situation and he of course gave up three runs on five straight hits before eking it out with two on.

Todd Jones averages three runs more per nine innings than Verlander. Jones tops out at around 93 miles per hour in the ninth inning. Verlander has throw the ball 102 miles per hour in the ninth inning, after pitching, ummm, eight innings. Jones tries to get batters out by getting them to make contact and hoping it goes at someone. Verlander makes batters look foolish trying to make any contact. Watching Jones get a save feels like you're watching a sixty year old woman give birth to a 12 pound baby. It's ugly, nauseating, and downright painful to watch. Watching Verlander pitch makes you think that it's so easy that you could do it. Jones is old. Verlander is young.

The shitty thing is that with Zumaya out and the rest of the bullpen in shambles, Leyland has no option but to keep sending To-Jo back out there. Jones continues to be the crusty old man hanging on to the job in your office because of his institutional knowledge and the lack of interest in the position from anyone else. So pull the safety bar down tight, Tiger fans, and get ready for another roller coaster ride tonight. Just don't forget your barf bag.

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Friday, June 15, 2007

The Ten Commandments of NFL Betting
Part 2.

After posting part 1, a couple of fine suggestions were made in the comments section so it's time for part 2 of what will hopefully lead you, Mr. Degerate Gambler, to brighter Mondays this fall. But first, here are the first three commandments of NFL betting:

1. Thou shalt not bet on one shitty team to beat another shitty team.

2. Thou shalt not bet on a Sunday or Monday night game that would not be of betting interest had it been played at 1 PM on Sunday.

3. Thou shalt not place any wager on a game involving the Lions unless it also involves a Super Bowl contending team and the bet is against the Lions.

from Arnie 'the beekeeper' Solomon:

4. Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's wager.

After placing a wager or a series of wagers, nothing is more fun that calling up your gambling buddies to tell them your picks. It doesn't matter how shitty you did the prior week or how much you're up or down for the entire season. The biggest lock-of-the-century bet is always the one you just made. Often, the confidence of the degenerate friend of yours that is on the phone with you announcing what will probably be a real Hindenburg of a bet will trick you into wanting to make the same bet yourself. "Ooh, I like that", you say to yourself. Plus, you like the idea of both you and your dawg watching the game together and both winning on it. This rarely, if ever works out. Instead, you will probably both end up miserable like Arnie and I were after getting taken to the cleaners when the Packers lost that playoff game at home to Atlanta. You don't want to put yourself through that, where you could be left as prey for the funny figured sister of your friend, who is looking for someone who's down on his luck.

the butler, over at Mile High Ramblings, wisely suggested to avoid placing five team parlays just because of the huge payout. I give a slight modification:

5. Thou shalt not parlay more than three wagers.

"How much is that gonna pay out?"
"A little over seven hundred."
"Whoa! That's awesome. And seriously, I like all five of those. That thing is money."
"I know, it's like, just give me the money now, right?"

WRONG. Once in a great while, you or one of your gambling buddies will win a big parlay which is really a curse, like winning a few hundred the first time you play roulette. By the time you win your next one you will probably be a year or two older and a whole lot poorer because of all the failed attempts to hit the big jackpot. There is nothing more annoying (and we've all been guilty of this) than listening to someone tell you how you got screwed out of your parlay by the team that totally should have fucking covered but just ran the clock out, while all four of the other teams came through like an erection. Don't be that guy or you will say something like this to your friends on the phone or at the bar:
"I fucking hate Florida State. A five-team parlay I had. The first four came through without a trace of sweat. I threw in Florida to win because they were -1300 against Clemson. I mean, it wasn't adding to much but it was a fucking lock so why not throw it in, right? And they can't even beat a shitty fucking Clemson team."
This, ladies and gentleman, was yours truly. And don't say that that kind of shit doesn't happen in the NFL. Remember the Texans beating the Colts in Indianapolis last year? This brings me to...

6. Thou shalt not believe any event with a money line will occur with certainty.

Hey, Mr. Smartypants, thinking of putting a grand down on a really good team to beat a really shitty team? You'll probably win, but you won't win that much. If you escape this week and even next week doing this, you will probably think you're a fucking genius and won't shut up to your friends about how great this strategy of betting large amounts on 'sure things' is. Until you go and lose once, wiping out all of your profits and a lot more. Sometimes even the games that are so sure things that there isn't even a money line fuck up. Remember the Texans. What does this mean? It means that you shouldn't bet your fucking mortgage payment on a football game, even when it's the Chargers hosting the Cardinals.

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The odds are not against you if you are not against the odds.

Over to your right is a small list of links that I need badly to expand and plan on doing so today sometime. Through links that others have included on their pages, I have found some fantastic blogs. The one non-blog link here is to the Chuck Klosterman archive of page2 columns. EPSEM ESPN, while despicable for continuing to push Chris Berman at us during events least needing witless self-pleasing statements, has collected a supremely talented group of writers for the page2 section of And Scoop Jackson, unfortunately.

At the top of that list of great writers for me is ChuckK. On June 5th, a new Chuck piece was posted to page2 for the first time since the final game of the NCAA tournament. His column discusses how the All American Football League (AAFL) plans for success by catering to hardcore fans of college football. The basic idea is for the teams in the league to play games in the stadiums of colleges like Tennessee and Alabama, where the Spring game usually draws more fans than there are seats. The teams would be required to maintain a certain percentage of players that played for the school belonging to the stadium. All players would have to have a college degree. There will be no tv deal.

The AAFL is not the only new league hoping for great success. The United Football League (UFL), which has already secured multi-million dollar investments from Mark Cuban and others, hopes to succeed playing games on Friday nights during the usual football season, giving football fans an alternative to watching pimple faced teens bumbling around at the local high school. They see fans owning shares of the teams as well, which will help create loyalty.

As a lover of the sport of American football, I hope at least one of these two leagues succeeds, but they are ignoring the one thing that would guarantee survival.


An AAFL game sounds like a fun way to spend a Spring afternoon or evening, especially if coolers were permitted as they are at NASCAR events, but just imagine if they had a window to walk up to and place a wager? You could bet on who would win, who would cover the spread, the total, the spreads and totals for the quarters, and any number of props. That, in my estimation, would be the shiznit. The colleges are sure to reject this idea so they should build their own stadiums and take investments from the Public to do it. I can buy stock in Harrah's, so why not the AAFL? They should change the name of the league to something else though, such as the Mother Fucking Football League (MFFL). If the AAFL is too lame to try to make this happen, I hope the UFL is not. Mark Cuban has made it clear how he feels about sports gambling.

While the NFL pretends to not want anything to do with gambling, we all know that it is one of the major reasons why the league is so popular. Just go sit at the bar at any sports bar with Sunday Ticket in a big city on a Sunday during the season and listen to the conversations and look around. The guy with the Bears jersey isn't jumping up and down pumping his fist in response to the touchdown just scored by LaDainian Tomlinson when the Chargers were already up by five with thirty seconds left because his sister lives in San Diego. He either has him in his fantasy league or has money on the Chargers to cover the points spread.

If States other than Nevada have a problem with it, why not put the whole league there? Put a team or two in South Lake Tahoe, put another couple in Reno, and put the rest in Vegas. If you put them attached to the Casino, they will pay for the stadiums. This will give men a way to take a break from the tables without resorting to Cirque du Soleil.

Oh, and you could have topless cheerleaders.

Bon Weekend!

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Thursday, June 14, 2007

Game log? More like Gulag! LOL!

Live, from Le Fin du basket, I give you complete coverage of the tenth minute of the 3rd quarter.

ilgauskas missed. he's from lithuania, like my great grandmother! parker made a basket. timeout. spurs up by 11. coppertone sport: effective for sweaty fucks. ghost rider? never saw it. not buying dvd either. they have fancy cameras to show a lot of boring ball. cavs still don't have 50. cavs pass around and lebron makes a shot!!!! parker made a layup. fuck, this is a long minute. pass by the cavs, and...I'm done here.

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Tuesday, June 12, 2007

Streak of Shame

Serena Williams, like myself, doesn't settle for the second stall.

Losing streaks are hard on all parties. As a Detroit sports fan, I've seen more than my fair share with the Lions starting 0-12 in 2001, the Pistons losing six four straight to the Cavs in the Eastern Conference finals this year, the three straight wins by the Columbus Mudflaps over my beloved Wolverines, and the 2004 Tigers. As a fan, you want to go down to the dugout, bench, or sideline and show them how much you want the losing to cease immediatement. You want to express to them how the losing streak is affecting not just them, but the moods of thousands of loyal fans and crazed gamblers employing the martingale strategy (to be discussed at a later date). It's easy to underestimate how a streak is weighing on the athletes experiencing it, especially if they are professionals, but it's important to realize that nobody is more cognizant of the streak and wants it over sooner than the players. After all, we all go through tough streaks in our own lives. Some folks, as I understand it, go days without alcohol. Others forget to masturbate for two, three, even four days in a row. Sometimes even a young professional can go through a tough streak at the office.

Today after finishing my second cup of coffee this morning, my eyes turned brown indicating that the buffering of the packets of information passing between my server and data port was complete and I made a beeline for the mens room. Motherfucking shitcock whoreballs queefmist! Some asshole was in my owners box (large handicapped stall). The nerve of this jerk to walk in and claim the owners box for his own. As an able bodied man with special needs, special needs to dominate the back stall like only I can, I was not pleased at all to have to settle for the sidecar crapper. I'm sitting there, with just barely enough space like a chump while that Sooner fuck was living the high life on the other side of the divider. It felt like I was sitting outside of a room where some random guy was fucking my girlfriend. OK, maybe my ex-girlfriend. Alright, alright, it was probably more like listening to someone fucking my most very favorite prostitute in the whole world. The worst part was that this was like the fourth or fifth straight time that this has happened.

What's a white collard green boy to do? Is this just bad luck or do I need to change my pre-game preparation? Maybe I need to wake up earlier and drink coffee before leaving the house to get the edge on my competition. Perhaps I need to keep a running log of the exact times I logon or hang out by the sink to study the tendencies of my coworkers. Could it be that I'm just feeling the effects of a long road trip? I have, after all, been in a temporary office in the basement for a while now and I had a much greater winning percentage up on the second floor. Shit. Maybe I'll just have to stick to the same approach that landed me so many wins of the owners box in the past.

One thing's for damn sure: That first victory to break this long, smelly, brown streak sure is going to taste great. The echoes bouncing around the area bounded by the familiar metal dividers will whisper sweetly to me that I'm back home in the win column.

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Monday, June 11, 2007

Ten Commandments for NFL Betting
Part 1.

The single most regrettable action that a Lions fan can do is to bet on them to win a game. Every week I have to try talk myself out of it. It's a tough battle that usually goes something like this:

"I really really want to bet on Lions this week. Green Bay is fucking terrible. Shit, what am I talking about, the Lions are terrible too. But they're playing in Detroit. They really should win this game--Favre hasn't owned us in Detroit, and he's older and shittier than ever. Stop it! Stop! It's one thing to be foolish enough to 'believe' that this team, go to a bar to watch it in my Charles Rogers jersey, and leave disappointed, but it's another to have put some money down on it. But they played so well last week against a team that is definitely playoff-caliber! If they play like that, they will definitely crush the Packers! Exactly. If. If if if. You know what teams are OK to assume will play well with few stupid penalties or bad turnovers? Good teams. Teams that will make the playoffs. The Lions are not that kind of team."

Looking through the Lions schedule, I think they will be favored in only three games.
1. week 2 vs. the Vikings
2. week 7 vs. Tampa
3. week 12 vs. Green Bay

The sad thing is that they will almost surely lose one of these games, and very possibly two. Last year they disgraced themselves at home to Minnesota, Green Bay, and San Francisco, so it's very possible that they will lose all three of these games too. The Lions did not defeat a single team in the NFC North in 2006. As shitty as the Lions have been as a franchise, I can't remember another year where they didn't beat one of those teams. Yet somehow they managed to beat three upwardly average teams in the Cowboys, Falcons, and Bills.

And now for my first three rules for NFL betting for 2007...
1. Thou shalt not bet on one shitty team to beat another shitty team.

Even though the shitty team may be playing a team that may be perceived as being shittier than the shitty steam, the team you are betting on is still shitty, which is a shitty thing to do.

2. Thou shalt not bet on a Sunday or Monday night game that would not be of betting interest had it been played at 1 PM on Sunday.

This is a clear violation of Arnie's 'best practices', but my success in these games is piss poor. An example of this kind of game from last year would have been a Dallas/Atlanta game in early November. At that point both teams looked decent but either side could have won and I probably hadn't seen either team enough to feel confident. Rule #2 will tell me to just watch the game and save my money for snuff films and precious ammo.

3. Thou shalt not place any wager on a game involving the Lions unless it also involves a Super Bowl contending team and the bet is against the Lions.

It is never a good idea to bet on the Lions, but since they sometimes beat teams in the shitty to upwardly average range, betting against them should be avoided as well.

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Thursday, June 07, 2007

Maybe We Could Call It 'The World Championship of Football'

The most recent English Premier League season started around August 20th, 2006 and finished around May 20th, 2007. What do the players do in this three month off-season? The top players across Europe are then recalled to their national teams to play international matches. These include the European Championship, the World Cup, qualifiers for those two tournaments, and international 'friendlies' to stay sharp.

All of this action gives soccer fans something to focus on at all times, and it keeps the top players in shape and in good form. Unfortunately, the constant play can also lead to injuries that can cause a player to miss their club team's entire season. England/Newcastle Striker Michael Owen is an example. Still, professional soccer clubs generally allow their players to compete in international matches of great importance despite the risk of losing a key component of their team to injury. Perhaps this is allowed because when showcasing a player on an international stage, the club could later benefit from fans who discover a player through these tournaments and then want to follow them in their domestic league. A player's value to the club could also undoubtedly increase with strong international play. Take Marseille's Franck Ribery, for example. He was a standout for France in the '06 World Cup and is on the verge of being transferred to Bayern Munich for a rumored twenty-five million euros.

Over on this side of the pond, we Americans are treated to various athletic leagues in the football off-season, none of which fully fills our deep, vast vagina that is constantly moist and glistening for the great pigskin cock. While the NFL stars are off frolicking in places like Miami or the O.C. fattening up, de-injuring themselves, filling the role of beefy celebrity that the average shitty golfer can outplay at a charity outing, or whatever other sissy, lazy, family oriented half-mastery they engage in, we fans suffer. We love the NFL so much that the Bermanic fucking televised draft probably gets better ratings than every single non-football athletic event during the off-season. Saturday afternoon baseball on FOX between two teams, neither of whom are named the Tigers? Are you kidding me? I would rather watch a movie on Lifetime based off of a Danielle Steele novel or ask an elderly woman for tips on growing rhododendrons than watch the Mets play the Florida Marlins with Joe Buck and Tim McObvious narrating. Announcers for televised baseball, by the way, are the most unnecessary add-ons to any televised sport. All you need is to have the score, outs, the count, who is up, who is pitching, and who made the play in the field. There's a handy thing called 'text' that humans have used for years that can be flashed on the screen at the appropriate time to alert the viewer what is happening.

Now I know there are many legitimate excuses for not playing top-level football in the Spring and Summer. I'm not going to get caught up in all of that mess. It's high time for a Spring/Summer football tournament. At this point I do not have a name for it, but it should be modeled after the European Championships, with the major difference being that states and not countries would field the teams. Each state can enter a team of players born in that state only. The players could come from any level of football, as long as they are over 18 (so they wouldn't die on the field after being hit by Ray Lewis and not know the simple pleasures of legally buying pornography or purchasing fireworks in Indiana). The tournament could consist of sixteen teams with four states out of each of the four Census Regions qualifying somehow. The games would take place at some site within the regional action, and the final four would be held at some city selected to host for that particular year.

This would be fun for many, many, many fine reasons. Here are some of them:

- Americans tend to both like football and have state-pride. Ding dong!
- It would be awesome to see an NFL player you can't stand get burned by some white guy from Wyoming.
- The NCAA might start to believe that there is real money to be made from a tournament at the end of the college football season.
- Who wouldn't want to watch Hawaii play Alaska in the qualifying stages?
- Each state would also have its own cheerleaders. Cheerleaders have vaginae and pretty hair.

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Monday, June 04, 2007

The Romance Is Over

When watching a game at a bar you don't always get to listen to the play-by-play and commentary by the analysts. Instead, you may be watching to the game you deemed 'too big to just watch at home' listening to the two guys next to you trying to figure out who the group is that sings the song playing on the jukebox.

When you close your eyes
And go to sleep
And it's down to the sound
Of a heartbeat
I can hear the things
That you're dreamin' about
When you open up your heart
And the truth comes out

Saturday night I hobbled out to a bar on U St. in Northwest DC in my blue 'away' Rasheed jersey. The hobbling was due to someone having stepped on my toe with a cleat in the soccer game I played earlier. It's either badly bruised or broken--not sure which at this point. The bar we went to features three different beers for $2/bottle from 10PM - 2AM Saturday night, which is inline with my new initiative of avoiding the $4 Miller Lites when I go out. This, in The District, is not an easy thing to accomplish, especially during the weekend.

You tell me that you want me
You tell me that you need me
You tell me that you love me
And I know that I'm right
'Cause I hear it in the night

I arrived at the start of the second half after watching the first at my home, ordered a $2 Harp, and locked into the game while Cleveland fans Detroit haters gave me shit. It was good natured, however, and the guy bought me and my girlfriend a beer when he left (easy to be generous when they're $2). First Pistons shot: Rasheed misses a three. Fuck. The third quarter, like many quarters that Pistons fans have become accustomed to, is painful to watch. Cleveland ends it up by a point but neither team scores twenty.

I hear the secrets that you keep
When you're talking in your sleep
I hear the secrets that you keep
When you're talking in your sleep

"Aw, shit, who the fuck is that? It was one of those bands with the big hair. Something like Loverboy, but not."
"The Romantics. It's The Romantics."(other guy looks it up on his cell phone)
"Shit, you're right. Fuckin' a."

Unlike game five, Lebron was not dominating and watching it I got the feeling that it was the Pistons game to lose. And losing the game seemed frighteningly likely, especially the way the third period went. It was the other Cavs that were hanging with the Pistons. The Cavs picked it up during the fourth quarter, led by the bombs from Daniel Gibson. The Pistons gave up 31 and only scored 16. It was painful to watch.

When you close your eyes
And you fall asleep
Everything about you is a mystery

When you watch a game at a bar with the juke box music on, you not only get to listen to the big hits from mostly forgotten eighties bands and the taunting from drunks that are happy that your team is losing, but you also get to form your own opinion about what you are witnessing. It's the same thing when you go to a game. For me, what happened to the Pistons Saturday night was what happens to less than great teams in crucial situations. They missed their shots. There were plenty of good looks. They just shot and missed. I don't particularly care why they missed them. I don't think that their head coach had anything to do with it. When a team gets in position to take open shots, and they miss them much more often than not when the other team is shooting the lights out...well, that's just going to happen sometimes.

What is unsettling about this series is how the Pistons were eliminated by losing four straight games after barely pulling out wins in the first two. More unsettling to me is how impossible it seems to say "We'll be back next year". Yeah, I know they have two 1st round draft picks, but I'm just sick of this team. I'm sick of the sixteen point quarters. I'm sick of Mason. I'm sick of Rasheed and his replica jersey I bought that comes down to my fucking knees. I'm sick of Rip's mask. Lindsey Hunter? Fucking retire, please. Webber? Thanks for coming out.

What would get me excited for next year would be a starting five with Prince, Hamilton, Billups with less than a max contract, and two new big men--preferably twenty-five years old or less, but even that bores the shit out of me right now. A few months ago I wrote about all of the sports going on and how it would be a challenging time of year to be a boyfriend. That time is now just about over. Sure, the Stanley Cup playoffs is going on and the NBA finals is about to start, but after that? Just like the Pistons, the exciting Spring sports season is just about dead.

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Friday, June 01, 2007

Quote of the day

Over at the KSK comment board a few minutes ago a commenter named "farmacy" left the following comment:
"I had a friend shit himself on spring break due to a gravity bong and a long game of Kings with one sober person... (NEVER play a rules based game with a sober person, you will end up with someone shitting themself).

Is that a legendary drinking story?"
While reading this, I was reminded of the "If it wasn't for my horse, I wouldn't have spent that year in college" bit by Lewis Black, where he claims to have overheard a woman say that and his brain about exploded trying to figure out what context could possibly make that sentence make sense.

Within the above comment, the portion enclosed in parentheses struck me in a similar fashion.

"NEVER play a rules based game with a sober person, you will end up with someone shitting themself"

Some things I like about it:
- the intended audience is intoxicated
- "rules based game" is awesome. At this point I'm imagining a really drunk person playing some kind of game without rules and all I'm seeing is a group of barbarians in a field swinging various weaponry around in their arms while screaming and twirling around without any discernible direction, vomiting occasionally from the extreme drunkenness.
- has a comma instead of the word 'or'
- 'them' and 'self' don't go together to form an actual word, but whatever it does form sure is pleasing to me.
- the 'someone', as I understand it, shits himself or herself if the following conditions hold:
1) an individual (not necessarily the 'someone') is engaged in a game with rules. from Merriam-Webster:
a physical or mental competition conducted according to rules with the participants in direct opposition to each other
'rules-based game' is like 'carbon-based organic matter'.
2) the other participant in the game in opposition to the individual is sober.

I am thankful for the farmacys of the world to, intentionally or not, say or write things to make my day.

Bon Weekend!


It's Indaface!

I was not able to tune into the Pistons game last night until there was about 8 minutes left in the fourth quarter. I grabbed a seat at the bar next to a guy who was fixated on the game.
"What's the score?"
"Pistons are up by a couple"
"How has the game been?"
"It's been pretty tight. Pretty good game." (failed to mention the McDyess ejection)
"Nice. Are you a Pistons or Cavs guy?"
"I'm a LeBron James fan."
"Yeah, I'm a Pistons fan so I'm just glad we're playing the Cavs and not him. How has he played tonight?"
"Pretty good, he's been more of a set-up guy for his teammates tonight."

Maybe up until then he was. From the moment I sat down until about an hour later when the game ended, I watched my beloved Pistons, a team, play basketball against one guy, and get their butts kicked. I may have seen a more dominant performance by an individual in a team sport, but I cannot recall one. The game where Michael Vick ran for the touchdown in overtime against the Vikings was close, but only for a few moments. Last night was Vick scrambling for twenty straight plays over a few drives, scoring touchdowns at the end of each, in the playoffs, on the road, against the Ravens or Bears.

It was a strange feeling watching the end of that game as a Pistons fan. Of course I wanted the Pistons to win, but how can you not appreciate a performance that will be preserved in history? There will undoubtedly be some sort of display or artwork in the basketball hall of fame in Springfield, MA commemorating the play of one LeBron James on Thursday, May 31st, 2007 in Auburn Hills, MI. It didn't feel fair. It didn't feel fair that one man could be so much better than everyone else on the floor. Combined. Imagine yourself as one of his teammates at the end of the game. Would you dare shoot the ball with what was going on? Fuck no. From the point in the game when I started watching until the final buzzer sounded, the ego of every person associated with the game of basketball was flattened. This Detroit Pistons team was built by Joe Dumars to be a collection of excellent basketball players who play as a team, executing in all of the unglamorous ways it takes to win against a team built around a superstar. Excellent team defense. Balanced scoring. Good decisions. Last night LeBron James micturated upon the Joe Dumars model of winning basketball games.

For the first time this season, I found myself wishing that we still had Ben Wallace. Watching LeBron soar through the middle of the lane to dunk the ball unchallenged was painful. I'm not sure if Ben could have prevented some of the emasculation that took place last night. His faults in other aspects of his game could have made things worse, but it was clear that Deee-troit bass-ketball had nothing on Lebron and its reign over the Central Division is over.

Fortunately for the Pistons, this series is not over. As brilliant as LeBron was in game five, it is not certain that he will be able to repeat it in game six or seven, if it gets that far. All a Pistons fan can hope for now is that they play at least as well as they did last night and for LeBron to play like a superstar instead of whatever the fuck he was last night, which was basically the AIDS virus of the game of basketball.

"You can't stop him, you can only hope to contain him."

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