Bye, Bye Mr. Grossman

According to the Chicago Suns-Time (and other media sources), Brian Griese will be starting for the Chicago Bears when they play the Detroit Lions on Sunday. This means that my personal hero, and favorite NFL player, Rex Grossman, will be sitting on the sidelines for the game. To say that I’m sad is a gross understatement.

Call me an idiot, call me brain-dead and bone-headed and whatever else you will. I don’t care. If I feel like having a two-bit quarterback as my personal hero, then I’m completely entitled to it. You also entitled to laugh at me now. Don’t worry, I’m used to it. I’ve been a Chicago Blackhawks fan all my life. As a side note, Chris Chelios, a former Blackhawks defenseman, is my favorite player in the NHL and will begin this season at age 45 playing for Detroit. He’s only six years younger than my dad, and he’s playing professional hockey for one of the best teams in the nation. My father, on the other hand, has never played any sports professionally. He’s just a slacker like that.

I understand why Mr. Grossman is getting sidelined this week. And honestly, it’s probably the right thing to do. When it comes right down to it, I trust Lovie Smith. He’s brought the Bears back to glory, and when it comes to coaching in the National Football League, that man knows what he’s doing. With Chicago’s offense seriously lacking the past three weeks, the coaching staff needs to do something to shake things up and get some production on the field.

If they want my advice (and I’m guessing that they don’t, seeing as how I’ve never played a competitive game of football in my life), they should try to quit turning the ball over. Ten turnovers in three games isn’t something you want to be proud of. I’m not entirely convinced changing quarterbacks will reverse this negative trend, but it’s certainly better than waiting for the tooth fairy to fix things up for them. Because, seriously, that is just not going to happen. For the record, I am not a fan of the tooth fairy. That conniving chimerical woman owes me $1.25 in lost baby teeth. And that doesn’t include fifteen years in compound interest (hey, I was a business major in college, I know all about the powers of compound interest, and I keep track). I’ll probably have to check with my accountant to see where we are on that total these days.

If there’s one thing that’ll cure Chicago’s offensive woes, it’s playing the Detroit Lions. Hey it worked for Donovan McNabb and the Philadelphia Eagles. McNabb threw for 381 yards and four touchdowns this past Sunday against the Lions. This is after having only one touchdown and one interception the past two games combined. It could be that Philadelphia is just starting to play up to their level or it could be that the Lions signed an entire high school girls cheerleading squad to play defense for them. I’m not entirely sure of that just yet. Or, who knows, it could even be their throwback uniforms granting the Eagles' recent success. You know what I'm talking about, those colorful things they were wearing on Sunday.

Ok, I need to get this off my chest. What the hell? I mean seriously, what the hell? Yes, those throwbacks were bright, and yes they were different. Kudos for that. But what acid tripping hippy in the Philadelphia Eagles organization thought that those uniforms were a good idea? (And I mean no offense to any acid tripping hippies out there, you shouldn’t be blamed for the Eagles psychedelic schemed regalia.) It reminds me, not so fondly, of the NHL’s Vancouver Canucks hockey stick jerseys from last year.

Let me give my advice now to general managers, owners, and anyone else making dressing decisions for their respective teams throughout the pantheon of sports (and I hope for this is a bit of advice that someone is actually listening to). Think before you act. No seriously, you really need to use that brain of yours for some significant intellectualism here. Before you make a decision to blow a bunch of money on new uniforms (and piss off half your fan base, and make a fool out of your team on national televisions) just ask yourself these simple questions:

1. Have I ingested any mind-altering, psychotropic drugs in the past 24 hours?

2. Did I take more than three shots of tequila during lunch?

3. Am I currently going through a rough breakup/divorce or am I suffering from a midlife crisis?

4. Do I drive a Mazda Miata?

5. Would I prefer to date a girl with a great personality over a much more attractive girl with huge cans?

6. Am I a New York Yankees fan even though I’ve never even been to the city of New York?

If you’ve answered yes to any of those questions, then chances are that you are currently incapable of making a rational, informed decision. And by all rights, at that point, you need to quit making any decisions whatsoever. Period. Instead, just walk into the nearest bar, hold up an example of the new uniforms, and ask the patrons if they think it’s ok for their local team to sport the fresh look. If you escape from the bar without being drenched in cheap beer and whiskey, then that’s a clear “go ahead” for the new jerseys. If you end up in a hospital with a severe concussion and several broken bones, you might want to rethink your latest apparel strategy.

I want the record to state, that even if a sports manager (or anyone else for that matter) ends up in the hospital or suffers any undue injuries while adhering to my advice, I’m not responsible. It is totally, completely, and irrevocably not my fault if you wish to bring back a crappy throw-back or build a new, horrendous, repulsive color scheme and/or logo. Also, managers across the sports spectrum need to be held accountable for their poor decisions when it comes to team apparel. Big time managers at professional clubhouses get paid millions of dollars, certainly they should have the wherewithal to know what doesn’t look good on their players. And if not, pay a fashion expert. I’m pretty sure you can afford it.

And I want one more thing on the record: If you drive a Mazda Miata, and you are not currently a 16 year old high school female (preferably with blonde hair), then I am not responsible for any decisions you make. It’s clear that are not mentally fit to make your own choices. And I mean no offense to Mazda or it's parent corporations.

And now I’m left with just one lingering thought. What are the chances that Green Bay will trade Brett Favre to the Chicago Bears for the rest of the season? I mean, it will give Chicago a standout quarterback, and Brett has a legitimate shot at another Super Bowl ring. It’s win-win as far as I can tell. Hey, if the chances are anywhere above 0.00%, then you can count me as one excited and insanely hopeful fanboy just eagerly waiting for February 3.



P.S. Rex Grossman is still my hero.

My Wii is Totally Bigger Than Yours

Well, I haven’t talked about video games in a while, so I think it’s time I did. Mainly I want to talk about my Wii. Hey, I’m a guy, I’m obsessed with my Wii. That’s just how it is. And I’m going to brag about it as much as possible, because I have one and many of you out there don’t. So Nyah!

My renewed interest in gaming has been brought on partially by my friend Anthony who is staying with me until the end of the week. We’ve been battling back and forth on some Wii Sports, and I’ve narrowly missed being hit in the head on multiple occasions. As it turns out, Anthony really gets into his tennis. On a whim, I ran out yesterday and bought Madden 2007 (that’s NFL Football for those of you living in caves out there). The new version of Madden comes out on August 14th, so the price of the old game has dropped considerably. And in this age of $600 priced consoles, I need every single dollar I can save. For the record, for six hundred friggin dollars, that Sony console better damn well transform into Blaster or at least Soundwave.

If you haven’t played Madden on the Wii, then you haven’t played Madden football before. I mean, wow. The controls aren’t perfect, and it takes a little getting used to, but the game is sheer awesomeness. You know, if awesomeness was tangible and you could turn it into a compact disc and shove it into my Nintendo, then yeah, that’d be Madden. I can only expect that the next installment is going to be even better. My only real reason for picking up an updated copy of the game in two months would be to get Devin Hester’s upgraded performance. Oh yeah, Chicago is going to be the best team in the game just because you’ll be able to run back every kick off with them.

I’m not sure if I have to say this, but I spent the better part of the day yesterday playing simulated football. It was fun, it was a fresh new way to play Madden, and it was tiring. In fact, my arms are still a bit sore from attempting to get Rex Grossman to rifle the ball to his receivers. A “laser-rocket” arm, he has not. Well, ok, maybe I only passed to Muhsin Muhammad, but in my defense, Chicago really isn’t much of a well rounded passing team.

The moral of this story? My arm hurts. And to top it off, I have a hockey game tonight. If we lose our hockey game, well, it’s just going to be EA’s fault. And I have absolutely no qualms about blaming my lack of ability on a video game designer. Pride is not something I worry about too often. On the plus side, my Wii-antics are actually a great form of exercise. According to a U.K. study, playing 12 hours of Wii Sports a week will burn off an estimated 1,800 calories. That could translate into a weight loss of 12 kilograms (or 26.4 pounds for those of you not entirely comfortable with alien metrics) over a prolonged period of time.

This shouldn’t be anything new. I mean, playing with my Wii has always burned off a few extra calories at the end of the day. And I’ve always found that playing with my Wii is a great way to jump start my morning and get me energized. Now I have scientific proof (and yes, one study conducted across the Atlantic does qualify as infallible proof) that playing with my Wii is good for my body. I just think I should point out that girls can get a fantastic work out as well by coming over and playing with my Wii. Every girl who has gotten her hands on my Wii so far has enjoyed it immensely. I’m just putting that out there.

Well, if we’re done with the double entendres (and I’m not entirely sure that I am just yet), we can move on to more important matters: football. I hadn’t realized how much I missed the sport until I eviscerated a guy with Brian Urlacher yesterday. Seriously, that was awesome. I can’t wait to see him do that in real life. And I only have to wait until the season starts on Sunday, September 9th. That’s not too far off now, is it?

No seriously, football season needs to hurry up. If for no other reason then it will give the guys on Sports Center something to talk about. The NBA finals and NHL finals are both over, and were both skipped over by the mass of the populace. Although I’m sure the three people watching game five of the Stanley Cup enjoyed it immeasurably. And let’s be honest with ourselves here, you can only say so much about baseball.

And so the countdown begins. The NFL draft is over, along with free-agency for the off-season, so now it’s time to size up all of the teams and pick out our favorites to win. Or it would be if that made any sense. Yes, sure the Patriots had great off-season acquisitions, and sure the Chargers may have problems without a coaching staff (I think one of the janitors got promoted to offensive coordinator) and for sure the Bears will make the playoffs again if only for the sole reason that their division sucks (and I mean no offense to Brett Farve, but aside from Chicago’s defense, the NFC north doesn’t have much to be lauded these days). But I was thinking, and really, this is just a crazy idea, that maybe we should wait until the actual season starts before we go all crazy with our football-talk. I mean, after the first two weeks, all of the guys on ESPN will be switching their picks for conference winners anyway. So do you think you can spare me from some of the needless confabulation now? Maybe…? No? No, I didn’t think so. Guess I’ll just have to watch cartoons instead of ESPN until the season starts. Darn.

And just for the record, I don’t care if Rex Grossman isn’t a Peyton Manning, or a Tom Brady, or a Donovan McNabb, or even a Jeff Garcia, or that third string guy who plays for the 49ers (he may have completed a pass once or twice in his life, I think)… I really don’t care about any of that, Rex is still my hero.

Don’t forget, only two more weeks until the new Transformers movie (for better or worse). As I have been compulsorily required to do by my love of all things Transformers, here is this week’s quote:

“Me Grimlock no bozo. Me king!”
-Grimlock

I Wanna Be Like Mike

Anyone see the basketball game last night? San Antonio beat Cleveland 75 to 72 in game three of the NBA Championships in what was the second lowest scoring game in finals history. If you missed it, I don’t blame you. I’m not much for watching the NBA myself, but I do try to catch some playoff games when I get the chance. Occasionally they can be entertaining.

Unfortunately I can’t say that for last night. With only a combined 147 total points, it was the slowest game in history for the finals, save for one other game. And that game was in 1955 when Fort Wayne beat Syracuse 74 to 71. If you know the mascots for these two teams, then you’re truly a better man than I. Heck, my dad wasn’t even born back in 1955.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that last night’s game was boring, incredibly so. Well, if you tuned in for the final say, three minutes, then you saw an exciting, down to the wire, game. But otherwise the game was merely a showcase for bad shooting, balls bouncing out of the rim, and refs forgetting how to call fouls against the Spurs (then again, that’s nothing new, just ask Steve Nash). But hey, the Spurs now have a 3-0 stranglehold on the Finals against the Cavaliers, so I’m happy.

Now don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against LeBron James. I mean, he’s younger than me, insanely famous, and Nike gave him $90 million before he played even on single NBA game. But hey, I’m not jealous or anything. Nope, not one bit… But I do have a problem with King James, and it is not in any way his fault. It’s all these stupid announcers and sports writers. For some reason, they keep saying he’s the next Michael Jordan.

Everybody is always looking for the next Michael Jordan, the next “big thing.” At one time they thought it might be Kobe Bryant or even Dwyane Wade. But now, it’s all about LeBron. If I do one thing in my life, I’m going to set the record straight. There is only one Michael Jordan. And he was born in Brooklyn, NY, went to high school in Wilmington, NC, attended the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, scored the game winning shot in the 1982 NCAA Finals and went on to win six, count ‘em, six NBA Championships with the Chicago Bulls. No one else even compares.

Now I might be a bit biased in this view. I was born in Illinois and therefore I have an affinity for Chicago based teams. I might also be biased because I’m an alumnus of Chapel Hill and the name Jordan is still 24 karat gold in that town. Or it might just be that I’m tired of hearing the same old tripe shit from TV announcers and I’m ready to move on already. Michael Jordan is the only Michael Jordan there ever will be. Kobe is Kobe, Wade is Wade, and LeBron, well, he’s only 21 years old. I think we can wait a few more years to find out who he truly is.

I could list all of Jordan’s accomplishments all of his various MVP honors, All Star game appearances, Olympic Gold Medals, and so on and so forth, but honestly, there’s just not enough room to write it all down. For the record though, it should be known that out of 1,109 games as a Chicago Bull, Jordan scored double digits in all but one game (March 25th, 1986 vs. the Cleveland Cavaliers). But there is one thing that Michael Jordan has, that Kobe Bryant and LeBron James will never have, and that’s a degree from the University of North Carolina.

Oh sure, MJ left college early for the NBA draft in 1984, and was even encouraged to do so by Dean Smith. He did go back in 1986, however, and finish out his degree in cultural geography. Now, I’m not entirely sure what cultural geography is or how it is applied in day to day life, but hey, he’s Michael Jordan. I’m pretty sure the University would have made up a degree just for him.

The number one thing that sets Michael apart from every other basketball player from the past, present, and future is his international stardom. Sure there are other superstars with multimillion dollar Nike contracts and their own brands and logos. But I’m talking about what Michael did not just for himself, his teammates, or the city of Chicago. I’m talking about the impact he had on the entire league. The National Basketball Association has never been more popular than when Michael was on the court. It was obviously less popular before and is still less watched after his final retirement. Even during his “baseball years” the NBA lost some of its fan base.

As long as he was on the court, wearing the now iconic #23 jersey the NBA flourished. But now, even with the LeBron James’s, the Kobe Bryant’s, and the Vince Carter’s the NBA just isn’t as popular as it once was. As I said before, there really is only one Michael Jordan. And that’s the way it’s always going to be.

And on a completely different note, due to my total fanboy love affair for the Transformers franchise, I now leave you with this week’s Transformers quote. Just remember, the new Transformers move comes out in three weeks.

“And the answer is: Unicron… Yes friends, act now, destroy Unicron. Kill the Grand Poobah. Eliminate even the toughest stain.”
-Wreck-Gar

Summertime Sports Spectacular

Summer is almost upon us and that means we are nearing the golden months of televised professional sporting events. And no, I’m not talking about the NBA playoffs or the race for the Stanley Cup (NHL playoffs for those of you who aren’t Canadian). No, once those two pesky distractions are played out and off the air we can finally settle down for what the summer was meant for. If you’re thinking baseball, guess again. Baseball is about as exciting as watching gay-hermaphrodite-farm porn. Actually… I take that back, that’s far too offensive to gay people.

No, the summer season is all about those lesser known sports, the ones you rarely hear on Sports Center and seldom see in the paper. This is the time for bowling, spelling bees, and hot dog eating contests. If you aren’t sitting on the edge of your seat, thrilled to death to learn more, then there’s seriously something wrong with you. Seriously.

First up in our Summer Seldom Heard Sports tour is the Scripps National Spelling Bee. Held every year in Washington DC, the National Spelling Bee pits eighth graders (and younger) against each other to see who can spell the most haphazard words that you’ll never use in the English language. Now honestly, who wouldn’t find that exciting?

ESPN will air the semi-finals live from 10am to 1pm on May 31st. Later that same day, ABC will be airing the finals live between 8 and 10 pm. That’s a prime time spot for the Scripps National Spelling Bee. Pretty spiffy, if you ask me. Personally, I can’t wait to see all the little kids on stage, nervous as hell because their parents are pushing them too hard to win a spelling bee. It’s a friggin spelling bee. Yeah, no worries about going to a good school or getting a high class job, but by hell or high-water, you’re winning that spelling bee! And if you’ve ever watched the Scripps before, you can easily tell that the parents have a larger interest in winning than their kids do. I’m sure the kids would all rather be playing Nintendo. (Quick, can you spell Shigeru Miyamoto? And no cheating with Google!)

But it’s all well worth it for the winner. The championship prize is a $20,000 award from Scripps, $5000 from Franklin Electronic Publishers, $5000 from LeapFrog Enterprises Inc., $5000 in scholarships from Sigma Phi Epsilon Educational Foundation, a $2500 US Savings Bond and reference library from Merriam-Webster, and some reference materials from Encyclopedia Britannica worth somewhere in the neighborhood of $5000. So for our Grand Champion Speller, we get somewhere around $42,500 of total prizes. Not too shabby, even though it’s not exactly Peyton Manning money, but it’ll pay the bills. More pointedly, it’ll pay for the parents’ bills.

By rule, contestants may not be past the eighth grade nor may they be any older than sixteen years to compete in the Scripps National Spelling Bee. That means that legally, the money goes to the winner, who must be a minor, and the parents take over the money as custodians. As I said before, you can tell that the parents are the ones really pushing their kids to succeed. And something tells me that those parents aren’t going to use the massive winnings to buy their kid a brand new Playstation 3. I’m not exactly sure, but I think $40k may just be enough money to buy one of those outrageously priced Sony contraptions. Though buying the actual games and extra controllers for multiplayer is probably out of the question. So, can anyone out there please tell me why the new Playstations aren’t selling like hotcakes right now?

If parentally whipped pre-adolescents aren’t your thing, then you might want to tune into the Nathan’s Famous International Hot Dog Eating Contest held annually on July 4th (and televised on ESPN). This magnificent even has the world’s greatest “gurgitators” competing to eat as many hot dogs (including the buns) as possible in a twelve minute period. Reigning world champion and near demi-god Takeru Kobayashi has won the event that past six years running. Last year, however, he had some competition from American Joey Chestnut who wolfed down 1.75 fewer hot dogs than the Japanese title holder.

Now I’m really upset. It turns out that the registration for the June 9th circuit event for Nathan’s Famous Hot Dog Eating Contest held in Charlotte (only 3 hours away by station wagon) is already closed. I can no longer enter the event. And this makes me sad. I really thought that I could pull off an upset of some sort in Charlotte and pave my way to the International Competition at Coney Island. But alas, it was not meant to be. Not this year at least. Never mind the fact that at best, I could down maybe… maybe five or six hot dogs before rolling over and going to sleep. I guess it’s just not my time to dominate the world of competitive eating just yet.

The IFOCE, The International Federation of Competitive Eating, sanctions many competitive eating events from hot dogs, to cow brains (yum!), to baked beans. Winners of any of these many and varied events can take home upwards of $25,000 (and if you must know, the $25 grand award is for the cow brain competition: winning never tasted so unsettling). The IFOCE warns that fans of the sport should not try competitive eating at home, that it should only be done under very controlled circumstances and with emergency medical attention nearby. They also don’t endorse training for competitive eating of any type. Ha, and you thought football was a dangerous sport.

I think it’s time that these lesser known sports got the attention they deserve. Sure we may not have an Obscure Sports Quarterly magazine or an ESPN 8, “the Ocho” to keep us informed on the competitive worlds of eating and spelling, but the current TV avenues should be more than sufficient. Qualifying rounds for the sports could easily be shown on the ESPN family of networks which currently include: ESPN, ESPN2 (“the Deuce”), ESPN-U, ESPNEWS, ESPN-Classic, ESPN-SOCOM, and the much more recent ESPN-DVD-PVP-LSD-LMNOP-CV. I’m beginning to think the fine folks over at ESPN like needless acronyms as much as the US military. And that’s saying something.

So the next time you find yourself disgusted at watching overpaid “athletes” running around on TV and not putting in the professional level effort that Gordie Howe or Jackie Robinson or Bart Star put in, then please flip over to the more minor sports. I think you’ll find that they more than merit your attention. Hey, what else are you going to do this summer, watch golf? Oh, and for those of you who spelled Shigeru Miyamoto’s name correctly (answer: S-H-I-G-E-R-U, M-I-Y-A-M-O-T-O) then congratulations, you can read! You might want to send an apple to your elementary school teacher in thanks.

Apparently I’m a Wuss

Why does my stomach hurt? It feels as if my abdominal muscles are clenched tightly in fear of some fantastical monster whose sole purpose is to rend the flesh of my midsection. You’ve probably had the same sort of sensation after completing 327 sit-ups in a row. So this feeling isn’t uniquely foreign. The problem is that I haven’t even come close to doing one sit-up let alone the extremely large prerequisite that normal people need to feel the burn on their muscles. Heck, I haven’t even done anything that is remotely similar to an abdominal workout. So why am I in pain?

Well, I did participate in a hockey tournament this past weekend. I played three games in two days, which is a lot of hockey in a 36 hour period. But I’m pretty sure ice skating uses your leg muscles, not the ones in my stomach. I could be wrong about that though. I know it’s hard to believe, but I have been wrong before, even though it was just that one time.

I’m beginning to think that maybe this is some sort of just punishment. To be honest, I deserve some kind of punishment. Let me explain: it was our second game of the weekend and regulation time had expired with our team in a dead 3-3 lock with our opponents. There was no overtime, just a three v. three shootout. And I was the lucky man chosen to shoot first. So there I was, puck in the center of the ice, staring down the goalie in his net. And, well, I can sum up my one on one attempt at the goalie with one word: vagina.

Say it with me now, “VAH-GINE-AH.” Needless to say, I mucked up real bad. Then a few minutes later, we lost, 1-0 in the shootout. Had I put my one shot in (which in all honesty, I should have been able to do) we very well may have won. And, that one loss (our only loss of the weekend) kept us out of the championship game. So yeah, I suck, and I deserve to be punished.

This appears to be a reoccurring theme for me. For the season I am two for twelve on breakaways. Seriously, the easiest way to score a goal is on a breakaway and I’m, for all intents and purposes, incapable of doing so. I have come to the conclusion that there is something wrong with me. I mean, any idiot can score on a breakaway. And let’s be honest here, I’m a perfectly acceptable idiot. Apparently I’m more of a failure at being an idiot than most people are.

As you might already be able to tell, I don’t think I’m going to be joining the NHL any time soon. This is unfortunate since I had planned on spending the rest of my career playing professional hockey. Now that it seems I won’t be capable enough to go down this road, I’m going to have to come up with a back-up plan. Well, my back up plan was to win the lottery and that hasn’t happened yet either. So I need a back-up for the back-up plan.

I may have everything under control. Bowling. That’s right, I said bowling. People actually get paid to be professional bowlers. So I figure, why not me? It has to be the least demanding professional sport there is. I mean, golfers have to at least walk from hole to hole in the PGA. In the Professional Bowlers Association there’s no running, or lifting weights, or even specialty drills needed. All you have to do is throw a ball down a lane. Sounds simple enough.

Now I may not be the world’s best bowler, far from it actually, but I think this is one sport where I can persevere through the training. I mean, it’s the only sport I know of where you can drink beer and eat corn dogs while playing in a tournament. And honestly, I have to respect a sport like that. Bowling is the only activity I know of that actually encourages you to drink while you play. By now I really do hope you know how much I enjoy drinking a good beer.

There is one downside to the PBA though. It may be great for the sedentary lifestyle, but the money isn’t all that fantastic. Sure if you win two or three major events a year (which is very highly unlikely) you can pull down $200,000. But as I said, that’s not an easy task to accomplish. If you remember, the whole point of me becoming a professional bowler was to make easy cash and have a laid back lifestyle. In the end, bowling may just not have the capital I need to be a rich lazy bum. So then, what other options are available?

The perfect solution: I could become a punter in the NFL. Now I know punters don’t make near as much money as a real football player like a quarterback or running back or even an offensive lineman. That’s ok; I don’t think I need to make a million dollars every year. However, I do need to make at least $100,000 each year. And a punter easily makes that much.

Oh sure, place kickers make more money than punters do. I mean, just look at Adam Vinatieri and his near $3 million a year contract. It must be nice to be him. But then again, he’s the guy who always comes through in the clutch. Place kickers sit on the bench all game long and then are forced to come out at the end of the game and take one kick that will either win the game or lose it. That’s a lot of pressure. And to be honest, that sort of pressure is something I don’t need. Vinatieri can have it.

On the other hand, punters have no pressure. They don’t score any points and are never counted on to win games, ever. All they do is go out on the field, kick the ball (between 30 to 40 yards), and then return to the bench. Heck, they’re not even expected to make a tackle when they’re on the field. And why not? Punters are all skinny little white guys, how can you expect them to tackle a punt return specialist? Well, Devin Hester may only be 5’11” and 189lbs. but something tells me he’s not going to get tackled by a punter.

Punters don’t have to run or hit the weight room as much as the rest of the football team. They’re not even considered real football players. You know what, that’s perfectly fine with me. I’m not in it for the glory, I’m in it for the roughly $200,000 NFL minimum salary. Yes, even punters get paid big money in the National Football League. And in all honesty, punters do jack squat.

So that’s my ambition, to do jack squat and get paid ridiculously well for it. So far I’ve got the first part down. The second part is the laboriously tricky. Hopefully I’ll figure that out eventually. Oh, and in the mean time, if you know of any NFL teams that are looking for a new punter, I’m more than up to the task.

It’s Madness and It’s Not Fair

Well, the month of March has come and gone. Normally an overlooked month, the third full turn of the moon is ripe with plenty of reasons to get excited. St. Patrick’s Day and Steak and Blow-job Day are just two of the many reasons to love the month. But there is one event that engulfs men’s lives and turns them into crazed school children for far longer than their wives would appreciate. They call it the March Madness; the NCAA Basketball Tournament.

Sixty-five teams in four regions competed to get to Atlanta this year for the revered Final Four. For some, its more than a game, it’s almost a religion. This is especially true here in North Carolina, the college basketball capital of the world (hey if I say it’s the college b-ball capital, then it must be true). Not that any ACC teams actually made it to the Final Four this year. Which is honestly is a huge disappointment. Boasting more teams than any other conference in the nation at the big Dance, at a regal seven, the Atlantic Coast Conference was only able to get one team into the Sweet Sixteen.

First of all, what the hell? As good as the ACC is, how is it that only one team can win more than a single game in the Tournament? Duke, Virginia, Boston College, Maryland and Virginia Tech had good records coming into the postseason, but for some reason they all decided to suck it up at the one point of the year when winning actually means something. Oh, and while I have your attention, repeat after me: VER-GIN-YA Tech. That’s right, you’re supposed to say the whole thing (well, the whole name of the state at least). It’s not Vah Tech or V-Tech, it’s Virginia Tech. If you’re one of those douche bags who says Vah Tech, then you’re a loser and a dork… and a douche. And yes, I really did need to put the word “douche” in there twice. I’m just that emphatic about it.

Highlight of this year’s Tournament: watching Duke get knocked out in the first round by Virginia Commonwealth University. As an added bonus, I actually picked VCU to win that game. I’m so glad they didn’t disappoint. There are very few things in the world that delight me more than watching Duke lose. If I had to pick, would I rather have sex with a super model or watch UNC beat Duke in person at the Dean Smith Center? Well, you know, I’ve always said super models are overrated. And besides, this is basketball we’re talking about. Hey, there’s a reason Carolina’s Alma Mater includes shouting the words “GO TO HELL DUKE.”

For the record, I’m an alumnus of the University of North Carolina. I had the good fortune of spending my senior year watching the likes of Sean May, Rashad McCants, Raymond Felton, Jackie Manuel, and Jawad Williams win the National Championship. There are three things I can actually remember from my senior year in college, beating Illinois in the NCAA Final, my graduation ceremony, and beer, lot’s and lot’s of beer. There may have been some whiskey involved in there too somewhere. Honestly, I can’t remember. It’s all pretty hazy.

This year, however, UNC made it all the way to the top eight teams in the country before losing to Georgetown in overtime. Honestly, I wasn’t all that upset. I probably should have been, but I didn’t really expect our team to bring home the championship this year. I’ve been of the mind all year long that next season is when the boys in blue will win it all. Give those young kids another year to mature and they’re going to be phenomenal. Seriously, I’m going to be extremely upset with anything less than a National Championship next year.

Hopefully those talented youngsters won’t make a break for the NBA after only one year of college. I can’t understand why they’d want to do it. I mean, wouldn’t you prefer to stay in school and work on your game instead of going pro? Really, why would anyone jump into the professional league merely for a multi-million dollar contract? There are more important things in life than money. …wait, did I really just say that? I take that back, there is nothing more important than money. Money can buy you everything, including happiness. Or at the very least a happy ending.

I’m going to quit undercutting my own argument here and move on to something much more important. And that’s Florida and Ohio State. These schools met twice this year in National Championship games, once for football and once again for basketball. I would like to take the time right here to tell you just how incredibly unfair that is. Those schools are traditional football schools, and that’s all well and good. But you’re not allowed to be that good in basketball as well. It has to be one or the other, not both.

Now the reason I say it’s unfair is because my school, being a basketball school as you all well know, only managed to win three games this school year on the football field. So I think we can all agree that Florida cannot be number one in both sports. We can also agree that Ohio State cannot be number two in both as well. Actually, that’s kind of demeaning when you think about it. I mean, it is a real tour de force to be that good at both major college sports, but who really wants second place? Congratulations Ohio State, you’re the first loser in both football and basketball. No longer will you be known as the Buckeyes. Today I dub you, the Runner Ups. Your mascot can be Dan Marino, the NFL quarterback who broke almost every offensive passing record but never even made it to the Super Bowl. Yes you’re good, but at the end of the day, no one really cares.

Ok, aside from making fun of Ohio State (and I actually like the Buckeyes, seriously), there are far more pressing matters I must attend to. Namely, how am I going to stop Florida from their NCAA sports domination? And let’s not kid ourselves here, the University of Florida does have a stranglehold on collegiate sports. No one has ever won both championships in a single year, until this past Monday. So apparently, it’s up to me to break that hold. I mean, who else is going to stop them? Ohio State?

I have a plan, but it involves dark voodoo magics so sinister and twisted that most men would have their souls bleed out their eyes just from the mere mention of it. Not that I mind getting into such horrible atrocities, I’m very familiar with dark dealings of the soul. The downside is, and there’s always a downside, I’m going to need some help finding all the necessary ingredients. I have the need to sacrifice a goat, two llamas, a pig fetus, four chickens, and a Republican. It’s going to be hard to get a hold of all that. Have you seen the price on sacrificial llamas lately?

Hopefully, by this time next year I will have single handedly taken down the Florida Gators from their lofty perch. Though I can’t be certain. The gods of sport are often fickle creatures and are known to ignore the pleas and sacrifices of even the most stalwart fans. Truth be told, I’ll probably end up drinking too much beer, and in my oft alcohol induced haze forget all about my dark offerings, and end up throwing the llama meat on the grill. I hear it tastes good with barbeque sauce. And in the end, isn’t beer and barbeque what college sports is all about?

Maybe Life is Like a Ride on a Freeway

I’m driving down the interstate, rain is pouring down all around my car, the traffic has slowed to a 55 mph crawl (hey, for the interstate, that’s slow). I just finished playing Black Hole Sun by Soundgarden (which seemed appropriate at the time) and now I was listening to the final seconds of regulation for the UNC vs. Virginia Tech basketball game. Things were starting to get just a bit stressful.

Maybe I should explain better. After watching the Carolina Hurricanes win over the Los Angeles Kings, I had to drive back to my place in Chapel Hill. I was already hyped up from a very physical and close scoring hockey game, so my nerves were a bit on edge. The rain was pouring all around me making it very difficult to drive. I wanted to turn on my rear windshield wiper to clear up the view in my rear view mirror (yes, I drive a station wagon, feel free to laugh at my expense), but then I remembered that the back windshield wiper no longer works. It’s a safety feature. See, the button for the back windshield wiper is hard to locate on the dashboard so I would have to take my eyes off the road for a few seconds to find it. And taking your eyes off the road is just plain unsafe. I should thank my car’s manufacturer for designing my car to meet such rigorous safety standards.

The stress continues to pile up. The road conditions, listening to the boys in baby blue not quite finishing off the game the way they should, the two and a half beers I consumed during the hockey game… it all adds up. I should let it be known that being stressed out is a bad way to drive. Luckily for me, I’m a safe driver. I made it home in one piece and without incident. Unluckily for me, the UNC game went into overtime.

And, as you already should know, UNC lost it in overtime and were swept in both games this year by Virginia Tech. The boys in blue let me down. So that’s why I’m right here, on a Tuesday night, sitting in front of my computer, drinking beer and attempting to write in semi-proper English, which is not an altogether easy task, let me assure you. Ah, beer, you’re my one and only true friend.

Well, that isn’t entirely true. See, I didn’t exactly buy my tickets for tonight’s hockey game. A friend of mine was kind enough to give me a spare she had. It was pretty much a last minute thing, and it is nights like tonight that make me proud to have a near non-existent social life. Hey, if I wasn’t going to the hockey game in person, I would be watching the game on TV anyway. Luckily for me, Andrea was nice enough to take me to the game so I could watch it in person.

Being the nice guy that I am, and we all know how nice I am to women, I took Andrea out to dinner before the game. Hey, if she’s cool enough to take me to a hockey game, I can treat her to dinner. Let me recap for a second just for your benefit: I had dinner with an attractive girl and then she took me to a hockey game. This, my friends, is what we call a win-win situation. Well, not quite as good as winning the lottery then being named the sole heir to Hugh Hefner’s estate, but still, it’s pretty damn good. And Hugh, if you’re reading this, I still expect you to leave me the Playboy Mansion in your will.

So, that was my Tuesday. It was pretty eventful, all things considering. And today, Valentine’s Day, probably won’t be nearly has eventful. I won’t be having dinner with any beautiful women tonight, nor will I be watching any collegiate or professional sporting events. I usually boycott Valentine’s Day because well, as far as I’m concerned Valentine’s Day was invented by the De Beers family. You know the De Beers, they’re the people who basically have cornered the international diamond market. They’re the reason why you have to spend three month’s salary on a shiny, semi-ounce rock that otherwise has no rational value.

If you don’t believe my conspiracy theory about this love-sick holiday, then simply turn on your TV. If you don’t see at least two commercials for jewelry during every commercial break, then I’ll give you 100 carats worth of quarters (which is probably just one quarter… possibly two). But you know what, you really should go out and buy your loved one lots of presents. If you don’t spend a crap-ton of money on your favorite female, then it shows that you don’t love her (1 crap-ton = 100 short tons). Love is indubitably tied to gross materialism.

Don’t let the circuitous media fool you, love isn’t some all-prevailing romantic force. Simply put, love is money. Although, as a quick disclaimer, I feel the need to inform you that I was the guy who spent his entire college career trying to marry into money. Let me tell you, marrying a wealthy chick is a lot harder way to get rich quick than I thought. Seriously.

As far as I’m concerned though, love is money. In fact, I love money. Every night when I go to bed, I curl up with a 100 dollar bill and caress it as I fall asleep. It is my one, my only, my everything. Now if it would just hurry up produce a couple hundred more bills just like it, I’d be one happy and content man. The man who coined the term “money can’t buy happiness” most assuredly was poor. I know that I would be happy if I had one million dollars… actually, ten million, I’d be happy with ten million dollars. Well, you know what, we’d better make that an even 100 million dollars, just to be on the safe side. If I had 100 million dollars, I’d be one of the happiest men alive.

But unfortunately, I don’t have quite that much money right now. I don’t even have the Playboy Mansion either. Apparently, I don’t have much. What I do have is another three beers in the fridge that aren’t going to drink themselves. Hey, the Tar Heels lost today, I’m entitled to my booze. But hey, life could be a lot worse. I could be a Duke fan. What are they ranked again? Oh, that’s right, they’re not ranked. Sucks to be a Duke fan.

I’m Wasting My Time Again

It was not a good weekend. I’m not ashamed to admit (although maybe I should be) that I cried myself to sleep on both Saturday and Sunday night. And believe me, it was not a pretty sight. Over the course of those two days UNC basketball, the Carolina Hurricanes, and the Chicago Bears all lost. It was a sad, sad time.

And if you must know, I flexed my baking prowess once again this weekend. I made some White Chocolate Chip Macadamia Nut Cookies and some Spinach and Artichoke Dip. My friends that I watched the UNC basketball game with promptly made fun of me. That didn’t stop them from eating the cookies though. Apparently, they were delicious, which shouldn’t be surprised since I just plain don’t make crappy baked goods. But to add insult to, well, insult, the girls present also made fun of me for being capable in the kitchen. And they promised to buy me a nice pink and frilly apron. Luckily for me, I don’t wear the damned things. Aprons are for nancy-boys.

So yes, it was a bad weekend all round. But that can all be changed tonight. Tonight is the Raleigh Llamas sixth game of the season. For those of you who don’t know, the Raleigh Llamas is the beginners’ league team in the Raleigh Adult Hockey League which I happen have the pleasure of playing for. We currently boast a 1 - 4 record and lead the league in the fewest penalty minutes served. Hey, at least we lead the league in something.

Why the Raleigh Llamas? Well, because it vaguely sounds like the Dalai Lama. You know the guy, the spiritual and political leader of the Tibetan people. He personifies compassion, wisdom, and faithfulness. And this is exactly what our team is not. Last season our team captain was ejected from our final game (with only five seconds remaining on the clock) for arguing with a referee. If I learned one thing playing sports, it’s that you can never win an argument with a ref, especially when they don’t mind giving you a 10 minute game misconduct with only five seconds remaining in the entire season.

Tonight is a big game because we are playing the only team in the league that is ranked beneath us. This is a must win game. If we win, we move up into sixth place (out of eight teams). If we lose, we drop to eighth place. I can’t speak for the rest of my team, but I don’t exactly aspire to be last place team in the bottom beginners’ league. That’s just one of those things that makes me want to cry myself to sleep. And honestly, I’ve done more than enough of that lately.

I’m also excited for tonight since we will be getting our new uniforms. We’ve been wearing our old standard royal blue “Wings” uniforms for the beginning part of the season (we just recently changed our names to the Raleigh Llamas). It only took nearly three months to get our jerseys in. I mean, I can order a Carolina Hurricanes jersey online and have it here within two days. Waiting half a season for new team jerseys seems perfectly reasonable. Well, perfectly reasonable by 19th century standards anyway. Well if you want to take a look at the coolest damn hockey jerseys ever, just click on the Raleigh Llamas link over there in the links section.

So you all know I’m obsessed with hockey (well, I’m obsessed with sports in general, but I actually play hockey, so yeah, I’m even more obsessed with that), but there are plenty of other things I do in a given day that don’t revolve around the sports world. In fact, I have so much to do, it’s a wonder I ever get anything done in one particular day. I’d like to think of myself as an expert when it comes to time management. Or more accurately, time-waste management.

If there is one thing I’m good at, it’s finding applicable ways to waste time. It’s kind of a super power I have. Well, no, I wouldn’t say it’s a super power. Pissing off women is my true super power; wasting time is just a slightly more than mild-mannered hobby. But it’s a hobby I take very seriously. Take today for instance: I went out of my way to drop by EB Games so I could pick up a copy of Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney. It’s a courtroom drama type game for the Nintendo DS that I have heard very good things about. But seeing as how I have a backlog of games I have yet to finish, there was pretty much no reason to pick this game up.

So why’d I go out of my way to buy it? Well, I haven’t bought a video game for myself since before Christmas. It’s been almost two months now, and that’s a long time for a video game junkie to go without buying something. What can I say, I need my fix. Luckily I do have a fragment of self restraint. The game has remained unopened, lying on my coffee table for most of the afternoon. Let me assure you, if I had opened the game, I would never have found the time to write this article. As far as I’m concerned, that means I’ve been productive today.

Besides video games, there are plenty of other useful wastes of time for you to engage in. Watching TV, shopping, or even listening to music are all the usual mundane time killers. But that’s old school. This is the 21st century. We have all new ways to take up your meaningless time. The internet itself is a huge tool designed just for this purpose. You can get online and chat away with friends over your favorite instant messaging software, or you can read some of the many web-published comics or you can even read some blogs. If you’re really inclined, you could read the entire backlog of my own blogs. But really, if you have that much free time on your hands, you’d be better off doing something more exciting. Like getting your nails done.

Of course, you can always get on Myspace. Plenty of people use it as their preferred waste of time from any other online site. I must confess, I too have a Myspace account, although I really can’t understand why, I barely use the thing. If you may recall, I’m not exactly fond of the mass majority of humanity. They have a tendency to annoy me. Just to humor you, let’s just check out what I have waiting for me today on my Myspace account. In the messages folder I have “Meet Horny Myspace Singles” and “Meet Hot Myspace Singles” and “10000 Dollar Scholarships.” Yes, thank you for restoring my faith in humanity Myspace.

Well, I’ve probably wasted enough of your time already. I would prefer to waste more, but really, I have an unopened video game laying on my coffee table and a hockey game at 9pm. I have so much to do that I sometimes think my life is just too stressful. Usually when that happens, I open another bottle of bourbon. Alcohol: the ultimate waste of your time.

Damn It’s Good to Be a Sports Nut

In case you missed it, I’m going to give you a quick run down of the NCAA National Championship game. This recap is brought to you by the fine folks at Stupid Inventions magazine. “If it’s stupid, we can invent it!”

Ohio State versus Florida (Monday, January 8th, 2007)

Ohio State: We’re the best team in the nation! We’ve got Heisman Trophy winner Troy Smith. We beat two number two teams this year, and we’re gonna flat run over you, Florida!

Florida: Urban Meier is an offensive god. Chris Leak and Tim Tebow are going to duel-mode bitch slap you right back to Columbus.

Ohio State: (SLAP) Ouch… that hurt! Don’t do that. Please… please don’t hurt us again. We’ll roll over and play dead now, just please don’t hurt us.

Florida: That’s right bitch. Now go make me a sandwich.


That was pretty much what happened. I have to admit, I was utterly disappointed in the game. And where was Mr. Heisman that night? I thought Troy Smith drank the nectar of the gods and shitted out rainbows. But apparently he plays like a blinded eight year old school girl. Honestly, I expected more out of him.

Don’t get me wrong, I like Troy Smith. He played exceptionally well all year and deserved that Heisman. But no one cares about that if you can’t pull it out in the one game of the year that really matters. Sorry Mr. Heisman, but you really did get slapped around that game. Unfortunately, it was a bad end to an otherwise stellar season.

Now, as good as a performance that Florida put on (and let’s give credit where credit is due), I still have some problems about them being national champions. Sure Florida beat the best team in the nation and finished up 13-1 on the season with a tough SEC schedule. But there’s one team that finished up the season with a better record. Yes, I’m talking about Boise State. You know that team with the royal blue turf field that you see on TV but never really care about. That’s them.

I’m saying it right now, on the record, so please print this out so you have a paper copy: Boise State should be crowned National Champions. They are the only team in Division I-A football that finished the season undefeated. That’s 13 wins with no losses. The Broncos are the one team out of 119 peer teams to get the job done each and every week of the season. Doesn’t that count for something?

Now I know you’re thinking that Boise State had a weak schedule and that their conference isn’t anything near as difficult as anything the six major conferences have to play through. This is true, and I completely agree with you there. Both Florida and Ohio State had to play much tougher schedules than the Broncos. But allow me dissuade you of your conferential prejudices.

Why do I think Boise State should be number one? Well, did you see the Fiesta Bowl? I unfortunately missed it. And it is one of the biggest regrets of my life. Either my life is really sad or that was the greatest game of college football ever played. I’ll let you decide. But you can’t deny the fact that of all the college football played this season, that Boise State pulling it off against Oklahoma in the national spotlight of a major BCS Bowl is a memorable experience for all (unless, of course, you’re from Oklahoma).

Anyone who can pull off the plays and make the calls like Boise State coach Chris Peterson deserves to have a National Championship. Getting that team back into the game with seven seconds left was miraculous. In overtime, needing only a simple extra point to tie the game and send it to double overtime, Peterson choose to go for two points. Make it, and you win the big game and everyone loves you. Miss and you go back home crying with you head between you thighs like a little girl and wondering what could have been. That’s a tough call. Not only did he make this call, but Peterson had the balls of solid stainless steel, the absolute audacity to call a statue of liberty play for the two point conversion. And it worked. I don’t think I’ve ever seen the statue of liberty used before in college football. And the USA Today Coaches Poll didn’t even place the Broncos in the top five nationally. I’m sorry, but I’m invoking my constitutional right to call: bull shit.

There were five BCS bowl games this year. Those are the biggest end of year games in the country. You’d think the winners of those games would wind up as the five best teams in the nation. Let’s just forget about Ohio State’s season, where they beat a number two Texas and beat a number two Michigan. Ohio State lost. They finished 12-1. Boise State is 13-0. I can’t say that enough. The one undefeated team in the league and they can’t even scratch the top five. If that doesn’t convince you that the system is flawed, then I don’t know what will.

As I’ve said before, Boise State is the best team in the nation. So what if they’re in the WAC? Winning 13 games in one season isn’t easy even in for the Western Athletic Conference. And even then, they had to get through the Big 12 Champion Oklahoma Sooners to pull it off. I think we all need to start showing more love to the mid-majors out there. It doesn’t matter if you do or not. I will. Coach Peterson, you rock. Keep up the good work, and I hope to see you in the BCS again next year.

Wow… did I really just write all of that trying to convince you that Boise State, of all teams, should be number one? That’s a stretch, even for me. Still, Boise State deserves plenty of praise, especially after showing us one hell of a game. And really, isn’t that what football is all about? We’ve already seen some great NFL games this past week with Chicago winning in overtime (DAA Bears!) and the Patriots with a comeback win over the Chargers.

I’m looking forward to the Super Bowl. Will Peyton Manning and the Indianapolis Colts actually win a conference championship and maybe even (God forbid) a National Championship? Will the Patriots continue their dominance over the AFC and deny the Colts in the playoffs once again? Will the Saints continue their miraculous season and come marching home with a championship? Or will the Bears go all the way and do their own Super Bowl Shuffle? I’m just so excited I can’t wait. Boy is it good to be a sports nut.

Street Fighter 2: College Football Edition

So Monday night I’m clicking around ESPN.com looking up all the latest sports news, including the Bears extremely narrow win over the Cardinals, and I come across something that is somewhat less than pleasant. I was on ESPN’s college football’s homepage, and of course, the major story was still the University of Miami and Florida International University brawl. That was old news by Monday. What really got to me was the “ESPN Headlines” on the right hand side of the page. Here are the Headlines that I found most intriguing:

• Two players at I-AA Albany, NY charged with rape
• Sooners top tackler arrested on two charges
• No. Colorado fullback arrested, faces assault charges
• Syracuse QB apologizes for obscene gesture
• Thomas fired for comments during UM/FIU brawl

Four of those headlines are completely unrelated to the UM/FIU brawl, and three of them illustrate how college football players continue to commit crimes everyday. Have we become desensitized to the violence and indiscretions? Is it perfectly acceptable for college athletes to engage in unsportsmanlike behavior, commit felonies and abuse others both on and off the field? If I ask any coaches or program directors in the league, I’ll likely hear them answer in the negative. But actions speak louder than words.

I’m sure you all know what happened this past Saturday between Miami and Florida International. If not, there are plenty of places online where you can download the video of it. Feel free to go look, I’ve got plenty of time. Larry Coker still has a job in Miami. The University of Miami’s president, Donna Shalala and the executive committee of its board of trustees decided that firing Coker would be a bad idea. Well, it’s not like the brawl with FIU was the coach’s fault. Just like the fight with LSU at the Peach Bowl less than a year ago wasn’t his fault. Nor is it his fault that he recruits known criminals to play for UM (think Willie Williams who had 11 arrests before attending Miami). Do you notice a pattern developing here?

Oh, and you have to love the ACC. The Atlantic Coast Conference initially gave a one game suspension to everyone involved in Saturday’s melee. This sort of punishment will show those kids that violence is a bad thing, and they should never do that again. Actually, a one game suspension was more of a wag of the finger than an actually punishment. The message sent is more like, “Please don’t do that anymore, fighting is bad. So please, no more fighting… Pretty please no more fighting?” Aren’t you glad the University of Miami was recently moved into the ACC? I was just thinking that there wasn’t enough violence in football before Miami joined the conference.

Luckily, ACC commissioner John Swofford came back Monday night and dished out indefinite suspensions to the players who were most involved in the conflict. Good for him. Will that keep fights like the one on Saturday from happening again? The short answer: no. Violence on and off the field will continue to increase in football unless drastic measures are taken. Case in point: A month ago, the backup punter at Northern Colorado stabbed his teammate who was the starter. Why? No really, WHY? The guy was competing to be the top punter on the team. Punters aren’t even real football players, no one cares about them, why would you stab someone for a starting position as a kicker?

Why do things like this keep happening in college football? Sportsmanship and character have always been very important in the league. They’re so important that they rank eight and nine in relative importance. Winning, of course, is the most important, and everything else takes a back seat. People have been demanding for quite a while that Miami Coach Larry Coker needs to be fired. Just check out Cokermustgo.com. Of course, they’re not quite as mad at Coker’s questionable grip on his program; they’re upset that UM has lost two games already this season. For some reason, losing two games in one season is unforgivable in Miami. In stark contrast, take a look at Firebunting.com. The Carolina alumni are upset because Coach John Bunting boasts a 25-41 overall record at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. Now even though that record is truly abysmal, at least Bunting punters aren’t stabbing each other.

Larry Coker still has a job because he’s still winning games. Granted, not as many as he used to, but a 4-2 record is a winning record and Miami will likely make another bowl appearance in late December. John Bunting still has a job only because UNC Athletic Director Dick Baddour supports him entirely. Without Baddour’s support, Bunting is likely gone quicker than Brittney Spears after marrying a back-up dancer. Let’s just take a minute to figure out why colleges tend to overlook these on field incidents when their coaches are winning.

The answer: it’s all about money. Yes, colleges and universities are money grubbing whores just like the rest of us. And college football is a huge cash generator. Television networks pay inordinate amounts of money to conferences and collegiate institutions for the right to show their teams on TV. And the best part is, since college athletes are by definition amateurs, the schools don’t have to pay their players any money, unlike the professional leagues. So in essence, colleges have the ability to generate higher profit margins on their sports than do NFL or NBA franchises. Now isn’t that ironic?

As long as coaches continue to win and generate more income for the schools, college presidents and athletic directors will continue to downplay the importance of sportsmanship and player conduct. It will continue to be permissible for universities to recruit known felons as long as they’re really good at playing ball. The needless violence will continue unless something changes. I, personally, think the NCAA needs to step up and take a more active role. And they’re beginning to do just that.

Unfortunately, I don’t think the NCAA is doing enough. The governing body for the vast majority of collegiate sports needs to show colleges and universities that there are consequences for these unacceptable behaviors. And the consequences need to be more severe than a wag of the finger. The league should hit the schools where it hurts the most, the pocket book. If the NCAA imposed heavy fines on schools with repeated offenses, such as Miami, the universities would see a tangible downside to poor character and sportsmanship in their athletics. They would be much quicker and much more adamant about keeping a clean house. As I said before, actions speak louder than words.

But I doubt that will happen any time soon. Things will continue the way they are because the consequences haven’t become dire enough to keep the kids on these teams from their perpetrations. You know that one game suspension most players on Miami received? Well, they’re going to miss their next game against Duke. Oh yeah, that’s harsh, suspend everyone for the one game they won’t be needed anyway (no offense to Duke, but your football team would have trouble beating a junior high girls team). The Atlantic Coast Conference, a tradition of excellence, then, now and always… one on-field brawl at a time.

Lions and Vikings and Bears, Oh My!

I’m going to go ahead and apologize to Matt Leinart in advance for the beating he’s going to get on Monday night. I honestly do feel sorry for the poor guy. He played a good game last week, but ultimately lost. He’s probably hoping to pull off a nice win in his second start to give himself and the team some momentum. Unfortunately, he’s facing the Chicago Bears (pronounced: DA Bears). Yeah, it’s going to suck to be Matt Leinart on Monday night.

And why is this? Well, the Bears are arguably the best team in the NFL right now. They are 5-0 and the only other undefeated team is the Indianapolis Colts who scored a grand total of 135 points in five games. The Bears, on the other hand, have scored a total of 156 points this season. I know that’s not a huge difference, but when the hell does Chicago outscore Indianapolis’s offensive machine (named Peyton Manning)? No seriously, when did Chicago get an offense?

When I was growing up, Chicago was normally a decent team. The Bears are known for their physically tough and gritty defense, but they’ve never been big on scoring points. But now they’re playing the best football in the league on both sides of the field. It’s simply amazing. And what’s up with that Rex Grossman guy? I know he was pretty decent back in Gainesville, but how does he average over 200 yards a game (with the fourth best passer rating in the league) with Chicago? No really, how is that possible? Back in 2001, I think that Chicago only completed five passes all season long. And those were all against Detroit.

Why am I so giddy over Chicago’s sudden eliteness in the NFL? Well, I’ve been a Chicago fan all my life, but unfortunately, I haven’t had much of a chance to cheer for them. For a long while, they haven’t been very good, and it’s not always kosher to wear the jersey of a team that only won three games in an entire season. But now, now the Bears the best team in the league. They utterly demolished last years NFC champs, the Seattle Seahawks two weeks ago. Right now, the Bears are 5-0, which is a feat that hasn’t been accomplished in Chicago since 1986. So I hope you’ll excuse my sudden enthusiasm since I was only three years old the last time the Bears started a season off this well.

Chicago’s normally staunch defense has gotten so dominantly potent that a recent accord has been added to the Geneva Convention that clearly states that it is “Cruel and Unusual to exercise the Bear’s Defense in an Act of War.” I don’t blame then. I mean, I’m pretty sure I saw Brian Urlacher rip a man’s torso in half using nothing than his right shoulder blade in the middle of a game. He’s just that good. The defense has only allowed 36 points this season (that’s 7.2 points per game for you math whizzes out there). Seven points a game is equivalent to building a ten foot tall brick wall on your own 20 yard line to keep the other team out. Although something tells me this Chicago defense is far more effective than any mere wall.

Unfortunately, I live in North Carolina where I can only see mostly east coast games. There’s only been one televised Chicago game in my region so far this year. Now don’t get me wrong, I do enjoy watching the Carolina Panthers. Well, except when they try to lateral the ball on a punt return and no one is there resulting in a turnover to Minnesota. That was just stupid. But other than that, I like the Panthers. The thing is, I don’t really have a hometown. I was born in Peoria, Illinois, but I’ve never lived anywhere for more than four years. Growing up in a military family will do that to you.

But since I was born in Illinois, I’ve always favored the Chicago teams. In fact, my 13 year old Chicago Blackhawks jersey is still one of my most cherished possessions. This is true even though the Blackhawks haven’t been worth watching for almost all of those 13 years. It will be a while before the Blackhawks get their skates back under them, but that’s not important right now. What’s important is that the Bears are kicking some NFL booty, and no one is going to stop them.

If you don’t believe me, tune in Monday night. I’m pretty positive that the Arizona Cardinals don’t have what it takes to beat the Bears, even with Mr. Matt, I won a Heisman Trophy, Leinart. Incidentally, Microsoft Word does not seem recognize “Heisman” as a legitimate word. Apparently computer programmers don’t watch college football. Way to go Microsoft. Getting back to Monday night, I’m ridiculously happy that I get to see another Chicago Bears football game. I’m sure it will be as ludicrously one sided as the first when Chicago beat a very potent Seahawks team by over 30 points.

I’m sorry to all you Arizona fans out there, but I don’t think that praying to God will help your team’s chances at all. I have it on good authority that Mike Ditka (who won a Super Bowl as a tight end for the Bears and another as their head coach) once beat God in a football game by 42-7. After the game, Ditka barreled over God in a display of pure aggression. God laughed it off and later forgave the Hall of Famer. God is just such a good sport like that.

Well I hope I haven’t bored you too much with all my statistics and overindulgence of one of the greatest sports teams ever. I assure you that next week I will get back to the woman hating and chauvinism that make my writing what it is. And yes, the Bears are one of the greatest sports franchises ever. I mean, Fred Savage wore a Chicago Bears jersey in the movie The Princess Bride. And I think we can all agree that The Princess Bride was an awesome movie.

So all motion picture and Saturday Night Live references aside, I’m going to enjoy sitting down with an ice cold beer and a large meat-lovers pizza to watch the game on Monday. As I said before, I feel sorry for Matt Leinart. He’s going to throw two interceptions and get sacked three times before Monday night’s game is over. Arizona’s offensive line won’t be able to hold up against Chicago’s defense, and this is before Chicago even attempts to send in an extra man on the blitz. They’re just that good. Yeah, it’s going to suck to be Matt Leinart on Monday.

Oh, and bonus points to those of you who figured out that the title for this article was a play on words using three of the four teams in the NFC North division. The Detroit Lions, Minnesota Vikings, and Chicago Bears are represented there. My apologies to Brett Favre and the Green Bay Packers for not making it into the title.

Game Day Fun

It’s almost fall, and you know what that means: the weather is cooling off, there’s a nice easy breeze blowing through the now colorful foliage, the rush of summertime is gone and life seems to be slowing down, and of course, and most importantly, football! After a long summer season of nothing but baseball and the occasional spelling bee, it’s great to finally get a sport worth watching. Now don’t get me wrong, the Nathan’s hot dog eating contest is a thrill a minute, watching those tiny Japanese guys out eating our oversized American competitors, but it’s just not the same as football. What’s up with that though? We are a nation that thrives on fast food, deep fried Twinkies, and anything that is high in cholesterol, but we can’t win a hot dog eating contest. I think we got screwed on that deal.

Back to the subject at hand: football. I don’t know about you, but I am a huge fan of college football. The NFL is ok, but I usually don’t pay much attention until the playoffs. Well, except for Chicago, I always cheer for the Bears (pronounced: “DA Bears”). When it comes right down to it though, I think college teams play with more heart and passion for the game than do the professionals who seem mostly interested in signing bonuses. I also like the college set-up better. You don’t have to wait until Christmas for the playoffs to begin, in college they begin in September. Lose one game and you’re out of the national championship. Last year the Ohio State vs. Texas game in the second week of the season was probably one of the biggest (if not the biggest) in determining who was going to the National Championship game. Then, Texas beat Ohio State and they went on to win the National Championship. This year the Buckeyes won. Will they be able to pull off a run to the final? We’ll have to wait and see.

Of course, my favorite college team is the University of North Carolina Tar Heels. Unfortunately, rooting for the Tar Heels isn’t the easiest thing to do. The football program isn’t quite on par with its rich basketball tradition. And you know what, that’s ok. You can’t really expect perfection in both programs. But it is nice to watch the football team pull off an upset every once in a while. The first Carolina sporting event I went to was the 2001 football game against Florida State where the Tar Heels thoroughly embarrassed the Seminoles, 41-9. Of course, that doesn’t happen very often, especially now that UNC has to play both Virginia Tech and Miami (of Florida) every year.

For those of you not in the know, last Saturday was the UNC game versus Virginia Tech. I had the distinct pleasure of attending. Ok, maybe it was a pleasure for most of the first quarter, but that’s about it. We don’t need to go into the details about the game, because that would just make me cry again. And you don’t want to make me cry, do you? Let’s just say the Carolina offense seems to take the field with only one goal in mind: to throw an interception. I mean really, that’s how it appeared to me.

Like I said, there’s no need to talk about the game, but I do want to talk about being at the game. College football is an experience like no other. In some collegiate stadiums the fans get so loud when their team is on defense, that the opposing quarterback cannot call an audible on the field because his teammates cannot hear him above the roar (for the record, its doesn’t get quite that loud in Kenan stadium). When was the last time that ever happened at a professional game? So I’ll give you a quick run down of my college football experience last weekend.

First off, since it was a 12pm game, I had to get up at 10am (waking up before noon is, as a generally rule, something I just don’t do). I drove into Chapel Hill early enough to miss most of the nasty traffic and find a decent parking place. Of course, being a college town, parking is a pain in the butt, and there’s people walking all over the place, so it’s far too easy and far too tempting to run over the pedestrians wearing Virginia Tech t-shirts. After getting the car parked, I met my friend on campus and hung out before game time to listen to the band. This is mainly because his girlfriend is in the band. And before you jump to any conclusions there are some pretty attractive band geeks, believe it or not. It is Carolina, and I have it on good authority that Carolina girls are the best in the world.

I have to admit, the band is pretty good. They did a rendition of Nirvana’s Smells Like Teen Spirit that was reasonably true to the song. Well, except for the fact that they didn’t have any electric guitars. I felt a little odd about that, I know the band is trying to be hip, but grunge music without the guitars? That’s like eating strawberry shortcake without the strawberries. I mean, yeah the shortcake tastes good on its own, but shortcake has pretty much no point unless there’s strawberries involved in some way.

After the band finished its pre-game rituals, they took off from the quad and marched to the stadium. We followed behind in the mass of people and once again I had to suppress the urge to enact some very random acts of violence on people wearing Virginia Tech shirts. Although I have to admit, the Virginia Tech fans were very well behaved for the most part. Much better behaved than NC State fans have ever been. But I can’t blame the Wolfpack fans, I mean, if I had to walk through a bunch of tractors and cows on my way to class everyday, I’d be pretty pissed off too. What I haven’t been able to figure out though, is how all those cows can graze on NC State’s campus when the campus is completely paved over in bricks. I guess it’s just one of those mysteries of life.

Unfortunately, most of the seats in Kenan Stadium don’t have any shade and the sun can easily overheat you and give you some really bad tan lines. Thankfully, I didn’t have to deal with that, our seats had shade. Looking out over the stadium, you can see a sea of Carolina blue, as all the students, parents, alumni, and even faculty were wearing their school colors. Unfortunately there was a rather large consortium of Virginia Tech fans in attendance who were sitting around our section. By the way, can anyone tell me what a Hokie is? I’ve yet to discover this for myself.

We can just skip the events of the game, and I think you all know why. At least the Carolina dancers were in attendance, which was one upside of the day. Now some of you may be wondering why a school would need a dance squad when we already have a cheerleading squad. Well, let’s see… they're college coeds in tight pants and halter tops. Enough said. Unlike most of the other people in attendance, we stayed for the entire length of the game, even though the game was over probably before the fourth quarter even started. I have always stayed to the end of every game just so I can sing the alma mater. It’s called school pride. Or at least I think that's what it's called. I’m not entirely sure, I skipped most of my orientation when they went over all that stuff. The orientation leaders were all so upbeat and “super happy.” It was annoying.

So what have we learned today? Football is better than baseball, hands down. Yes, there are attractive girls in the band. You just don’t notice them because you’re too busy staring at the dance team and the cheerleaders. Strawberry shortcake makes a horrible metaphor for grunge music. It doesn’t matter if you win or lose, as long as you have more points than the other team. And last of all, Carolina may have lost to Virginia Tech this weekend, but at least they didn’t lose to Akron. I mean, NC State losing to Akron, now that’s just sad.

Hell's Broke Loose and the Devil Deals it Hard

I blame my current condition on my friend’s bunny rabbit. See, last week I was over at his place and at the time, I was perfectly healthy. His wife however, was not. They both believe she got sick from their pet bunny, who had to go to the vet the preceding week. So, when I ended up getting sick, I drew up a little diagram to see if I had the origins of this virus correct. I’ll share it with you here:

Bunny --> My Friend --> His Wife --> Me

Yep, as you can see, with this evidence, it is without a doubt, that damned bunny’s fault that I am currently sick. So what am I going to do now? Nothing, that’s what. I’m going to lie in my bed, play my Nintendo DS, and blow my nose about 600 times every minute, just waiting and praying for the sickness to pass.

You’re probably wondering why I’m not trying to enact my revenge on the bunny for so obviously infecting me with this virus. Hey, come on, he’s a bunny . That’s just… that’s just mean. Why would you want to hurt a poor defenseless rabbit? There is absolutely no reason for me to do so. Well, next time I see the critter, I’ll probably poke it in its side a few times, maybe even give it a drop kick or two. But really, that’s pretty standard fair. Going anything beyond that is just not cool.

There is some sort of bug going around. Lots of people are getting sick, which is odd for the summertime, usually this doesn’t happen until winter. I think I heard someone say it was the work of the devil. You know, evil spirits and all that. Well, I can tell you with authority that it certainly isn’t the work of the devil. I actually talked to him a few days ago.

I assure you, I had a perfectly good reason for wanting to talk to the devil. As you may or may not know, the Stanley Cup Finals went to a game seven, which was this past Monday night. Over the weekend, I was desperately trying to find a ticket, without paying a crap-ton of cash (1 crap-ton = 100 regular tons), seeing as how I live about 20 minutes away from Raleigh where game seven was to be played (Carolina Hurricanes vs. Edmonton Oilers).

So I did what any other self-respecting man would do in my situation. I called up Satan and offered to sell my soul for some tickets. But I wanted some damn good tickets. I wanted two seats, next to the ice on the blue line. I figured, my soul may be immortal, but how often is Carolina going to win a Stanley Cup? They used to be known as the Hartford Whalers, after all (don’t worry if you’ve never heard of them before, the vast majority of humanity hasn’t, and that’s pretty much the point).

So, Satan took a look at what I wanted, and then came back with a counter offer. He agreed to give me two tickets for my soul. Unfortunately, these tickets were for ice-dancing! And the seats weren’t what I asked for either. I think he had me watching from a seat that was on top of the jumbotron. I have no idea how he got a seat put on top of the jumbotron, but hey, he’s Satan, that’s kind of his thing.

Obviously, I refused that offer. My immortal and everlasting soul may not be worth much, but it has definitely got to be worth more than some lousy seats for watching ice dancing. And the whole point was to watch the Carolina Hurricanes win Lord Stanley’s Cup. So, we were back to square one. Satan, being the busy fallen angel that he is, had to leave. I think he had a previous engagement with some of those Hollywood types. But he did promise to keep in touch with me about a possible arrangement.

Of course, I didn’t take the Prince of Darkness at his word. I mean, when a girl tells me she’ll call, she never does, so why should Lucifer be any better? But, as it turns out, he kept true to his word. Well, technically he did. On Sunday afternoon I got an email from one satan01@7thlayerofhell.com. Obviously, I figured it was one of those spammers trying to sell me Viagra or something. I’m 23 years old, jeeze. Call me back in about 20-30 years then we’ll talk. But as it turned out, it was an email from my business partner to be, Satan.

I opened up the email and was actually quite surprised. I didn’t expect to get a fair deal out of the guy, but he really was getting low and dirty. The email wanted me to send him my full name, Social Security Number, date of birth, mother’s maiden name, at least 2 credit card numbers (with expiration dates), and a complete set of dental records and then he might be able to do something for me. Like I said, low and dirty. He can’t even promise I’ll get what I want, only to see that it later somehow has extremely adverse effects on me and everyone I love forcing me to later lament my fated decision.

In the olden days, Satan used to corrupt mankind, steal our souls, and wreak havoc and destruction. Now, he’s just into identity theft. I think the Dark Prince has gotten very lazy. But then again, I can’t help but think he’s newest scheme is much more evil than his previous endeavors. Evil has many faces and many forms, you have to be careful.

Needless to say, I didn’t fill out Lucifer’s little questionnaire. I mean, if he’s not going to give me some hockey tickets in exchange for my soul, then I’m taking my business elsewhere. Unfortunately, Satan is the only guy around who trades favors for people’s souls. And he’s not even doing a whole lot of that lately. It seems ever since that whole Enron thing, people have just been giving their souls away for free. The Dark Prince throws a couple of stock options in the air, and he gets another dozen or so souls. So I think you can see why he wasn’t too anxious to give up some valuable tickets.

So I was here, at my own apartment, watching the hockey game on my little TV screen, sitting next to two trash bags full of used Kleenex. Being sick sucks. Not being able to go to the hockey game sucks worse. But watching the Carolina Hurricanes bring home the Stanley Cup for the first time in franchise history was pretty cool. Maybe next time they win the cup I’ll be there, front and center watching it all. Hey, it only took them 27 years to get their first Cup, it can’t be that much longer for the second.

Lord Stanley Rocks My World

God I love hockey! This year, the Carolina Hurricanes are in the Stanley Cup Finals! I don’t know how I lived without hockey last year. The league taking a year off last year did not sit well with me. But now hockey is back, and it’s here to stay. Just so you know how much I love hockey, consider the fact that I would be willing to pass up sex with a supermodel just for a ticket to the Stanley Cup Finals. Wait a minute... did I really just say that?

For those of you who don’t follow hockey much, let me give you a brief synopsis of what happened and why there was a one year lockout in the NHL. First, the players were getting paid way too much, and that’s the players and the owners’ faults. If you look at the salaries in the NHL, it won’t seem that out of place. But you have to remember, hockey doesn’t pull in as much money as the big three (NBA, NFL, and MLB), so there’s less money to go around for these big time contracts.

To make it simple: players wanted more money, but the owners wanted to pay them less. They whined and complained like six year olds for a whole year about it. No one seemed to care that at the rate the players were getting paid, the owners wouldn’t be able to afford to fly them across country for a game. And that is not good. In fact, it’s rather bad. If Carolina cannot afford to fly to Edmonton to play, then I don’t have anything to watch on TV. And that, my friend, is a travesty. And that’s why we have a salary cap today in the NHL.

Now let’s figure out why, after a whole year of vehemently opposing a salary cap, the players union agreed to it. Well, it has to do with making money. See, professional athletes tend to buy expensive cars, live in really big houses, and typically spend a lot of money. This is because they have a lot of money to spend. Now suddenly, they don’t play for a year, and they don’t have any more money. The fancy cars are gone and it’s hard to pay the mortgage bill on the palatial estate. I mean, wouldn’t you be willing to take a small cut in pay if you were still making over a million dollars a year?

Now we have a lot of rule changes in the “new” NHL. Once again, I don’t want you non-hockey fans to get bogged down here, so I will simplify. The best change they made was eliminating the two line pass rule. Simply put, the rule stated: “You may not pass the puck up the ice to another player. You may pass it sideways, or backwards. But under no circumstances are you allowed to pass the puck forwards to another player on your team.” Ok, so maybe that isn’t a direct quote, but it’s close enough. The two line pass rule sucked.

The worst rule change, however, is the trapezoid rule. Basically, there’s this trapezoid shape behind the net that the goalie is allowed to play the puck in, but he is very limited on where he can play the puck outside that area. Now, there’s a very good reason to have this rule in there, the goalie is so protected in hockey that if you were to give him the middle finger in the middle of the game, the ref would throw you into the penalty box for two minutes. Luckily, it’s near impossible to “flip the bird” while wearing hockey gloves. Trust me, I’ve tried. Now, my problem with this new rule is that it’s a trapezoid. I mean, why would you want to put a trapezoid on any playing surface? It just doesn’t make sense. Even saying the word out loud makes me feel funny. I guess if they really wanted to put a trapezoid in cricket they could, because really, who cares about cricket?

The rule changes have had their desired effect this year. Scoring has gone up as the pace of the game has quickened. One interesting side effect in the faster skating NHL has been the checking. Think about it, the faster someone is skating, the harder they fall when they get hit. So now the open ice hits are getting more frequent, and getting much more devastating. And all I have to say about this is: Hell yeah! Watching someone getting forced into a back flip on skates and then falling to the ice in a crumpled lump of pain and sorrow is one of the most exciting things to watch, ever.

Although the league coming back this year has seen some positive results with the higher scores, more exciting hits, and Carolina making it to the finals, there have been some drawbacks. ESPN and network television has almost completely shunned the NHL. Even during the playoffs I think only one game (that I know of) was on network TV. The majority of games have been on the Outdoor Life Network (OLN) with some on Fox Sports Net as well.

Honestly, I don’t have a problem with OLN. I get the channel with my current cable package and their commentators are pretty decent, so I’m pretty happy. But the commercials that are on during the breaks are a little bit… (what’s the word I’m looking for?) …out of the ordinary for sports games. You have your usual mass merchandising commercials with annoying cell phone personas and whatnot on there. But then there are the ads for all terrain vehicles, tractor supplies, hunting gear, and who knows what else. Well, it is the network for outdoor life.

But it has got me thinking. I don’t actually own a hunting gun. I have absolutely no need for one since I don’t go hunting. But what if I’m really hungry and the grocery store is closed? Wouldn’t I need a hunting rifle to go bag some nearby game? Although I’m pretty sure there’s nothing more than squirrels and the occasional opossum in my neighborhood, but that’s enough meat for one meal. At least I could make a rodent soup, right? Well, I think there might be some deer nearby... See this is why you shouldn’t show me pictures of high powered weaponry while I’m drinking and very excited. It just will end up badly.

Well, besides the small chance of me discharging a high powered rifle in a heavy populated area, I think OLN is doing a pretty good job. The NHL is doing a good job too. If you aren’t big on watching professional hockey, now would be a good time to check it out. The game tonight (Wednesday) is on at 8pm eastern time. If it’s even half as exciting as the first game, it’ll be well worth the watch. And we’ll get to see if Edmonton’s back-up goalie can make up for his big time screwball mistake which completely lost the game for his team in game one. Wow, sucks to be him.

Oh, Oh… Pick me! Pick me!

This past weekend marked the pinnacle of sporting events for the year. It was March Madness, Super Bowl Sunday, and the World Series all rolled into one. No, it wasn’t the start of the Stanley Cup playoffs. I’m talking about the NFL draft. Two days of nonstop action! Thankfully, ESPN was kind enough to display the draft without pause, even during commercial breaks.

Now I know what you’re thinking: How can one draft pick every 15 minutes be exciting? It just is. The waiting, the suspense, the agony… will Heismen winner Reggie Bush be the first pick? Will Vince Young get picked over Matt Leinhart? So many questions and you have to wait so darn long to find out. And those are the easy ones. What we really want to know is who is who will the Carolina Panthers select in the fifth round as the 155th overall pick? With all the top names gone and many of the smaller ones as well, who is left for them to pick up? What positions do the Panthers need to fill? The answer, of course, is Jeff King, a tight end from Virginia Tech. But you already knew that, didn’t you?

The action is cutthroat as teams look to out maneuver each other with their selections and their last minute trades. This is the time for the teams’ general managers and presidents to shine. All year long the players and coaches get the spotlight, but on this very special weekend, it’s the management that takes the field. And what do they get for their efforts? Practically nothing. Can you even name the GM for your favorite football team? Yeah, I didn’t think so.

I think the main problem with the draft is that there is no clear winner. Sure Huston got to pick first, but does that mean they won? We could let the industry analysts vote to decide who had the best draft picks and made the best trades. But since most analysts are former players and coaches, I think that would be entirely too biased. We could let viewers at home vote online for whom they think had the best draft. But I don’t trust the average viewer to have ingested all seven rounds thoroughly enough to make a sound decision. Instead, I have devised a simple way to choose a winner that is both unbiased and fair.

You take the average height of the players drafted for each team, and divide that by the average age. Then you multiply that number by pi (about 3.14). Add to that the number of current team members selected for the most recent Pro Bowl, and then multiply that by the absolute value of the difference between the age of the team’s head coach and its general manager. The team with the highest score wins. The secret is in the formula’s simplicity. I don’t think I could have made it any easier to keep track of. But just in case, I’ll write out the shorthand of the formula for you here:

[((AvHei/AvAge)*3.14)+ProB]*CoaAge-GMAge = team score

See, simplicity itself. But since I don’t happen to have a calculator nearby at the moment, I’m going to designate the winner of the 2006 NFL Draft to be Denver. Because, why the heck not? They deserve it just as much as anyone. So I’d personally like to congratulate the management team of the Denver Broncos for winning the first ever NFL Draft Champions Cup. Way to go team!

I’d also like to announce that the NFL Draft Champions Cup is not an actual cup. Nor is it any other sort of tangible object. The winning of the NFL Draft Champions Cup does not confer any special privileges or rights, monetary or otherwise, to the victor. You can get a special Certificate of Achievement for a reward. By request, I will email a copy of the Certificate to the winner of the NFL Draft Champions Cup, but the team’s management will be responsible for going to Kinko’s and paying to get the fancy print job done. I’m not running a charity here.

But I am hoping that this new award will pave the way for management to get new, lucrative endorsement deals. As I said before, the team management is often the forgotten, but extremely crucial, part of the professional sports team. In this day in age professional athletes make multimillion dollar deals with apparel companies. Coaches have even begun to make their way into commercials and brand endorsement. It’s certainly true even in college athletics where players are banned from endorsements, but coaches are not. This is evidenced in Duke Basketball coach Mike Krzyzewski (pronounced Sha-shefskey)… (I know I know, apparently the K makes a “sh” sound, crazy) participating in commercials during March Madness while watching his team get knocked out early in the tournament.

The time has finally come for the GM’s of pro sports to get their endorsements. Instead of signing with Reebok or Nike, I think management should sign with classy outfitters like Armani, Ralph Lauren and Sean John. Since management is always in the suits, they should endorse the people who make the suits. I for one would jump at the chance of owning a Marty Hurney sports coat (Carolina Panthers’ GM). I’m sure this new wave of endorsements would trigger a nationwide surge in demand for business suits. And I back this claim up with absolutely no relevant data whatsoever.

The bottom line: the NFL Draft rocks! And you should watch every second of it and devour each and every draft pick as if your life depended on it. Either that or you could actually get a life. It’s up to you.