Friday, May 30, 2008
...Sorry, you'll have excuse me for a moment there. I was kneeling at my desk in my cube worshipping the keyboard before I typed in the word "Urlacher" into blogger, standard operating procedure for Chicagoans like me in this great (kneels) Urlacher era.
Look, I've always liked the guy for his performance on the field, and I could really give shit less what he does off of it.
With that said, I'm glad that he decided not to pull a Lance Briggs and be a bitch about the situation. In case you're wondering what the contract is at currently and what's being talked about, I give you my favorite Bears scribe, the Chicago Tribune's David Haugh:
The crux of (Urlacher's) argument always has attacked the NFL's system of non-guaranteed contracts as much as the Bears. His main contention revolves around the idea that long-term NFL contracts aren't worth the paper they're faxed on. the Bears' extension offer, ironically, in essence confirms his point.
On the surface, the $18 million extension sounds robust until you factor in the reported $9 million base salary for the extra season in 2012 written into the deal. Urlacher would be 34.
If he's even still playing for the Bears at that point, you can bet a case of Vitamin Water the team will rework his deal before paying him $9 million for a 13th season.
So in reality, the offer isn't really worth $18 million just as the deal Urlacher signed in 2003 wasn't really ever expected to hold up nine years.
Like it or not, long-term NFL contracts are written to be rewritten.
Reluctantly, the Bears have fairly done so with Urlacher's contract after initially being cool to the idea. It now awaits his signature.
At this point, Urlacher should view the $5 million signing bonus as part of the Bears' $18 million extension a reasonable meeting point. The money up front matches the bonuses given Alex Brown and Desmond Clark and represents the respect Urlacher craved
While I think it's important to pay him what he has earned, you have to wonder how this all figures in with Tommie Harris and his contract demands. Harris is the future of this team, not Urlacher. How do you go about paying Harris when dipshit organizations like the Raiders are giving out 7 year, 50.5 million dollar contracts to no names like Tommy Kelly? Seriously, who the fuck is this guy?
My solution: pay Urlacher before you pay Harris. The reason: if you pay Tommie Harris a good chunk of change before Urlacher, #54 will get pissed and want more then the Bears are willing to pay him. And if Urlacher did accept in his eyes what he saw to be a lower then he wanted amount, he'd be a fucking malcontent in the locker room. By giving him what he wants now, you can focus squarely on Harris.
Then maybe Jerry Angelo can get to work on this whole QB situation, which should be just as big of a pain in the ass.
Thursday, May 29, 2008
An Illinois guy? A former Bulls coach? Someone with head coaching experience? The new head coach of the 2008-09 Bulls? Doug Collins?
Yes, it appears Collins fits into each of the above questions, as K.C. Johnson reports that GM John Paxson is expected to hire his former coach.
While my immediate reaction to this news was shock, I admit I am somewhat pleased after looking beyond the surface of hiring someone who looks pretty comfortable in the broadcast booth over at TNT.
Collins began his NBA coaching career as head coach for the Chicago Bulls, joining the organization on May 23, 1986 and coached the Bulls for three straight seasons. He coached them to their best record (50-32) in 15 years during the 1987-88 season. He also brought the team into the playoffs three straight seasons, losing in the Eastern Conference Finals to Detroit, 4-2, during the 1988-89 season.
Much has been made over at Blogabull about the fact that Collins' teams finished in the bottom of the league in pace during his tenure as the Bulls head coach from 1986-89.
While this is true, I wouldn't use one random statistic to determine the validity of whether or not the man can coach. If you look at the teams that finished 1st in Pace during Collins' tenure, you'll see the Denver Nuggets lead every year.
While that's all well and good for the Nuggets, their high pace didn't necessarily lead them to the NBA Finals as they were only able to make it as far as the Western Conference Semifinals in 1987.
The Nuggets were swept in the 1st round both in 1986 by the Lakers (10th in the NBA Pace at 101.6), and again were swept in 1989 by the Suns, while the Pistons went on to win the 1989 NBA Finals, despite finishing dead last in Pace at 95.5.
Let's look at how Collins' Bulls teams fared in pace in relation to the league average and compare it to the Bulls' Pace from the last three years under Scott Skiles:
Seeing what I'm seeing? While I'm sure Paxson isn't even aware of this small statistical aspect, apparently the entire league's Pace has slowed considerably. Going back to what I said about the Nuggets before and even applying that idea to the Suns and the Warriors: high pace doesn't equal championship teams.
Teams like Phoenix and Golden State are still playing uptempo, but the numbers just aren't what they were 10-15 years ago. Chalk it up to better defense, more athletic players or a more individualistic game, but it looks like Pax might be going with just the right candidate for the job.
Collins is a firey individual, unlike a certain Skiles butt buddy who just sat around moping all the time and provided the occasional jab in the media.
Paxson's next job will be to collaborate with Collins and bring in some high-quality assistants to keep the team moving along in his direction. Clearly there will be some trades made before the next season starts, but having the right personnel in place is the first step to establishing some solid ground for the young players who are going to be the foundation from which the next five, 10 years of this program is built upon.
Call me an optimist but I think the D'Antoni baffle could be a blessing in disguise for the Bulls. Sure he would have came in here and ran the Bulls up and down every night, assuring Big Macs for every fan while the team struggled to stay at .500. Collins will bring invaluable coaching experience and lessons from an era where MJ and Pippen started on their paths to greatness. How many stories do you think he has about Jordan fighting someone in practice over their lazy attitude? Think our current team needs those to be pounded into their heads everyday? I do. Collins can be the guy to maximize the amount of talent that these young guys possess.
And if that doesn't happen, let's remember that the Bulls replaced Collins with his assistant coach, Phil Jackson, who went on to do some pretty good things. So we got that going for us, which is nice.
If you've spent any amount of time reading this blog, I'm sure you're aware of how critical I am of all the shit that Kenny Williams does. From Todd (I thought a 6 ERA was a good thing) Ritchie and David (Feed my fat fucking face NOW!) Wells to David (well my work here after a month is done) Aardsma and Andrew (the no strike) Sisco kid.
But, the man also done many things right (ie Freddy Garcia, Scott Podsednik in 05'). The latest thumbs up? Carlos Quentin. A first round draft pick that didn't materialize in Arizona A guy who came in off of shoulder surgery that no one had in the starting line-up before spring began, let alone be in the top five of almost every statistical AL hitting category. Just look:
I think you can account at least 7 wins alone because of Quentin. Outside of him, Crede's good start in April and Jermaine, you're pretty much looking at the same offensive production as the 07' White Sox all over again. Thome couldn't hit a beach ball right now and is 4th in the AL with 52 strikeouts. There's absolutely no reason for him to be in the line-up when the Sox are facing a lefty. Konerko's hand has been hurt, and can't do much of anything with it. New additions Nick Swisher and Orlando Cabrera haven't done jack shit. Juan Uribe is...Juan Uribe. The same piece of shit he has been in the past 3 years.
While I'm off on a tangent here, you know I'm sick of hearing? "These guys will come around..they're professional hitters."
Save me the guff, you fucking apologists. Konerko is on the down side of his career, and Thome is pretty much done. After this year, be rid of them.
Alright, where was I? Ah yes, Carlos Quentin is a fucking champ. Even though some of the White Sox scouts have been eyeing the team's bank account more then the talent, they definitely got this one right.
Kenny, as much as I get pissed off at you, and probably will again soon; hats off to you pal. Bravo.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Diet Book Author Advocates New 'No Food Diet'
One of my office co-workers forwarded this over to me, and towards the end when they talked about eating telephones it made me think of a true story regarding Noce. He has a bit of a knack for going through cell phones faster then a Kenyan through a marathon. He once wanted to make a sandwich in the microwave when he was wasted late at night. Sandwich in one hand, cell phone in the other. If you guessed he decided to microwave the cell phone and talk on the sandwich, you my friend are correct.
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
The 92nd Running of the Indy 500: Sights, Loud Sounds, Drunken Debauchery, and Debating Why The Tallest Building in Indianapolis is "Stupid"
Whether or not you believe the Indianapolis 500 is still the "Greatest Spectacle in Racing" is not what this post is about. It's not about Scott Dixon, or the merger of the IRL and Champ Car. It will be a little bit about Danica, but nothing to do with the events of the race. What this post IS about is the experience of the race, and why it's so special. As I have said before, I would never watch or care about the 500 if I had never been there. It's just something you have to be apart to understand why it's so special and great.
With that said, I took all these pictures to give you an idea of my experience was like:
Downtown Indianapolis as we drive towards the speedway. Departure time from the hotel we stay at every year: 6am. Amount of sleep before the race: 0 minutes thanks to Noce snoring louder then a fucking freight train. Scale of drunkenness/hungover: 7.5 thanks also to Noce who decided one more double Jack and Coke for Dr. C before leaving the bar was a good idea after we watched B.J. Penn destroy that pussy Sean Sherk.
This is the grass parking lot outside of turns 3 and 4 where we usually park. The field is about 5 or 6 football fields long, and fills up pretty damn fast. As you drive along you'll see the dedicated few already doing beer bongs at this hour in the houses along street to the entrance. These people will never watch the race in its entirety.
It's around 10:15 at the time of this picture. We cracked open our first beer around 8-8:30 after breakfast. One of the great things about the race is the people around you serving as your new little community for a few hours. Almost everyone is really friendly, and more then willing give you food, beer, etc. It makes for a great atmosphere as you get ready to head to the gates.
At around 11:30 is when we decided to head in for the race. Since we got there pretty early, and ahead of a bunch of other people thanks in part to the secret passage way which will remain a secret, we were pretty close to the gates. When you get to the gates, there's about 4 or 5 security people there to check your stuff and your ticket. As I forgot, there is a limit to the size of the cooler you can bring (no longer or wider then 14 inches on either side. They don't have rulers out there, so if it's close you'll be fine, but don't get too crazy with what you think can bring in). So I bought a cheap Styrofoam container and filled it up for the walk:
I used to be pretty good about working out a few years ago. Now, outside of 12oz curls, I don't really lift anymore. So carrying this fucking cooler to our seats and walking up the stands was not too far off from Prometheus pushing the rock up a hill continuously for his punishment of giving man fire. The fucking thing weighed at least 50-60 pounds. But, I did what I had to to make it work (only took one break, promise).
While we were taking this break, my friend's brother ran into some people he knew. While he talked them, his girlfriend stood with us as she didn't know them. This girl is smoking fucking hot (lucky bastard), and while we were waiting, the social experiment of how many guys would turn to look at her while passing by was easily the funniest moment of the day. Her ability to turn 99% of male heads made a 20 car pile-up look like a joke.
Turn 3 looking into Turn 4
Monitor, overlooking the infield in turns 3 and 4
First lap..I think
I put this picture up to give you an idea of how tight of an area you get. You're sitting on a metal bench with a small number on it, and as you can see to the bottom left, alot of people purch seatback rentals for the race. What does this mean? A fucking balancing act and a half as you try to get past people on your way to the bathrooms. As the race went on, I had a hell of a time trying to weave in and out of people thanks to drinking oh say 7 or 8 Miller Lites, a couple jello shots and quite a few Vodka-Red Bulls before lap 100 (200 laps in all). Needless to say, I was stumbling anywhere I went past people in the rows, and I'm sure I kicked over drinks and stepped on many toe. Shit happens, people. Deal with it.
One of the ladies working the event. She was hot.
Not sure at what part of the race this is, but it's my best getting all the cars in there.
Around lap 150 I was pretty hammered. I decided to see if anyone else was considering a break over on the golf course which is next to the track, and has a few holes inside of it. Low and behold, I was right. I think sat down for like 20 laps enjoying a cigarette before heading in for the finish.
LET STUPIDITY RING: So the race ends, Dixon wins, blah blah blah. We went back to our cars, and we had a designated driver for us, which was my friends dad's frat buddy from back in the day. As he drives me, Noce, and our other buddy, I look over at the Chase Tower in downtown Indianapolis and declare, "That building sucks. It's not that tall. Why the fuck does it need the two prongs at the top of it? Sears Tower is way bigger and hence needs it. Noce: probably because it's the biggest building in the area for planes. Dr. C: Well, its still fucking stupid. Someone should get rid of it." That was pretty much the entire debate, yet it must have last the whole 20 minute car ride back to the hotel and it got pretty intense. That's what Chicago Bull is all about. Debating the stupidest fucking thing you could possibly imagine, but yet taking it seriously. I look back on now thinking if I was my friend's old frat buddy, I would have told us to shut the fuck up or be dropped off in the ghetto.
DANICA IS REALLY NICE TO HER FANS: Alright, I happen to have met someone who is associated with one of the teams that were in the pits quite a few times in going to the 500, and when we started talking about the race, here's the conversation:
Person: Do you like Danica?
Dr. C: I don't have anything against her.
Person: Well, I can tell you that she's the biggest diva bitch I've ever met.
Dr. C: Really? I could see that.
Person: Having been here for this week with all the qualifying and events, everything I've seen from her and heard from everyone else is nothing but bad. I haven't heard one good thing from her. When she was doing an autograph session, a nice older woman came up to her table with her daughter and something for Danica to sign. When she finally got up to Danica, she handed the item to her, and said something to the extent of my daughter is a begin fan of yours. Before she even got done saying that, Danica immediately said, where's your pen in a pissy tone. The woman apologized saying she thought there would be one up here that Danica was already using. In the middle of her explaining that, Danica got up, grabbed a pen from another person in line, signed it quickly while saying "maybe next time you'll remember to BRING it".
I'm sorry, but what a fucking bitch. I understand that people have bad days and everything, and if it was just the lady by herself who didn't know any better, I could give her a pass. But not when you have her and the daughter who wants nothing more then to meet her "idol" and get an autograph. Grow up you fucking bitch and act like you actually care about your fans. Maybe Midol can sponsor her next autograph session.
Friday, May 23, 2008
One of my buddies from Phoenix was in town last night and told me to watch this.
**Noce says he found it first, and told our friend. Too fucking bad Noce, Wiese gets credit.
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Longevity. Something that every athlete hopes for in their careers, no matter what the sport. While it's something you can count on more if you're a golfer in terms of physical wellness, in the 3 major US sports it could be here today, gone tomorrow. Of these three, football takes a greater toll then it's mainstream counterparts.
While I can't speak for their reasons, I could imagine that fact played a role for players such as Drew Henson and Joe Mauer who chose the diamond over the gridiron. However, I would argue that baseball is not as clear cut a path as football is, and these two are the perfect examples. Mauer and Henson were top level quarterbacks in high school (Mauer didn't play college football). Look where they are today. Mauer is an all-star for the Twins, and Henson had to retreat back to football after toiling around in the Yankees system. Henson is now looking for work in the NFL after being cut in late October last year by the Jaguars.
Whether former Notre Dame receiver Jeff Samardzija will stand out as a Chicago Cub some day has yet to be seen, he's hit a bit a rough spot right now at Double-A Tennessee:
Tuesday, however, he gave up six runs in five innings to Mississippi in his third consecutive start of allowing six or more runs. Over his last six starts, Samardzija has allowed 27 runs in 251/3 innings for a 9.59 earned-run average, with 26 walks and 17 strikeouts.
This is not to say that he won't or can't turn thing around at this point. He's only been in the Cubs system for about a year now. However, think about the money he turned down when he signed a 5 year, $10 million dollar deal with the Cubs. In 2007, Calvin Johnson signed a 6 year, $64 million dollar deal as the number 2 pick in the draft and first receiver taken. Where Samardzija would have went in the draft is speculatory, however scouts had him as a mid-late first round pick before he inked his contract with the North siders. At the fourteenth pick, Darrelle Revis signed with the Jets for 6 years, $36 million.
That's alot of cash Samardzija missed out on to get 20 bucks a day for food in Kodak, Tennessee. While the path is not as clear to a starting spot in the MLB as it is in the NFL, it appears as though Samardzija could be at a crossroads soon. Joining the ranks of Mauer and others in the mid-July classic, or shuffling from NFL roster to roster hoping to prove himself as a possession receiver who can still go over the middle. Only time will tell.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
moar funny pictures
In life, I think one of most important things is to be modest. While it's good to have high expectations, you should understand that sometimes things don't work out like you want them to. Did I want to be a all-pro runningback at the age of 11 and play in the NFL? Sure I did! What happened that year? Some little prick from Carol Stream broke my fucking femur on a counter play. End of NFL dreams for Dr. C.
I mention this story to you because before this season began for the Chicago White Sox, I was cautiously optimistic. I knew bringing in Nick Swisher and Orlando Cabrera would make the team better, but good enough to win the division? Certainly not, I thought. Still, a better year than last year was all I hoped for. And to this point, I have not been disappointed at all. Here they are, 24-20 and in first place none the less.
Now, there is a flipside to this. There are certain people who are greedy. They like to believe that no matter what happens, there's always something that needs to be fixed. Two people that quickly come to mind: my ex-girlfriend and Kenny Williams. While the obvious physical comparisons go out the window fast, their mentality on life is one in the same. Here's what Kenny has to say about the season so far: For example:
"I can't stop thinking about what is now 10 [more] games we should have won," he said. "And I'm not talking about anything extraordinary, I'm just talking about playing the game the way it should have been played. The positive thing is we are where we are, but it is far less than where we should be."
Shit happens, Kenny. Move on.
"I guess it's better than second," Williams said. "Seriously, congratulations. But it's still far short of where we should be.
Maybe so, but this team was picked to finish where they did because of how they performed last year, and the fact that their old asses are getting older everyday. Start fucking enjoying this shit, Kenny.
That's why the picture above is up there. Has nothing to do with anything. I just enjoy it for what is. Now it's your turn with your product on the field.
Excellent finisher. Blinding speed. Powerful leaper. Rare ability to create passing lanes. Clutch player who raises his level of play against good competition and wants the ball in crunch time. Hits his foul shots at a good rate. Very team-oriented with a great attitude. Willing to learn, very coachable and still improving.
Still need any reasons to look past Derrick Rose with the first pick? If the answer is yes, you're either sniffing glue or Chad Ford.
He's a Chicago guy who led Simeon to two state championships, the guy who's nickname - The Great Poohdini - is about as crazy as his fear of needles. Call him whatever he wants to be called but draft him, sign him and make sure he brings his dribbling skills because he's a guy who's going to make everyone on the Bulls roster immediately better just by showing up.
John Paxson should be at Rose's house right now with a whiteboard and an eraseable marker diagramming every possible way he can throw alley oops to Tyrus Thomas all night.
I have no idea what Pax is planning to do with the current cast of players but Rose succeeded at Memphis playing a run-and-gun style of basketball. This is something the Bulls can surely be capable of with Thomas, Luol Deng and Joakim Noah all young and able to run all over the floor.
Drafting Rose would certainly mean the end for a couple players currently on the Bulls roster. Thabo Sephalosha, Larry Hughes, and Kirk Hinrich would almost certainly be either relegated to the end of the bench or traded because I'm assuming Rose would handle the ball 90% of the time.
Even Larry Hughes knows Larry Hughes has to have the ball in his hands if he's going to score points, so take a seat until your contract is up or someone calls about a trade. Thabo had his chances here and definitely showed some flashes of talent, but he's not anywhere near Rose's level when it comes to running an offense and being confident with the ball.
As far as Kirk goes, well where do I start? Could it be that he's past his prime? Did he ever have a prime? Is he a point guard or a shooting guard? Can he stay out of foul trouble? Does he know how to lead a team? Does Nick Collison take up his entire fave five? Is he too white to play basketball? I doubt even Kirk would have the answer to most of those questions, and even if he did, he'd be too busy counting his money to stop and answer them.
Where was I going with this? Oh yea, Derrick Rose. DRAFT HIM. The United Center will be rocking every game with their hometown boy leading the way toward 10 years of glory.
And by the way Pax, maybe you should give John Calipari an interview for that vacant head coaching position. I think he knows a little bit about the kid and how to get the best from him.
Pam Beasley, Dunder-Mifflin.
TIRICO: Blah Blah Blah Pam Beasley, Dunder-Mifflin. Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah (with gusto) Jay Bilas, Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah
BILAS: Well, the Bulls decided to go Beasley here, and it's pretty easy to see why. Let's talk about the obvious strengths that Beasley brings:
1. The 90 WPM. Hard to debate someone who can draft up a memo in seconds instead of minutes. With that ability to communicate, the Bulls front office is going to be more connected. What does that mean? Tyrus Thomas will have no excuses for not getting new practice times. John Paxson will have his latte with skim milk. Larry Hughes will have his prostitutes waiting in his limo immediately after the game. Drew Gooden will have a barber. All good things point to Beasley with getting this team back on track to the Eastern Conference Championship.
2. Cultured Ideas. Do you think Derrick Rose would have instuted the Finer Things Club for Memphis? Ideas like this will get this me-first team to blend into one, which is exactly what they needed last year. Let's not forget this team is only a year removed from a 49 win season. They needed to think outside the box here, but it looks like they had box on their mind all along.
3. Her Sense of Humor. The Bulls have had a recent history of rough starts on the road due to their early season West coast trips in November. They've needed more than a post presence is a good laugh or two at Chris Duhon's expense. Will Duhon be back next year? The signing of Beasley to make him the brunt of her gags says yes.
TIRICO: Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Beasley. Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Bulls Blah Blah Blah. Stephen A, Blah Blah Blah Blah?
STEPHEN A.: ARE WE BEING SERIOUS HERE? YOU TALK ABOUT A NEEDING A POINT GUARD, NEEDING A POST PRESENCE, AND THEY GOT SOME WHITE BITCH TO ANSWER THE PHONES! YOU CAN'T BE SERIOUS! IT'S OBVIOUS THEY COULD HAVE GONE WITH THE HOMETOWN KID. IT'S OBVIOUS THEY COULD HAVE GOTTEN A BEAST. YET THEY GET A BITCH?! YOU CAN'T BE SERIOUS! WHERE'D MY CHEESE DOODLES GO! IS STEPHEN GONNA HAVE TO SLAP A BITCH?
TIRICO: Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah, Miami is on the clock.
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
(At the Milwaukee Bucks press conference, Scott Skiles is at the podium taking questions from the media)
SKILES: Good Morning. Alright, you all know that were looking to hit the ground running here. I believe we have alot of the right pieces to the puzzle as we start off. I think Michael Redd can take his star to the next level in this game, and he has some good young talent to build around. But to really work with these younger guys is something that I don't like to do. My job is to berate, belittle, holler, scream, shout, screech, yell, yawp, yell, and get these guys to MOVEIT. Teach? Not me. That's why I'd like to announce that the Milwaukee Bucks would like to welcome Kelvin Sampson to our coaching staff. Kelvin?
(Turns to shake Kelvin's hand...Kelvin is nowhere to be found)
SKILES: Kelvin? KELVIN? KEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLLLLLVVVVVVVVVVVIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNNNNNN!!!!!!!!!!!!
(Meanwhile, close a telephone booth in near by Racine, Sampson is sitting in a car outside of a Red Roof Inn texting on his phone)
SAMPSON'S PHONE: BARON, THIS IS KELVIN SAMPSON. IM W/THE BUCKS. WE WANT YOU. CALL ME L8R
(shuffles through his free agent list)
SAMPSON'S PHONE: P.J. BROWN, THIS IS KELVIN SAMPSON. IM W/MILWAUKEE. OMG G8R SHOT. WANT #93 for 930K? HOOK IT UP, LOOK ME UP
SAMPSON'S PHONE: JAMESON CURRY, THIS IS KELVIN SAMPSON. ICUP'D ON BOISE. NO PROB. WE CAN DO WORK. TTYL
(Phone rings, Baron Davis is calling back)
SAMPSON: Fuck, why is he calling? I can get in big trouble for this shit? Doesn't he know you're just supposed to hit me back with a text? Shit!
(Sneaks over to the phone booth, calls Baron back)
SAMPSON: (whispering) is this Baron?
BARON: Fuck, who think is this fresh on the phone?
SAMPSON: (whispering) oh neato! Baron, I'm with Milwaukee now, and we want you to be a young buck.
BARON: The fuck you whispering for, dog? This a real man's game now, ain't no bullshitin' gone on. And guess what? Fuck Young Buck. Muthafucka ain't got shit on my rap game. You see me spittin?
SAMPSON: Ummm...ye..yeah! Fresh rhymes, indeed. Look, I don't want to take much of your time. Think about Milwaukee, and just stick to texts, ok?
BARON: Whatever, dog. Peace
SAMPSON: Phew, that was close! If only Miles Brand saw me working the phones like this...oh wait, aren't I supposed to be somwhere right now?
(Looks across the street, sees an IHOP)
SAMPSON: Oh yeah, Canadian Bacon time!!!!
Monday, May 19, 2008
I have never been to a Super Bowl. I've never been to a World Series, an NBA Finals game or a Soccer game for that matter. I hear the World's largest outdoor cocktail party game between Georgia and Florida is great. But I can only speak of the experiences I have had personally, and for my money, it doesn't get any better then the Indianapolis 500. There are several reasons why, and some you just can't appreciate unless you're there to experience it. But I'll do my best to give you an idea of what the Indy 500 is like from the 5 times I've been there, and try to convince why you must go to the largest sporting event in the world.
1. Even if you hate racing, you will still enjoy it.
Before I went to my first Indy 500 back in 2001, you couldn't pay me to watching any form of racing. NASCAR, Open wheel, fuck, you could have topless girls driving..and wait...ok I'd definitely watch that, but you get the point. Well, back in 01' I was not of legal drinking age. But I did enjoy throwing shit at the people who passed out on the lawn below our seats.
Anyways, on Sunday when you go to the race, you'd be better be at the track waiting in line to park by 6am, or else you're going to be walking your candy ass a long ways. A friend of mine's dad has been going to 500 since '61, and has only missed two or three years. He has a secret street that he uses to get by a ton of the crowd, and would probably kill me if blurted it out on here. I'm not sure if the street really saves you that much time, but even saying the street's name out loud in the car pisses him off.
When you finally pull into the area in which you're going to park (we generally park in a huge grass field near turn 3). You can A: sleep in your car for a couple hours, B: Set up shop and start making breakfast, or the ever popular C: Start drinking like a fucking maniac who's sure to pass out on the golf course adjacent to the track.
Now being of age to legally crush Miller Lite cans on my forehead after finishing them in the field, I usually go with option A, followed by B and C. This is because I'm still drunk from the night before when we go drink at a pub down the street from the hotel we always stay at. At around 8:30, it's time to get up. The race doesn't start until around 1, so you have plenty of time to drink. Remember, the race is fucking long, and YOU ARE ALLOWED TO BRING COOLERS INTO THE STANDS. let me repeat that; you can bring as much alcohol as you please to the metal bench you will sit on.
Once you get inside the race, it's an amazing sight to see 300,000-400,000 people within a 2.5 mile radius of you. It's probably even more amazing how much alcohol is being consumed on the day alone. But what's most amazing of all is the sound of the engines.
I cannot begin to tell you how fucking loud they are. Imagine a billion bees that have little rockets on their back, are really pissed, and are going around in a long cirlcle. That's the best way I describe it. Once the race starts, you have 15-20 second intervals to talk. In other words, start a sentence, wait...finish it. For husbands, this is 3 hours of having your wife shut up and not asking you questions.
And holy shit are those cars fast. Watching 230 mph Indy cars = boring. Watching them in person = crazy. I don't how those fucking drivers do it. The second they come into your turn, they are gone just as fast. And while you're wondering where they went, they've already passed you again.
Right around when the race might start to get boring is when the people around become their show. Keep in my mind that most of these 'people' are going to somewhat hickish, and double digits deep into the Budweiser. Whether its tits being flashed, the beach ball bouncing around that knocks over an old person walking along the concourse, or the 4 year old boy standing outside of a men's last year holding a Busch can looking pissed off, there's something for everybody.
Last year during the rain delay, we went to the top of our section and screamed down at women to flash. While you take the good (20 year with a nice rack) with the bad (saggy 50-year old fatty titties), tits are still tits.
2. Drinking is cheap
Let's face it; you want to get the most bang for your buck and get shitfaced. That's makes tailgating for baseball so important. I certainly don't enjoy paying 6.25 for a cup of Miller Lite if it's my first beer. Me, Noce, and our buddy each drank a case of beer over the course of 12 hours.
Needless to say, I banged my knee into the metal benches at some point, and later looked down to find a Mississippi River of O+ positive mostly alcholic blood stream down to my shoe. Not having any napkins, I just Macgyver'ed my a portion of shorts by cutting them and making a little turniquet. Did it work? Not really, but shit I was proud of my handy work.
I spent 13.99 for that case of beer. I drank every last one of them. Your wallet will thank you, but your liver sure as shit won't.
3. Pick a horse and hope to win
This is Dan Wheldon, winnner of the race and IRL in 2005. He's British, so he talks like a douche, and has the gayest hair ever, which makes him more of a douche. But, boy can the motherfucker drive. I would never root for this tool. But I did in 05' when we cut up the Indianapolis star with the all the drivers, and drew randomly for $3 bucks a car. I ended up winning 30 bucks. Not a ton of money, but mostly fun for the fact that you can have some to root for even when you have no clue who the fuck anyone is.
Going into this year, I still don't have a clue about most of the drivers in the field of 33, but I recognize some of the names. I guess when you think about it, it doesn't really matter who wins the race. It's me. I'm the winner. I get to spend my entire day outside, enjoying multiple cold drinks with my buddies. Just writing this post has excited for Sunday. I'm going to be bringing my digital camera this year since I never fucking use it, and I'll get as my photos as possible to pass along to you.
My Pick to win: Tony Kanaan.
My Pick to crash first: Danica Patrick
Friday, May 16, 2008
I must apologize for the lack of posting this week. I normally try to post at least once everyday (Noce tries once a month), but with the Sox on the West coast, and the Cubs beating up on the shitass Padres, I haven't been watching too much baseball.
I will say I'm happy that the Sox managed to break even in Anaheim. Ozzie moving Quentin to the third spot has paid off huge.
I have actually watched the Cubs during this week, and I have to say that even though San Diego swings more at bad pitches than Wil Cordero does at his wife, they've looked pretty damn good. Theriot is a champ. Ok, no more blasphemous Cubs praising.
Quick random question: I take you've watched Cathouse on HBO, people. Which of the girls would you choose? I sure as shit wouldn't take Air Force Amy. Her mouth would make Eight Belles blush. So I ask you: WHO YOU GOT????
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Friday, May 9, 2008
"Who cares about Britney Spears? But she's on TV everyday. Why do think people give a shit about Jose Conseco? That shit sells".
Ozzie doesn't just want someone with a cannon to unleash on runners, but someone who will also eat the remains after blowing them up. Without further adeiu, I present some of the new prospects Ozzie's eyeing soon to be wearing the silver and black:
Charles Manson, RF
Sure Charlie's been in the pen for awhile. But he's due for parole in 2012, which is right around when the Sox will finally give up on the Jerry Owens experience. Charlie will be in the upper 70's at that point, but if Minnie Minoso can get on the field in the 70's, I'll put some coin down that Charlie can, too. Plus, he's been working out hard in stockyard weight bench. And he's been staying put so he's fresh.
Ozzie's take: I like Manson. He can hit ball goood, he a real leader. He come into clubhouse and make the younger guys respect him and do what he say.
Johnathan Lee Riches, 2B
When he's not suing Michael Vick for $63,000,000,000 Billion for his ties to Al-Qaida, or suing Jeff Gordon for $22,000,000,000 Billion for tying him to a bumper at Talladega, Johnathan Lee Riches is stealing left and right. He too will have his parole up in 2012, and with the lack of stolen bases on the year, Ozzie like what he hears.
Ozzie's take: We no have speed on the bases right now. We need play Ozzie Ball. This kid not only can steal, but he crazy as shit. That why everyone talks about him. I think he fit this fuckin' team perfectly.
Mike Tyson, DH
Does it get any crazier then a man who can hit a ball to Bolivian? At 41, he's in right in the Jim Thome age range, but doesn't pull the ball as much and can actually hit lefties which proves to be an immediately upgrade. When he's not on the white, you can expect in on the White Sox soon. Possibly by Sunday.
Ozzie's take: When you get a guy like Mike Tyson who's fucking crazier then me, then you say something. You say, if you throw inside on him, he gonna bit your fucking ear off. I would no throw inside him. That for fucking sure. Maybe I get him to punch that faggot Mariotti in the face.."
Thursday, May 8, 2008
/Buehrle enters dugout after getting shelled by the Twins to the tune of 5.2IP, 9H, 7R, 7ER
(Innermonologue) MOTHERFUCKER! HOW COULD I THROW SUCH DOGSHIT TO A SHITTY NO-NAME TEAM! FUCK! First Jamie said no more sex until I get a win, and now this. FUCK!
The FUCK you looking at, Space Heater?! Yeah you, MOTHERFUCKER! WHAT..ARE..YOU..LOOKING AT?! I'm talking to you! Do you know who I am? You fucking know damn well who I am! I'm the guy who barely reaches 88! I'm the guy with a beard from St. Louis! I'm guy sexually depraved for the past month! FUCK YOU!
(Silence still from the Space Heater)
No acknowledgement?! FUCK IT!
(Grabs Juan Uribe's bat)
Uribe: NO USE BAT! NO USE BAT!
Buehrle: Fuck off, Juan! LAMA MIS BOLAS!
(Starts beating the shit of the space heater to no avail)
Buehrle: Aww...Fuck it. I can't even beat a space heater. Wish I had a heater. All I can do is throw batting practice.
Uribe: Buuly..Can you teach Juan hit like that? Juan no see nothing like that in long time.
Buehrle: Forget it Juan. Va la cogida su madre.
Uribe: Juan forget to speak spanish. Juan no know what means.
Buehrle: I SAID GO FUCK YOUR MOTHER!
Uribe: That no nice. Juan go listen to Grandpa Contreras talk Octopus
(Buehrle exits, Uribe inspects Space Heater for Clues)
(Uribe Innermonologue) Man, Juan take home and think this one out. If help fastball hit, it worth shot...
Who would have thought that the media would blow up (no pun intended) a seemingly harmless story into a city-wide feud? Well they have.
It started when Carol Slezak, one of the Sun Times' pencil jockeys, penned a column bashing Ozzie Guillen, Kenny Williams and about half of the Sox batting order for pulling a Major League-like attempt at waking up their lousy bats.
The funny thing is, Slezak wasn't even at the fucking game in Toronto and yet she still felt the need as a woman, and as a "journalist", to call out the entire organization.
I'd keep going but Mike Downey, apparently on hiatus from his duties as Dennis Franz' body double, wrote a suprisingly witty and appropriate column in response to Slezak's piece today.
Downey points out the glaring hypocrisy of Slezak's words displayed on the same page as ads for hookers and other sleazy (not Slezak but I like where your head's at) smut that the "Chicago Scum-Times" runs on a daily basis.
"Sensitivity training" was one of the things the White Sox obviously need, according to the Sun-Times, the home of ads like this one in its Tuesday's sports pages:2 Girls—At Once! Feel the Youth."Schoolgirlfun.com took out that ad. I guess it must be part of a Sun-Times campaign to support girls doing their homework together for school."
Ouch. Do you hear that? It's the sound of the Tribune rubbing the Sun-Times' collective face into a huge pile of shit that they call a newspaper.
Sure they could have waited until they were within the confines of their own stadium, but honestly, is that really that offensive to women? It can't be nearly as offensive toward women as this is.
In other news both the Sox and the Cubs lost. Puppies are cute, the sky is blue and Vince Vaughn just got done snorting lines off of a 17-year old Russian prostitute named Svetlana. Now THAT'S how you offend women.